I’m okay.  I thankfully remember nothing other than lying back and then waking up.  Drugs can be good.  Mot.rin in the morning and Vic.odin in the evening.  I can imagine this would be substantially more horrific without those, but thankfully I don’t have to find out.  Mike’s taken good care of me.  There’s hot coffee and a fresh coat of snow, still falling outside.  And, bonus!  I somehow still haven’t eaten all of the cookies Mom brought me…but I’ve eaten plenty.  I’m okay.


Because shitty isn’t shitty enough, or something

I would love nothing more right now than for this ordeal to be over with already, but it isn’t to be.  The hcg number is still going up slightly, according to this morning’s blood draw.  Fourteen thousand something last week, fifteen thousand something today.  So back for another ultrasound I go tomorrow morning.  I have no idea what will happen after that.  Maybe methotrexate, I guess, maybe Cytotec, maybe a D&C.  Fuck.  I don’t even know what to hope for at this point.  The past week already felt like the longest week of my life, waiting for the next blood draw and the results.  Obviously, this is not what I was hoping for.  I don’t know what to think or feel right now.  I think the only surety in this situation is that whatever comes next will be anything but fun.  There’d better be painkillers.

Update:  D&C scheduled for Friday morning.  There will be Vi.codin.