March 19th, 2010

I’ve recently finished up a round of medical appointments, having neglected these things since having LB.  I think that I was mostly burned out on medical attention after he was born, having been through SO much testing and surveillance for so very long.  But I finally decided I should follow through, and as well, there was the friendly STD allegation of recent history.

Mammogram.  Check.  Results?  Normal.  There’s nothing like embracing a cold mass of metal machinery and getting your boobs smashed between two even colder glass plates.

Diabetes status.  Check.  HbA1C results?  6.1.  Diabetes risk cutoff?  6.0.  So close.  Bah.  Now my doctor wants me to attend the diabetes information course at the hospital.  Which is the same course I was mandated when I had gestational diabetes with LB.  Which is the same course I was mandated when I had gestational diabetes with BB.  I’m pretty sure there will be nothing new for me to learn.  I’ll probably get a new glucometer out of it, though.  Hopefully it will be the same model that insurance prefers, otherwise it will be a complete waste.

Ob/Gyn annual.  Check.  Results?  Normal.

Supplemental STD panel, blood work, and cultures.  Check.  Results?  Normal.  Clean.  As in, empty allegations.  Which speaks volumes to the accuser.  Psycho.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…  Even so, it’s good to know.  Skills is clean.  I’m clean.  And as for Gadget –I have no idea at this point of his fidelity.  He claims to have never cheated, but I’ve caught him in lies before, which pretty much negates any level of trust.  But I’m clean.  So that’s that.  Good. To. Know.

Ob/Gyn IUD status.  Check.  Results?  Normal.  Okay, so I’m having some issues.  Apparently it’s not uncommon to bleed, and bleed, and bleed, while the body is getting adjusted.  Nice.  It’s not bad, per se, but it’s getting old.  And as for the IUD causing my recent emotional meltdowns, my doctor was very skeptical.  He did, however, agree that it was most likely related to the increased ovarian function side effect of the metformin, which is taken for the diabetes.  He also agreed that it would be a good idea to map moods and symptoms for the next three months and make an evaluation after that.  So that’s that.  I have a plan.  And a fragile emotional state.

Speaking of clean slates.  I’ve been feeling melancholy, looking about this place that I call home.  I wish it were easy to just get a new place and walk away from this place.  Gadget is dragging the removal of crap on and on and on.  I don’t have a truck any more, so can’t really haul all his crap to the dump, and even if I could, it would mean that I’d have to deal with it, move it, lift it, sort it, and I just don’t want to even look at it, let alone touch it.  So I let him take his sweet time.  I’m on the verge of getting bitchy about it soon, though.  And once all the traces are gone, what then?  I think I will need to re-organize, redecorate, re-arrange, and maybe refurnish. Maybe all those things will help.  It’s not very practical to move, after all.

And as for Gadget playing nice?  Next weekend is supposed to be his weekend, but apparently he has plans, and he claims his plans are work-mandated, so he won’t be taking the kids.  Next weekend is my 45th birthday, and whatever plans may have been brewing in my little sphere of love must now be adjusted.  It’s hard not to think that he’s purposefully being difficult and uncooperative.

On a good note, this weekend is a fun family fest with my niece and nephew, my two boys, and Skills’ daughter, all here for a sleepover.  We will have pizza tonight, a taco bar tomorrow, possibly a cookie baking session, some Wii or other game time, and hopefully some fun outdoor activities, if the weather is nice.

Gadget might show up to retrieve a check that arrived for him.  Of course if there’s money involved, he makes himself available.  Hopefully he’ll haul away some more crap.  But he doesn’t get to take the kids –not when they’ve got their cousins and friends over.  He referred to Skills as my ‘boy toy’.  I wonder if he’ll even look him in the eye, if he shows up while Skills is here.  I wonder if it will be hard for him to see.  I wonder what assumptions he will make.  True, Skills is oh so easy on the eyes, so of course the ‘boy toy’ reference is to be expected.  Will there be comparisons?  Where Gadget is a big, hulking, morose clod hopper, Skills is an agile, deft, good-natured, gregarious and quick-witted ray of light.  Night and day.  Gadget will most likely skulk about in the garage and not even emerge to show his face.  Hopefully.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 19th, 2010 at 12:24 PM and is filed under divorce, health, me, ob-gyn. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.

3 Responses to “clean slate”

aunty evil Says:

Bah, who cares what that lump of lard thinks of Skills. It’s what YOU think of him that’s important. And he is never going to give him the tick of approval…exes just don’t do stuff like that.

Good thing about all your health checks, normal is good.

As for his crap, sell it on ebay and buy paint for your house with the income from that. Tell him he has a month to get it out or you will be removing it for him. You are not a storage facility!

Alby Mangroves Says:

If it were me, I’d go all headtrip on his ass; just make it out like you absolutely love the idea of having the kids ALL the time and maybe he’ll fight to have them more often. And drop a hint that your new man’s gonna start using Gadget’s stuff. He obviously doesn’t want it, right? Might as well put it to good use. You watch how fast he comes around to claim it. Love your work lady, keep it up! xxxxx As always, sending my best xxxx

Stomper Girl Says:

Love the advice from Aunty and Alby, do it, do it I say! Glad your health is mostly okay but I’d like to see your diabetes thing come down. *nag nag* I’m having to say the same thing to Fixit, he is doing his schooling at the moment and stress has made him comfort eat which has led to weight gain and therefore heartburn, snoring, bitten fingernails. Still at least he’s not smoking, hey?