I'm back... I think.

Eric and I were yakking on the phone the other night, talking about nothing of great import, when my mind strayed to the house in which I grew up. It was at 1404 Grand Avenue, on the North Side of Fort Worth. (It was burned to the ground by Bill Chappell back in the mid 80's.) It must have been built around the turn of the century, during the Cattle Baron days of Cowtown because it had an Edwardian look about it and because there had been a fireplace in the kitchen which some previous owner enclosed with drywall.

I talked on and on about the house, things I remembered doing in it, being able to see the fireworks downtown from the front porch, being a block from a park, playing hide and go seek with the kids across the street. I never realized before how happy my childhood was for the most part, taking into consideration the fact that my mother was bi-polar, and tried to drag the whole family along on her mood swings.

Last night, Eric and I were at the Shamrock, and I forced him to play dirty Scrabble with me. I won, of course, since he wasn't much inspired to play in the first place, and the best he could come up with was "ho". My best was "quim". Q's are worth 10 points each (or it it 8?), and it was on a triple letter score, so the play was worth around 35 points. I drank five glasses of pear cider, and had a headache when I got home (I suspect more from smelling cigarette smoke than the alcohol), but I drank some water and took an aspirin before going to bed, and was fine this morning.

Physically, I've been feeling really tired lately, as the period from hell hasn't ended. That isn't entirely true. I've had maybe two or three days without bleeding, but I cough, sneeze, or tighten my abdominal muscles for any reason, and the period starts back up. It's not a full-fledged period, but pretty much a continuous pinkish discharge. My guess is the fibroid is somehow being assaulted by the progesterone from the IUD. I'm not having heavy periods any longer nor am I having terrible cramping which causes me to take a flexaril and sleep for two days, but the flow is never ending. This is getting tiresome. I used to have to wear pads everyday because of stress incontience. Now I have to wear them everyday because of the fibroid. If reincarnation is true, I'm coming back as a man in my next life. In the meanwhile, I need to buy stock in Proctor & Gamble, makers of Always With Wings.