Kate.0

I want to cover some ground tonight since I only blog once a week now, which is because I've been opting to read in bed in the evenings so I can have one arm free for Joe to gently scratch/rub. (Don't be fooled; he's still a douche man.) With that, I'm going to stream-of-consciousness try to list all the shit I was trying to remember to write about: Dex, my back, Joe, skipping a period in July. Yeah, something like that.

Okay, to start let me talk to you all about my back. I have had sciatica problems in the past, but whatever low back pain I am currently experiencing tops that sciatica bitch by leaps and bounds. Today was the worst so far and involved me crying on the phone to my Army clinic who can't schedule me to see my doctor for a month and really could not give me any alternative options other than to see a different physician at the clinic whose first available appointment is still in ten days. Let's be clear: it hurts to sit, stand, lay down, cough, laugh, sneeze. Standing up is best, but even then I feel pain roll through my back. When I'm laying down, I have to roll on to my side, which hurts so bad I almost get teary, and either lower myself off what I'm laying (or if I'm on the floor, get on all fours) and push myself up from there. I haven't done any one thing that was like BAM I fucked up my back. Instead, it's been sore for quite a while, and in the last week, it's gotten much worse. The last few days have really been awful, and as I already mentioned, today takes the cake (so far), despite stretches and deep breathing and ibuprofen and even a Flector patch that was my grandpa's. I have an appt with a chiropractor at 9AM tomorrow, so I'm hoping for magic hands. Most of the chiropractors around here do military payment programs, so I'll pay $50 for my first visit and then $25 thereafter. For diagnostic testing they'll send me to a diagnostic center that accepts tricare so my xrays, etc (should) be free. Booya. Tricare apparently doesn't pay out to chiropractors...but I know there are specialty clinics on post...and if I had a referral from my post doc, who knows what I could get. But whatever. I have my appointment.

In other medical news, Dexter has had all sorts of consultations for him, as his medical treatment far exceeds mine. Thank you, Army. Long story short, it looks like he's developing arthritis at a young age, for which he may start treatment sooner than later - shots...that I have to administer. Uggghhh. The good news is that it doesn't look like he'll need surgery right now for that possible bone chip because the joint fluid they tested today on his shoulder was in good shape. We got that information when we went to pick him up. When we initially dropped him off, the doctor was explaining the arthritis situation and how Dexter would have to permanently limit his play - no wild jumping, running, "chasing frisbees." Dude, he's a dog, and in my overly emotional head at the time I felt that Dexter's quality of life was going to suffer - ya know, dogs are dogs. What is there if he can run and jump and play? Sooo, I burst into tears at my vet's office. And I couldn't stop. Joe was there, but still, these dogs are the only kids I have right now. They are always home with me, and I love them. By the time I did calm down, Dex who is always too excited to even stand still at the vet was in fact resting against my legs with his head on my knee looking up at me. Sweet boy. Pet-induced neurosis is something else. I know he'll still have a good life, and he may be just a dog, but I want him to be happy.

As I've written the last few paragraphs, my issues with Joe have calmed. It's just the case of me feeling like he doesn't think enough, even though he feels like he's been going out of his way for me. See, earlier, the kitchen was a wreck and the place needed vacuumed, and I can't get out of bed without trouble much less push a damn vacuum. So I started flipping out a little asking him what his plan was for everything. Maybe I overreacted, but I felt like he should have been able to figure out that some of those things needed done and that I wasn't able to do them. I mean, we live in the damn south. Roaches here are the size of cigars. You don't want to tempt that kind of shit. The house needs to stay CLEAN. And a little more cuddling (well, from a distance - foot rubs) would have been good today too. I felt bad and was emotional. He offered me food and took me out for ice cream (as well as to buy dog food and a few groceries) when he was apparently sick to his stomach. What a guy. After we left the vet's office earlier in the day when I'd cried, the first thing he said to me outside was "You're driving." To which I told him, "We'll die because I can't move." Idiot.

Last, I've been meaning to write about this for a while: my paranoia that I'm going to end up as one of those chicks on "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant." I skipped my period in July at the height of my stress over Joe in Ranger School. I'm on the pill and everything, and the only other time I've skipped one was in college during finals one semester. But then I did get it earlier this month. However, chicks on that show say they still got theirs too, even though it wasn't their actual cycle. Also, I had gone through a time when I came home every day after work and passed out. Now I'm putting on some weight on top of it. And I have horrible back pain, knowing I have a uterus that tips backward toward my spine (which also allegedly makes showing less noticeable at first). So have I taken prego tests? Yes, like 3-4 with morning urine 2/4 times. All negative. Yet, I read an online forum full of people saying they had all negative tests and then had to go see their doctor for a blood test. (Obviously, seeing a doctor for me is about as rare as Joe turning on a vacuum.) Bottom line, I just want to definitely know if I'm pregnant or not so I can properly care for my fetus and not turn it into a mongoloid baby. More neuroses, I know. Shit.