11.04.2004

Headaches and 13 Year Olds... Could There Be A Connection?

The Lupron. Oh the Lupron. The evil drug of the damned. I swear it could turn people into actual zombies. Perhaps that is what they gave those freaks in Dawn of the Dead…Lupron! This drug…oh it is so not a good drug. The headaches are my biggest complaint. Every afternoon they set in…somewhere between 2 and 4pm. They feel like someone has slammed me across the back of the head with a 2x4. It is not pleasant. Then there is the eye-ache. The kind where any light makes your eyes hurt. And noise makes the headache worse.

And then there is the crying. I am not exactly an over-emotional woman. I don’t cry at the drop of a hat. Well, I didn’t used to. Now commercials can bring tears to my eyes…no kidding! Needless to say, I am anxious to be done with the Lupron.

Tomorrow we get to start an additional drug, Follistim. Then I can have two drugs battling it out with my sanity. Wonder what fun effects come with that cocktail? Want some? Yeah – I thought not. Scared????

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In other news… we received a phone call this morning from our youngest daughter. She had left her pencil bag here and wanted me to bring it to her. I agreed. On the way to school at a red light, I looked in the pencil bag. It contained: 1 pencil, 1 pen, 1 blue marker, and several folded up pieces of paper. The curiosity got the best of me, and I read the notes that were in there. These notes were the reason I was taking this bag to school – so she could have these notes.

OH MY GOD. My daughter had written several love notes to a boy. And they were juicy. Now, she is 13. Way too young to be so googly over a boy in my opinion. So, I carefully wrote little memos across these notes…just to let her know I knew what she was up to. On one I wrote: “You are totally in trouble if you give this to a boy. Mom”, and on another “Stop writing notes and do your homework. Mom”, and on the two blank pieces of paper “Do not write love notes on this paper. Mom”. Yes – I am that mean. And – I happened to tell the school secretary exactly what was in my daughter’s pencil bag, and what I had done. Go me.

She will NEVER forgive me.