First post of 2012 ... in late February.

I guess I jinxed myself with that last post. Of course, because I made a point to state that I'm jazzed up about posting more, my life imploded. Not in a bad way, but things definitely got kicked up a notch. Here's a short list of things that have taken place since December 18:

1. Christmas/hospital trip #1

2. Our anniversary
3. Second job
4. Almost adopted a dog
5. New car
6. Back door shot up by a bibi gun
7. My dead dog's first birthday since he left - boo hooooo
8. Anthony Bourdain
9. Planning a new cruise - finally
10. Hospital trip #2

I think I figured out the best way to summarize everything is to break it up into daily entries. Writing about everything in one post would make for a lengthy entry, and who has that kind of time? Therefore, I'll take each event one-at-a-time, and it'll hold me accountable for blogging more consistently. At least for the next week or so.

Grab a cup of coffee, sit down & let's chat.

As excited as I was about Christmas, and everyone coming to our house this year for the big Christmas feast, things did not turn out exactly as I had hoped. I was woken up around 5:00am Christmas morning, not by Santa or reindeer hooves on the roof, but by sharp pains in my abdomen. It felt almost crampy, but very intense. I took a lot of deep breaths, the pain subsided, and I fell back asleep until Z came bounding in our room to wake us up & open presents (roughly 7:00am). After being up for a little while, and watching Z open all his loot, the pain returned & lingered this time. We began our busy day anyway ... Aaron cleaned the house, scrubbed the floors, and dusted, while I started the turkey, as well as all the prep work for desserts & side dishes. Around 11:00am, the pain was becoming more & more intolerable, and I told the boys I needed to go lay down for a while. I was unsure what this pain was, but I was certain it was becoming more intense, and laying down was the only instinctual idea I had to make myself feel better. Laying down did seem to ease things a little, but I was still very uncomfortable and could only lay there about an hour. The culinary pressures of the day were starting to eat at me, so I got back up and attempted to continue cooking, only to find I couldn't really stand much anymore. The pain was pretty incredible, and sitting was the only way I could get anything done. My family began to trickle in around this time, and it was decided by a unanimous vote that I did not look well. My Mom finally stepped in when she saw me attempting to simmer homemade cranberry sauce and baste the turkey, all the while, looking like The Hunchback of Notre Dame by the stove. She took me into my bedroom to do some triage, and started pressing on my stomach. When she pushed on the right side of my gut, I almost went through the ceiling, and she immediately insisted I have my sister take me to the ER. What?! On CHRISTMAS DAY?!! Hell no, I said! I was sure it would eventually pass, and was being defiant, at best. She let me know it was either my ovary or my appendix, neither of which should be ignored, so I didn't have much choice. Very reluctantly, and choking back tears of pissed-off-ness and frustration, I waved goodbye to my entire family and went to the ER.

Turns out, a cyst on my right ovary ruptured. Nice timing. The bitch of this is that I had *just* gone for a follow-up ultrasound to check on that same ovary two days before Christmas, because it had been acting up for months prior.

I was diagnosed with poly-cystic ovaries (PCOS) in 2010, but really hadn't had anything go "wrong". At my annual ultrasound in October 2011, they were looking at my PCOS, but instead found something ugly. My right ovary had a septated cyst, and they were concerned, so they asked me to wait six weeks and have another ultrasound done. Their initial concern freaked me out, and I began researching septated cysts on the internet like a mad woman -- ya know, the one thing you should NEVER do. What I found and read haunted me, and I walked around for six weeks wondering if I was about to be told I had cancer. Septated cysts very often turn into cancer, which is why they wanted me back to check it again. Thankfully, I dodged the cancer bullet, but what *was* there turned out to be a beast and exploded. At the follow-up ultrasound, the cyst that ruptured is clearly visible, but I had the ultrasound done on December 23, and apparently every radiologist in Austin was off for the holiday, so my films had not been seen yet by the time Christmas morning came around. My gyno told me afterward that had anyone read my films, they could've at least told me this was coming. There wouldn't have been anything they could do to stop it, but I would've gotten a heads-up about what might be taking place inside my body, and that I might end up needing help for pain. But all's well that ends well, and I was glad to rule out cancer and rule out my appendix rupturing, which was their first guess when I checked into the ER. (That would've bought me surgery on Christmas night, and just having to BE there was bad enough.) My family all came up to the hospital that night after they so kindly ate the food I had been slaving over in agony, and we had our own little celebration up there in room 10.

I was reminded that night how fabulous my family is, and how lucky I am. That night, I was also introduced to the magical liquid injection known as Dilaudid. This is the King of narcotics, the end all-be all of feeling amaaaaaaaaaaazing. Pain? What pain? I didn't even know I had ovaries anymore after they gave me this stuff. There's nothing quite like spending Christmas night high on pain killers, but I'm glad it wasn't because the holidays were stressful and my family drove me to do so. (Well, they did literally, but you know what I mean.) My parents said they wonder how we're ever going to top Christmas 2011, but I'm shooting for the most traditional, boring, mundane version of Christmas that I can put together this year. I'm always in favor of shaking things up a bit, but not quite like this. One round of ovary explosion is enough for me.

Tomorrow, news about our anniversary, and my recently acquired second job, at a place I love. My lucky streak continues ... where, you ask? Here's a hint: