More Cleaning Fun: Disposing of Unused and Expired Medicine

I decided to go through our medicine cabinet for the first time in the almost 8 years living in our house to get rid of unused and expired medicine. I wasn't too surprised at the number of prescriptions and over-the-counter medicines we've accumulated over the years.

Recently the news reported that they found antibiotics in drinking water in several states in the U.S.. Although Illinois apparently did not participate, I wouldn't be surprised if tests showed the same results.

People are not supposed to flush medicine down the toilet because the system is not set up to rid itself of medicine. You are not supposed to just throw medicine in the garbage either, because an animal or a human could ingest them (a pretty sad human!!) I looked online and also called my local Walgreens pharmacist to ask if they had a clean-your-medicine-cabinet drive as mentioned on government websites.

I was instructed to do the following:

1. Liquid medicine - Combine with coffee grounds and put in container in garbage can

2. Pills - Crush them and combine with coffee grounds and put in container in garbage can

This will take me a lot longer than anticipated. I have a lot of medicine to pound and a lot of coffee to drink (decaf of course)!!

Young Antiquarian Dreams Fade to Brown and Yellow Pages

Mark and I are getting ready to sell our house and buy another. So in doing so, we have to go through *every* little thing we own and decide to keep it or give it away.

Growing up, if you were to ask me what my most valued possession was, I would have said my book collection. I was a voracious reader and I would purchase books whenever I would travel with my mother on her many business trips. When I started traveling as adult, I kept that habit and would visit local bookshops while on vacation - like in London, Sydney, and Edinburgh.

One thing I had to do was go through my book collection and to my dismay, my paperbacks have really deteriorated! Amazing what 20 years will do to a paperback book - brown inside covers, yellowing pages, it really sucks. So needless to say, the lesson is to simply buy hardcover when possible. Better investment.

It was common practice for me to write a little something on the title page along with the date I purchase the book. I ripped out these title pages of books that I had to donate:

This first one is my absolute favorite:

From Stolen Rapture:
June 13, 1990 Why does this used book smell like stale vomit?

These other ones, however, are so goody goody. Yeah, I guess I was a big goody two shoes:

From Moby Dick:
March 4, 1991 I am an English major. I better read this! (um, I never did)

this is much much worse:

From Leaves of Grass
April 22, 1991 I bought this book 2 days ago when we visited Hooeyspewer in Champaign. It took too long to choose a book. I knew I could only spend 3 dollars. I love verse (NO I DON'T) I shall enjoy this book (I never read it). I particularly like this cover. Very scenic and tranquil. (BARF).

From How Old Was Lolita?
November 7, 1991 This is not smut. Anyone who wins the Hemingway award is fine in my books. Who the hell is Lolita?

Anyway, I ended up donating one full box of paperback books. I actually wanted to keep half of them, but since they were in such bad shape, I opted not to -due to my allergies. I kept sneezing while I was leafing through each and every one. These were books I thought I would have forever - thus writing on the title page! Something in me is kind of sad.

Freak Out

When I was 4 years old, my cousin and his wife took me, my sister, and their son to the church carnival at night - after dinner. For some reason, our parents didn't come. It was dark and there were lots of things to see. I must have stared at something for far too long because when I turned around, all the people I was with were gone. All I saw were lots of people in the crowds towering over me and I was completely scared. I cried and walked around looking for them, and eventually we were reunited. I remember my cousin wiping my tears away with a huge ring on his finger. Even though I was probably lost for ten minutes, I obviously never forgot that event.

When I became a mother, I promised myself to never give Ricky any kind of memory like that one - where he is alone and afraid.

Today I messed up - kind of...

Ricky's toddler tumbling class takes place on the first floor of the gymnastics center for the first 45 minutes. The last 15 minutes of class are spent on the second floor where the kids can bounce around on all the "big kids" equipment like a floor-length trampoline. Anyways, when class was over and it was time to go, Ricky wanted to take the elevator down. So we got in the elevator and the door shut and Ricky wanted to press the button "1" but he didn't. He wouldn't. And the elevator started humming and making scary noises so after he ignored my pleads to PRESS THE BUTTON, I pressed the button myself.

He was really mad at me and started yelling at me that he was to press the button, NOT me. When we reached the first floor, the elevator doors opened, and he wouldn't get off the elevator. I kept asking him to come with me, that we had to go. He had his arms folded and said NO. So I stepped off the elevator and expected him to eventually follow and to our surprise, THE DOOR CLOSED. I turned around at the noise - and was stunned. My baby. Was still on that elevator.

