(You can find me on Snapchat as memary84.)
(You can find me on Snapchat as memary84.)
I blame the Metformin.
Okay, so Metformin is the medicine I have to take for my diabetes/pcos. It’s supposed to help both things. I’m not sure it does, but I’m taking the pill anyway. I am sure that it hates me.
On a good day, I take it and just feel a bit off. The way you feel when you’re about to come down with something, but you aren’t truly sick yet. However, on a bad day, things get ugly.
And the bad days are far more frequent than the good days
Here’s a bad round with Metformin. It acts like I’ve come down with a stomach bug. I get achy (head and all over), lightheaded and dizzy, hot, exhausted, everything in me liquifies and comes out the southern end accompanied by intense abdominal pain, and then there’s the nausea. So much freaking nausea. The good news is, I only feel this way the first 12-24 hours after I’ve taken my meds. Usually, by the time it’s time to take my next dose (24 hours later) these symptoms have abated. Just in time, to start the whole process all over.
Believe me, I’ve tried to appease the Metformin deities. It doesn’t matter if I make good food choices or bad, it doesn’t matter if I’ve been in constant motion or just been a sedentary rock for the day. This med just hates me, so very much.
I’ve told every doctor I’ve seen about how the Metformin hates me, and I pretty much always get the sane response, “Well, you have diabetes and pcos, and this is the med we prescribe for both those things.” My ob-gyn’s solution was taking me off the non-extended release form and putting me on extended release (er) so that I take it at night, before bed, and will sleep through the worst of it. Some nights this works, and then some nights are like last night.
Last night, I took my medicine and headed to bed. Instead of waiting for me to fall asleep, the stomach pain started and I knew I needed a distraction, because sleep was probably not going to happen for a while. So, I hopped on Hearthstone, and it mostly kept me focused away from the pain. Then, though, I got into competitive mode.
I’ve been playing Hearthstone super casually for over a year. Mostly, I only played when the boy had a quest he needed to complete and it required playing against a friend, or having your game be observed by a friend. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I learned about ranked play. I knew that there were professional players, considered the best, but I hadn’t a clue how they had become ranked. Did the game just log that they played a ton? It was genuinely a mystery. Then the boy received an in-game reward, and when I questioned how he had gotten it, he explained that I could actually play and get ranked and vet free stuff. I like free stuff. I felt so dumb for not having figured this out on my own.
So, last night, I was actually doing pretty decently and making my rank slowly crawl up, and I got a little sucked into the game. At one point it suddenly dawned on me that when I’ve seen pictures of the best Hearthstone players, they’re all male. And suddenly, something inside me was very annoyed. Brcause I know I’m not the only female who plays the game. Which made me then more determined to climb the rankings. Maybe it was because it was the middle of the night, but suddenly I was rambling to the boy about how this game needed way more female representation on the leader board, and I really think I should make it a goal to be one of those females. And he, being the supportive husband went, “Ok, babe.” Which may not read supportive, but it totally was.
And then it was 3 a.m., and I was finally so tired, it outweighed my abdominal misery.
I slept for four hours, woke up and had a half-hour of quality time with the bathroom and my angry tummy, and then decided to share my pain and craziness with all of you.
Weirdly, that late night fervour I suddenly felt to excel at Hearthstone, didn’t pass like the contents of my stomach did. I’m awake, exhausted, but awake, and I still want to try to see if I can become, if not a top player, a really awesome player. (Wow, that sentence had a ton of commas. Believe it or not, I actually excelled in grammar back in high school.)
At least it would mostly distract me from the Metformin.
When I was five, I wanted Princess Leia to be my mom. She was gorgeous, funny, and kicked butt. She spoke her mind, and didn’t let anyone bully her (we all saw what happened to Jabba). On top of all this, she was a princess! Five-year-old me was pretty sure she didn’t need much more to recommend her for the position. However, the role of “mother” was already filled in my house, so all I could do was dream about the mother I’d never have.
When I was in junior high, I read an article in Time and learned that Carrie Fisher had a daughter. I was secretly jealous of Billie Lourd. Her mom was Princess Leia, the coolest woman in the world! She was clearly the luckiest kid on the planet.
It’s been a very long time since I wished to have a space princess mom. I got older. I discovered that my real mom was basically Wonder Woman (always saving the day, and loving me more than I deserved), and that in the real world, Princess Leia wasn’t quite so perfect.
Carrie Fisher was a very funny lady, and a fantastic writer. She did what is so hard to do. She wrote about the things she struggled with, and did it honestly and beautifully. I’ve read her memoirs and laughed ’til I cried as I read stories that made my problems seem so small and my life seem so normal. Without her writing, we wouldn’t know that George Lucas firmly believed that there was no underwear in space. (I truly wonder what NASA has to say about this.)
Carrie Fisher would’ve made a terrible mom for me. However, she gave me (and the rest of the world) Princess Leia, and for that I’ll always be grateful.
Guys, look what I found at the bookstore today!
It’s a novel that’s a sequel to my all-time favorite Trek movie (Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home)! I didn’t even know this book existed, and I stumbled across it by accident. How awesome is that?!? I’m hoping that this novel will answer some questions I’ve always had. Questions like: Where did the probe come from? What did it and the whales say to each other? Did the whale scientist from 1984 thrive in the future, or did it all turn out really bad for her? Also, did the whales survive in the future, or was it too much of a shock to their system?
It’s crazy that Star Trek is 50 today. I feel really fortunate that I grew up with a mom that loved Star Trek (and a dad that loved Star Wars). When I was really little, it started when I was two or three, I would sit on my dad’s foot and when he would try to walk I’d gleefully announce that I was a Klingon. Okay, I didn’t quite understand the concept of alien races when I was that young, but I was convinced that they were called Klingons because they clung on to other people. I agree, my brain is an odd place…
Last year, when the boy and I took a mini-honeymoon we fulfilled a bucket list item of mine:
Look at that, I had my own personal Redshirt with me.
Happy Anniversary, Star Trek, may you continue to teach the importance of using your brain, being a compassionate, tolerant human, and making me wish I had access to a holodeck.
I love the 1960’s Batman. It’s fun, it’s campy, and it taught good lessons about how to be a decent human being. What more could you ask from a television show? Among the many gems that can be found in Batman, this might be my favorite…
Really, the only thing missing from this scene is Batman stating that he’s going to give Batgirl a “whiff of Batgas.” (Watch other episodes, that’s exactly how he says it. I could not make this up.)
So, apparently, Bat-Cow is a real thing. When the boy mentioned it in a conversation this weekend, I thought it was a joke. Then, I looked it up and found that it does exist.
Definitely one of the weirder things I’ve encountered lately (which is saying a lot, considering all the things I see at work).
So…I’m a bit (and by bit, I mean several years) of a latecomer to this party, but I’m finally watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Now, I’ve had Buffy sitting on my Netflix queue for years, but I’ve never been able to get into it. I think I’ve tried watching the first episode three or four times, and just couldn’t finish it. I finally decided to skip finishing episode one (for now) and just move on to episode two. Turns out this was a brilliant idea. I’m now hooked on the campy horror.
Even though I’m only in season one, I feel like I’ve been severely misjudging this show. (It’s amazing how easy it is to misjudge something you haven’t actually watched.) So far I’ve found that it’s well written, really funny, and even a chicken like me can watch it alone without getting too freaked out.
The other good thing about this? Now when the boy makes Buffy references, I won’t have to sit there with this blank look on my face forcing him to explain. In fact, I’m probably going to annoy him to no end with my new found love of the Buffyverse.
And on a non-Buffy related note, but a sparkly vampire related note, I leave you with this…