I hope you will accept this advance apology for the next two weeks: I am overwhelmed on the personal and professional fronts right now. I will get back to writing something interesting in the near future, and hope you will stick with me for a little while.
Returned from L.A. last night. Going down again this weekend. Nam is not rebounding well, but she is being transferred to the transitional care wing in preparation for a possible move to a nursing home. In-home care may be out of the question, though we are still hoping. She is bone-tired, but not in pain. My dad is shaky, but the Sinamet (sp?) for his Parkinsons is helping him out some. He is still depressed and being more helpless than circumstances warrant, but at least he's not barricading himself inside the house anymore.
Work is hectic in the extreme. The commute of two-plus hours each day--which will, thankfully, not be the norm once this project is over and I'm working mostly from home--doesn't help the fact that I'm putting in a lot of hours, but am not comfortable with billing for them all as I'm still learning the system that I'm documenting, while figuring out some of the finer features of Word 2003 that any technical writer worth her AP Style Guide should really know. And I really don't want to scare them off with my first invoice. Especially now that they've brought on a second contract technical writer--whom they refer to as a "junior" tech writer because she only has degrees and no work experience, even though her degrees are in English and biology, with a year-long certification course under her belt specifically for tech writing. (Who's paranoid? Me! Me! Me!)
On the IVF front, I can say that my new doctor--whom I shall refer to as Dr. FYC, for reasons that may be mysterious, or not, depending--seems like a good fit for us. And not just because he said I'm still young. I know you think that it's just the flattery that has won me over, but...OK, it's the flattery. You're right. Plus, the new protocol is exactly what I expected, with the exception of a short break from the BCP's next week. We will not use the Lupron. My thighs are happy. He thinks I can make more eggs. He thinks my eggs are probably still good. He's paid to say these things, but they're nice to hear anyway. I start shooting up in about two weeks, I think. Need to check my calendar. For those of you who remember the Orange Folder of Doom, I now have an all-electronic version for this cycle. My R.E.'s office is going paperless. Sorta. But that hasn't kept me from closing my eyes and ignoring the file all the same; it just can't mock me in its orangeness from the kitchen table.
OK, that's it for now. Back to the gruesomeness. And then it's on to penne pesto, peppercress salad and sweet, ripe watermelon, as a treat for enduring the drudgery.