How do you deal with athlete’s foot when your preferred option (neat lavender oil) is not an option. And when Daktarin is not an option (blood thinners… apparently I’m not supposed to have vast quantities of mature cheese or broccoli or cranberry juice while on the things)?
I have found some foot powder stuff I bought while on rugby tour. I wonder if it has any potency left. Same active ingredient as you get in Canestan cream. However, it doesn’t seem to contraindicate based on the label. The internet, as usual, cannot make its mind up. So I don’t think I want to continue with that. Maybe I need to get some really low dose Canestan cream?
I suspect I am reduced to wiping the disgusting grot with surgical spirit. I will have to ask the pharmacist in Boots. Maybe a foot bath with lavender and tea tree in it?
Maybe I ought to do some work.
We have cold, icy, rain. N’s run yesterday involved unavoidable deep puddles in which the moorhens were swimming. It sounded horrible. I stayed in bed. I have been sleeping pretty badly for the past 3 months now, and the bed is toasty warm and comfortable.
I eventually hauled myself out so we could go to the Jean-Michel Basquiat exhibition at the Barbican. We did the usual thing of getting slightly lost in the area (why is it so hard to navigate? There are signposts, for heavens’ sake!) and spent a happy couple of hours. I think N enjoyed it more than I did. I flagged massively. All I really wanted to do yesterday was eat…
We had cake at John Lewis. It was very good cake. Although they’ve changed their range again, and the particularly good, sticky, chocolate cake was either sold out or not a gf option. I hope it comes back soon.
I think the cake (it had pumpkin seeds on it) backfired on me slightly at 3am with trapped wind. After a worry that the cramps were indicative of something going terribly wrong, I timed them (madwoman) and realised they were at really irregular intervals: tough to tell without using a watch at 3am, when one’s mind is at a low ebb and one’s perceptions not at their best, and twigged that they eased with escaping wind. I could actually feel the gurgles. Eventually I rolled onto my front…and everything stopped hurting and I got back to sleep. A new cure for trapped wind, perchance? Squash it out? Or possibly coincidence. Either way it was a great relief in every aspect. I suspect much of the discomfort relates to the OHSS: the hormones sloshing about mean that’s really taking its time to go down, and there’s not a massive amount of room in there when one factors in a bladder which fills at the slightest provocation and a sluggish digestion. The bruising from the anticoagulant injections doesn’t help – all over my stomach, with a couple which are actual bruisey lumps (and I have a couple of super bruises from falling over a drawer and crashing into the radiator on Saturday. Am Seriously considering wrapping myself in bubblewrap as Arnica Cream seems to be on the Currently Forbidden list). I think I have an appointment with the anticoagulant clinic on Friday. I’m not sure: I’ve had a text notification of an appointment of some description, but it only says hospital and time. Not department. I am mystified.
So. Wind. Constipation. Lack of sleep. Huge boobs (honestly, it’s very surprising catching sight of them in the mirror post shower). Perpetual burping (mint tea is a huge relief. In fact, mint anything is). Bruises. All things I had not anticipated, but which I am vaguely embracing as this is all kinda miraculous.
Much relief and happiness. It’s still very, very early days. All sorts of things could still go wrong. But right now, I am cautiously optimistic and happy.
The two words “viability scan” are horrible.
It took me fully two hours to get out of bed. I cried in the shower. I don’t “feel pregnant”. I am convinced there will be a gaping lacuna where there should be a Thing1. I am bracing for a really horribly messy period (26mm of endometrial lining plus anticoagulants. That cannot possibly end well). Since the muesli episodes, I haven’t really felt particularly sick, just a bit burpy. I’ve been tired and emotional: but then again I’ve had OHSS and a DVT. I had a nap at work yesterday afternoon, in a wellness room which seems to have been overtaken as a stock room for refreshments for the mini conference going on this week. I haven’t been particularly hungry, and I feel the cold weather. Hardly harbingers of anything other than doom.
4 more hours until the scan appointment. I bet they run late. I bet I’m not pregnant. Again.
And I don’t need to go for a scan until Wednesday. Long may this hospital avoidance continue, as it’s all quite exhausting enough. Today involved a frustrating set of phone calls to actually get more blood thinner. I now have another five days’ worth as they’re still trying to get the proper prescription signed (since Wednesday. Once I have got this sorted, I shall be complaining, as this is ludicrous).
The nice thing is that I have hit my steps target every day, more or less, since Wednesday. I have also needed a nap most of those days. Tomorrow I am actually going to go into the office. Prove I exist. Pray my power cable is still there, and that I can find my lockable box…
It turns out, the chances of having a DVT with IVF is something like 0.4%. With odds like that: I should buy a lottery ticket.