[insert long exasperated sigh]

My mood still isn't right. I just can't put my finger on it. I'm not overwhelmingly sad. I feel... flat. I don't feel like doing anything. Whatever.

I went to see my RE yesterday. I called them after my visit to the ER and they said I should be seen. Turns out their conclusion was identical to the ER's conclusion: pelvic inflammatory disease.

Color me stupid. PID is something people (myself included) almost always associate with STDs. And how on planet earth could I have gotten an STD?? I had a dream the night after the ER that The Monkey had cheated on me and given me an STD. And then he blatently told me he was tired of my "bullshit" and we were done. I woke myself up crying. And gave him the cold shoulder for part of the day. Haha.

But the nurse said with my "history" of problems that my endometrium probably grew out of control and I didn't have a proper period to get rid of all the tissue and fluid. And, basically, it got "backed up" and an infection ensued and then lots of horrible pain that I do not wish to experience ever again in my entire life. (I am not ashamed of the fact that if we ever do get pregnant that I will be planning on having an epidural. I really don't give a crap who thinks it's a "bad decision" because it's not their body and it won't be their kid so they can kiss my ass.)

Anyhow. The nurse said that should the pain continue I'd need to make an appointment with my RE directly so she could examine me herself and determine whether or not I'll need another lap in the near future. Or perhaps need to switch birth control pills. Or suppress my ovaries all together for the moment. (Not too keen on that last option.)

Infection is nothing to mess around with when it comes to the girly bits. Especially when my girly bits are already severely malfunctioning. So, despite the $100 copay that I have no means to pay (on top of The Monkey's $100 ER copay) I am glad I went to the ER.

For now, the pain has subsided. I started my new pack of birth control and, so far, have not had any of the twinges and cramps that I had with my last pack. So maybe that's a good sign.

I can't believe it's September already. I'm getting bummed because I don't think we're going to be able to afford Metallica tickets + gas to get to Tampa + a hotel for two nights. My parents are planning a Labor Day barbecue this Sunday. At least I have something to look forward to. I want to make some potato and macaroni salad. Sis is making baked beans. Mom and Dad are going to smoke a couple of Boston Butts and some ribs. And my dad's brother is going to bring fresh corn on the cob for the grill. Speaking of my dad's brother... he's been dating this woman for a while. She has a little boy... it's hard to judge how old he is because he's very small for his age but I think he's four going on five. The kid isn't potty trained yet. They really don't take good care of him. The live in a dilapidated trailer that has plywood floors and garbage everywhere. I don't think she works. My dad's brother is the "maintenance man" for this trailer park they live in (which is a deplorable area) and I'm not sure what he gets for it other than free rent for this barely liveable trailer. My dad tells me yesterday that she is pregnant. Not sure how far along but apparently she was already pregnant at our 4th of July barbecue. Not that you'd ever know because she was chain smoking her little cigars and drinking. So as if that's not bad enough, my mom tells me that the baby tested positive for trisomy 21. I can't believe this. They don't take care of the little boy she already has and now they are going to bring a special needs baby into this world into those living conditions?!?

I will never EVER as long as I live understand why people like them can procreate so easily and so many deserving couples can't conceive. It's not right.

So I'm going to try to put blinders on for the barbecue on Sunday. I'm really not keen on seeing a pregnant woman chain smoking cigarettes and gulping down booze. If you're selfish enough to get pregnant when you don't want to, at least have the decency to take care of yourself for fscks sake.

Whatever.

Now I need to go try and get motivated to shower and get dressed. I have to go see my pdoc to get a refill on my Lamictal. I think it's high time that I looked for another pdoc and a real therapist.