“It’s 95 degrees outside? Wow, it’s a nice day.”
Yesterday was one of the most stressful days of my pregnancy thus far, and I didn’t truly realize it until today.
I have this fear of needles. When I was a child, it sometimes took two nurses to hold me down and pry my fist apart so they could prick my finger. So, I’ve been ridiculous all along. I’m obviously not that bad about it now — I just have to look away and breathe deeply. But I still can feel my blood pressure rise when I walk into the lab for a blood draw. It really just stresses me out.
I had to go in for the standard glucose tolerance test yesterday. For the uninitiated, that means that you sit down in the lab and drink a very sweet drink designed to test your body’s response to sugar. Then, an hour later, they draw your blood and check the sugar levels. At my doctor’s office, during that hour wait you have your normal doctor’s appointment.
I downed the sickly-sweet drink and went in for my appointment – urine sample, weigh-in, and blood pressure check. My blood pressure came back pretty high — which is very unusual for me. The nurse left the room and I tried to relax and breathe, and not think about anything (i.e. the needle that they would be using in less than an hour to draw my blood, the possibility that I could have gestational diabetes which would result in me having to stick myself to check my blood sugar and even possibly use insulin, etc.). The doctor came in a few minutes later and checked my blood pressure again, and it was normal.
I’m fairly certain that I had unknowingly worked myself up to the point of raising my blood pressure. This resulted in extra blood being drawn for extra tests, extra steps to the usual examination, and an extra appointment scheduled in one week instead of two — the doctor wanted to make sure I wasn’t exhibiting symptoms of pre-eclampsia. All because I was worried about gestational diabetes and the potential for having to stick myself — a fear which turned out to be totally unfounded because, as I found out this morning, my glucose numbers looked great.
After suffering through last night with being upset and getting very little sleep (and googling pre-eclampsia and eclampsia — here’s a tip: DON’T), I got a call from the doctor’s office that said my other labs looked great too. So no pre-eclampsia concerns at this time. I am just a bit anemic, and need to add an additional iron supplement to my daily round of vitamins. That’s it.
*insert huge sigh and maybe some tears of relief*
Sometimes, I just need to learn to relax and not worry so much. Then again, that’s kind of like telling the sky not to be blue.
*Post title from My Own Worst Enemy by Lit
The number one has been on my mind a lot lately, because I learned a very valuable lesson this week. It is a lesson that you may think is common sense. I would agree but I also will say that the situation in which I learned this lesson was definitely a situation rife with a lack of common sense.
One little word can make the world of difference. The inclusion or exclusion of one little word can have enormous, life-changing consequences in any type of case. But it seems to me that this is especially true in family law cases. Words like primary, or shall, or exclusive, or may, or joint, or sole.
It can mean people not doing things they clearly agreed to do, or doing things they clearly agreed not to do. It can mean the difference between making ends meet or getting your home foreclosed on or your car repossessed. It can mean a drastic change in legal custody or physical care of children that was not intended. It can mean another attorney seizing on that inclusion or omission and running with it no matter the clear spirit of an agreement or decree, and no matter how ethical that behavior may or may not be.
I’ve always known that the legal world is one of technicalities, and accuracy is paramount when you are constantly in that kind of domain. I would say that I look for those same inclusions or omissions to protect my client’s interests just like any other lawyer would. But I know the difference between protecting my client’s interests and taking advantage of a situation when it is clear to everyone involved that my argument is absurd to begin with. I would never give the kind of advice that was given in the case I’ve dealt with this week, because I know that it is wrong.
I know where to draw the line. I guess that is one difference between this other attorney and me.
And I like that one difference.
I’m having one of those days.
You know the type of day I’m talking about: you can’t get anything done to save your life because that thing you had to finish ended up taking forever, you drive an hour each way to get work done on your car and spend six hours in a town you don’t know only to get home later than planned without the work being completed because the service manager didn’t tell you that he needed both keys with the car in order to program the remote start, you try to work remotely but the wifi connection is so crappy that you keep getting disconnected and are only slightly productive anyway, and you come home to realize that the stack of dishes next to the sink means that it’s your turn for that lovely little chore.
I am cranky. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to act like a petulant four year old and throw a temper tantrum. Or maybe I’ll just settle for a giant bowl of peppermint ice cream . . .
Home, of course.
One of the biggest changes I’ve experienced since graduation has been being home just about every night. It is strange and wonderful at the same time.
It’s been a bit of an adjustment at times. I don’t feel as organized as I was each week during law school. When you have to pack your clothes, food, and school books each week to ensure you have everything, it is easy to just get everything together for the week on Sunday. Then you don’t have to think about what you’re wearing, eating, or doing on a specific day. It’s all done for you. Now, I not only have to plan things for myself but also for that extra person who is suddenly around me all the time: the hubby. I can’t just watch what I want to watch, or throw just anything together for a meal. I just can’t change the radio station or monopolize the wi-fi.
But it’s also been wonderful. I get to sleep in my own bed at night, and relax on my comfy couch and watch my television. I get to cook real meals and eat fresh food that isn’t reheated every day. I don’t have to worry about forgetting something, because even when I’m at work it’s only a 15 minute drive if I truly need it.
Most of all, I get to come home to my best friend. We wake up in the morning and talk about our dreams from the night before (okay, only the weekends for this one – who has time during the week?!). We come home and talk about how our days were and the latest crisis we dealt with at work. We make dinner together, and share in the chores around the house. We celebrate special and quasi-special occasions, but also have days where we don’t do much but just hang out with each other. We make plans with friends and family, and we even get to make plans for our future, together. It’s like our lives aren’t on hold anymore.
I don’t remember clicking my ruby red slippers three times, but I must have. Because there really is no place like home.
Today was absolute perfection. I’m fairly certain I fell in love with fall all over again after work. The sun was shining; the wind was swirling around; the leaves crunched under my shoes; everything just smelled crisp. So I got in my car, opened the sunroof, rolled down the windows, and cranked the stereo for the drive home.
And then, I came home to this:
Honestly, I can’t complain.
Life is good.
I meant to post about the bar exam, awhile ago. But as more time lapses between then and now, I feel less like dwelling on it. Or even thinking about it, really.
To briefly satisfy inquiring minds: it was brutal. I hand-wrote memos, a contract provision, and essays for six solid hours the first day, and answered 200 mind-numbing multiple choice questions the second day. And I have no idea how it went. So, you can see why reliving it wasn’t exactly a top priority.
In a quest to distract myself from the fact that I have to wait until September 13th to find out if I passed, I’ve been staying characteristically busy. There was a bachelorette weekend, starting work full time again, a wedding weekend, a concert and trip to the Iowa State Fair, and just life in general to keep me occupied. In other words, not much has changed since the days of law school in terms of my ridiculous schedule.
Thankfully, I’m now preparing for my first vacation alone with the hubby since our honeymoon ten years ago. I say that I’m thankful for this because I desperately need some time off, away from things, but with him. I need to relax and take a deep breath before truly delving into the rest of our lives. And I need to just be somewhere new, because that travel bug that I have just doesn’t seem to be going away.
And let’s be honest. I need something to further distract me from the never-ending wait for the bar results. Anything will do. In fact, does anyone know anything about temporary, medically induced comas? By the time the next few weeks go by, I just might need one to preserve my sanity.