Monday, February 27, 2006

Genuine Muzak switch. Fantastic. Found this at the old hospital, due to be demolished soon. The oldest hospital in the country, actually (well, not this building, of course) but unfortunately on prime real estate right on the beach, so, sorry, RNH, it's the wrecker's ball for you.  Posted by Picasa

and another phone photo of the storm, just on the edge. Cool, eh! Posted by Picasa

I'm pretty proud of this photo that I took just with my phone. I went out for a long drive the other day, out past Dubbo (about an 8 hour round trip) and I drove right through this huge storm (panicking all the time that I would get hit and the Prius' electrics would get scrambled) and then out the other side. The sky was a wonderful slatey blue, and you can just see the hint of a rainbow above the trees. It's times like these that I wish I had a better camera... but even if I did I'd probl'y still just take photos with my phone... Posted by Picasa

Thursday, February 23, 2006

meg and peg together in front of the heater Posted by Picasa

and it wouldn't be complete without some photos of meg and peg, our two wonderfully quirky burmese cats! This is meg, looking up to see if she can eat my phone. Meg and Peg were RSPCA rejects: the long story is that there was a woman who bred burmese cats, and, according to the vet, she "died tragically" and her husband tried to keep running the cattery because he couldn't let it go: reminded him of his wife too much. But it all got too much for him and he couldn't look after the cats properly, and they just kept breeding ah-and breeding ah-hand breeding... (maybe no-one told him to put the girl cats in one room and the boy cats in another...). Anyways, in the end he turned himself in to the RSPCA and they were going to just take the 'best' cats and have the rest euthanased. The vet who had been a friend of the woman who had died couldn't just let them do that so she was helping re-home the cats who were to be otherwise put down. We had just lost Fudge, our excellent brown burmese boy, and were looking for another (pound) burmese to replace him (No-one will ever fully replace Fudge- a tru one in a million cat). The RSPCA gave us the number of the vet, and so we drove down to see the cats. Meg and Peg had just weaned their kittens, and were malnourished and in poor shape. Peg had some rotten teeth that had to be pulled as well (hence 'Peg'- "Toothy Peg"). I went in to see if these cats were suitable (I had actually come to get just one...) and there they were, huddled together, small, frightened, skinny... . I just didn't have the heart to split them up, hence we became the owners of Meg and her cousin Peg. Posted by Picasa

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

this is my recent favourite photo of myself although it is neither flattering nor a really great photo, but it was just after I bought my new kayak. And I was pregnant (the first baby I lost). Life was pretty sweet Posted by Picasa

I don't have any photos of me as a child on my computer, so does my favourtie photo of me as a 22 year- old count? The guy's face is blurred out to protect the innocent. I'm the one on the left. I made that dress myself- it was red/black shot dupion silk, and although dated, is still one of my favourite garments. I looked HOT in it- as one of my frinds said that night (he's not known for his tact or wordsmanship) "That dress shows off your best assets as a woman". And yes, he wasn't looking at my face at the time! I actually made the dress for my friend K as well; it was my 21st present to her. She also looked gorgeous, burgundy mink velvet, figure hugging: I think it was a Vera Wang design. Posted by Picasa

this is a photo of a photo I took with my phone, so the res is really poor. It is my favourite photo of me and my dear dear friend "a" who was killed mountaineering two years ago. This is when we graduated from medical school together; I loved him so much. I still have this photo on my phone linked to his number, so if ever he should call, his face will flash up. Of course his number is never going to call, and has been disconnected a long long time ago, but I still can't bring myself to delete it. At least I know he is looking after my babies for me, and whenever anyone dies I ask them to say hello to a for me.  Posted by Picasa

my favourite anaesthetic picture. sums it all up, really. Another tough day at the office... Posted by Picasa

that was a really big spider. T caught it for me and we dumped it in a tree outside the front door. The width of the container is about 9 cm so that sucker was probably 12 or 13 cm (5 inches). SCARY ! And it was next to my desk!!!! Posted by Picasa

my speck when he/she was alive Posted by Picasa

well, that wasn't so hard; more phone photos Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


This post won't be very coherent. Sorry.

I read yesterday on someone else's blog that she, too, had lost her baby. I am sure this person thinks I am some kind of kook, but it's all too wierd: I found her blog originally as I was trying to find my eldest brother's old blog (Why I Hate Everything) and hers came up on Google. We seemed very similar in personality, so I took to lurking on the site (I think that is what it is called). Anyway, the day after I found out I was pregnant, she posted that she had also just found out she was pregnant too on her blog. Her husband is an Anaesthetist (Anaesthesiologist), and I am too. All the symptoms she had, I had. Then, horror of horrors, just after I had had my D&C she had an ultrasound that confirmed her baby had died, too.

I suppose it just shows how common miscarriage is; that a woman in Newcastle Australia and New York New York can lose their baby almost to thr same day.

It also is a sign of the universality of some emotions: she is feeling all that I am feeling, or felt at least when I lost my first pregnancy, and most of the ones I am feeling right now.

Specifically, that it is somehow all my fault; that I'm terrified that I won't ever be able to have children; that this is the end of the world; that when I do fall pregnant again, I will not be able to have the same joy, and I will be terrified that I will lose it again (at 6 weeks, at nine weeks...).

Thursday, February 09, 2006

goodbye speck

Well, that's how it goes.

My Speck didn't hang in there. I'm back to being unpregnant.

It's been said a thousand times, but since no-one reads other people's blogs, I'm going to say it again for my own catharsis; It's not fair how those that really want children can't have them and those who don't want them can't stop having them.

Thankfully the hospital at which I am currnetly working has no Obstetrics so I won't have to go into a room with a swearing, horrible woman who screams "I never wanted a baby anyway" and "just f*&king get rid of it will you!" whilst I struggle to put in an epidural. That was actually the case when I had my last miscarriage; suffice to say I had to get one of my colleagues to come and finish the procedure as I couldn't see through my tears.

Look after yourselves.

Wednesday, February 01, 2006

inevitable -> threatened

The last few days have been some of the longest in my life.

Woke up the other day, did a little study, went to the loo.


Not good. Not good. Not GOOD! Oh no, not again, please not again....

Several hours later, being ultrasounded: I see my little person for the first time, but the dates they are calculating from these tiny, grainy pictures are about a week earlier than I had thought. It is too early to see a heartbeat or any pulsatile flow at all in the little speck, so I'm told it's 'inconclusive'. Bloody hell.

My GP tells me to get some blood tests taken the next day (I have the distinct feeling she should have ordered them the same day). Having woken myself up early to get into the Pathology centre as early as they opened, I wait all day to get a result.

The result is, well, inconclusive. The beta-HCG is consistent with a fetal age ofaround about the same weeks as the ultrasound. This could mean that everything's alright, it could also mean that Speck stopped growing a week ago, and this means there is no future for it. I have to wait another day and get another blood test on Friday (tomorrow). I am highly tempted to get it done at work (public hospital) because first of all I know it takes them three hours, max, to get a result, and also, I can go into work and look it up myself.

I am in limbo. My tiny Speck could be ok, or it could be another sibling for my little family in the stars.

I don't want my babies in the stars. I want them here. With me. I want to see my babies. I want to smell them, feel them, touch them, watch them grow.

But what I want is irrelevant. The cold hard facts are there. I'm nearly 35, that makes my risk of first trimester miscarriage about 15%. (By the time you're 45 it's 75%).

Please hang in there, Speck. Please, my poor old, abused body, please hang on. Please. I don't know if I could do this again. The grief and the heartache are killing me.