The elevator went back up to the second floor. Ricky was on the elevator alone. By himself.

I told the teacher who was halfway between floors on the staircase and she ran up and carried him down the steps. He looked fine but when I took him from her he started to cry and kept saying, "You left me on the elevator. I'm sad." And he said it all the way home in the car too.

I feel terrible and I am afraid that this event really terrified him and he will remember it forever. He will be 40 years old and blame me for such and such because of the time I left him on the elevator.

That's One Big Needle

I am rolling up my sleeve, expecting an injection to be administered on my arm. I watch the nurse take out a very very large needle - like 5 inches long - and fills it with the medicine from the vial.

Me : Ummm...isn't that needle a bit large for my arm? I mean, it looks like it will go right through my arm!!!

Nurse: (laughing) Yeah, it's so big because it's actually for your butt cheek.

I haven't had an injection on my rear-end since I was a kid and now I remember why I would cry.

Baby Ducky is THREE - party number one

I've survived 4 days on Clomid and looks like my husband has also. The only time I felt the meds were making me crazy was over the weekend when Ricky begged my mom to stay a bit longer to read some bedtime books. She really needed to go - as did my sis and brother in law, but Ricky kept begging and begging. He was so cute pleading that I got a bit weepy-eyed. It's not over yet - one more day!

So we had Ricky's first (of 2 parties) birthday party at a pizza place. This was the family party. I ordered him a Dinosaur cake - which he liked and he is running all around the house with the dinosaurs - Mark cleaned them off first, of course. Ricky loves family gatherings so he was very happy and hardly ate a bite of anything. But he gets that way when he is excited - as he did at Christmas - he ate nothing all day.

We were mean parents and asked all our family members to not buy him any toys. He has way too many toys and we have run out of room. He received lots of educational books and materials - to his and his mother's delight. I am so happy my son likes books so much. What on earth would I do if he hated books? He loves Little Quack and my sister and brother in law bought him all the Little Quack books and the stuffed animal - as you can see.

Secondary Infertility - so far

After being in fertility treatments for over a month, it's been determined that I am normal. While I am relieved to be considered normal, Mark and I are both puzzled as to why we have not been able to get pregnant in over a year.

They tested all kinds of things in my blood - I probably went to have blood taken at least 4 times so far. I tested well for all the hormones I am supposed to have.

I've had multiple ultrasounds and an HSG (Hysterosalpingogram) - which was the worst pain I have endured in 20 minutes - yes it was worse than labor pains. They insert dye into your uterus to check if you have any blockages in your fallopian tubes. They told me to take some Motrin in the waiting room and said I "might have some cramping." About 2 minutes after the test, I was doubled over crying and Mark had to buy me more Motrin. I took four. Note to self: when doctors tell you to take Motrin in the waiting room, you're really going to hurt!

So I am undergoing my second cycle of fertility testing and hopefully the end of the tunnel is coming. They increased my dosage of Clomid and I had to purchase a shot of HGC to bring with me to my ultrasound when I get a positive reading on my daily ovulation pee stick. It hasn't happened yet even though I finished the Clomid. I guess my eggies aren't quite ready yet.

Last week I was in the waiting room with a woman who brought her (looked like) 5-6 year old son. Although he was older than Ricky, it didn't seem so bad with an age difference like that. Ricky might just be that boy - who knows. I feel bad for her as well as the other women I share the waiting room with - and it was interesting for me to see another person with secondary infertility. I bet it's more common than I realize - I just don't know anybody else with the same issues I have.... but I bet they're out there.

Hormonal and Hopeful

So after one round of fertility, I am not pregnant. The nurse called to tell me the news and I made things easier for her by telling her I knew already. The poor woman has to give this news to eager and hopeful patients every day. But it was fine for me. How more disappointing can this be when I am so used to it now. Of course I'm not pregnant. How in the world could I be?

All I can do is hope that this is the month it will finally happen. That's what I have been holding onto every month.

My fertility doctor has chosen to do more conservative efforts first like giving me Clomid and having timed relations before suggesting inseminations or invitro. This is absolutely what Mark and I want. We want it to be as natural as possible.

So this past month I was on Clomid and it made me super sensitive to the point of pathetic. Cartoons made me cry - everything made me cry. And the bad part is that I can't stop crying once it starts. And guess what? This month they are going to *double* the dosage I had last month. I have already started warning friends and family to beware.