Bring on Petri!

Got "the call" this afternoon. We are ready to go lay some eggs - I mean, retrieve - Saturday at 8am. Honestly, I can't quite believe it all happened so fast. Apparently my ovaries really really liked Menopur, Ganirelix and Gonal-F because I am 2 days ahead of schedule. Who knew?

Well, my ovaries may have liked it, but the rest of my body hasn't been a huge fan. Especially the last 2 days. I feel pretty rotten to be honest. Lots of headaches, stomach aches and all sorts of other pleasant things. I get hungry, but then I am so bloated that I feel like I can't eat a ton. And when I can't eat, I get cranky! Just ask Matt.

I will say I feel pretty lucky though. All my doctor's appointments went so smoothly and everything looks GREAT. I haven't gained any weight yet like I had feared, nor did my skin break out like crazy. I did however, have an unsightly pooch pop up on my tummy last night after my last round of shots. It almost looks like a little pregger belly, which both makes me happy and messes with my mind cause I know it's just a whole lot of eggies in there and not an actual baby.

Hopefully soon there will be.

(Oh, and in case you were wondering - "Petri" is what we call the potential baby right now. It came from one goofy staff meeting where my boss was trying to understand what was going on and I told him that my baby was going to be made in a petri dish like a biology experiment and somehow we just coined the phrase "Petri". So, this morning at staff meeting, there was "Prayer for Petri". He is going to baptize that child and call him/her Petri, I just know it. It won't matter if we have the best, most super cool name - he will always be Petri in my pastor's heart.)

Tonight we trigger at 8:30pm sharp and Matt has the pleasure of giving me my first shot in the ass. I am sure he can't wait to get home and do that. He was shown last week how and where to do it so I think he feels prepared. Plus, he keeps grabbing my butt and when I ask why - he just says with this really innocent look on his face, "Just making sure I know where the shot needs to go. I don't want to forget."

Ummm yeah. He's just trying to cop a feel. I feel so cheap. ha.

So here are some stats. I don't understand them all but according to my doctor and nurse, they could not have been more pleased with the way the cycle progressed. Picture perfect or something.

My estrogen levels started at 37 (I don't know what measurement they use).

Today, they were at 2347.

I'm lucky I am not a huge puddle of tears on the floor right now.

Baseline ultrasound last Weds (9.30), I had b/w 8-9 follicles on my left and 9-10 on my right.

Today (10.8), I had 8 measurable on my right (5 big and 3 smaller) and 5 HUGE ones on my left. Honestly, I think the main reason they decided not to push it another day is b/c my left side is so big. They probably could have waited another day to give my right smaller ones time to pop up some more but then my left ones could have gotten too big. It's a balancing act. Is anyone surprised that I am unbalanced as usual? I'm not.

Emotional Stats:

Surprisingly, I have had very few meltdowns. I cried yesterday on my way to my doctor's appointment b/c a song came on KSBJ that just touched me. I received an email from an old friend just saying hi and I started crying at that. I found out that another childhood friend of mine had a baby recently - and that hers was an invitro miracle. So I cried again.

But other than that, pretty stable. No blow-outs to speak of with the hubby and I think he has been somewhat shocked that there have been less tears than anticipated. He stocked up on Kleenex this week just in case but alas, there has been no need.

I feel pretty good about Saturday. We've done the best we can. I gave my shots as I've been supposed to. I've been probed with a wand more times than I care to admit. I've taken my vitamins and folic acid. I've tried to take care of my body. I've just simply done my best.

Now, it's the doctor's turn. Time for him to do his job and make some babies.

And ultimately, it's God's turn - this is all in His trusty hands. I turn it all over to Him. Let His Will be done.

Thank you all for your prayers and sweet emails. Will update you after retrieval when we find out how many hatched and how many fertilized. Oh, in case you were wondering - I have requested a new charge nurse for Saturday :) See Eleanor.

In His mighty grip,

Matty Turns 30!!!

Please forgive me - there is an actual post underneath this - but I don't have the patience or the energy to put these pics in actual order. So just use your imagination :)

Matt with his Birthday "Tray" from Perry's Steakhouse. He did not leave behind a morsel.

Matt & I celebrating his 30th and my mom's XXth. :)

Mother and daughter

Blowing out the candles. I don't know why I felt inclined to help him with that one little flame.

Gig 'Em Ags! Our neighbor Ryan (former student '99) and friend Greg (former student '98)

Some of my girls! Our neighbor Kim, me, Kendra, and Nathalie

The spread. We thought we had a lot of food but we barely had leftovers!

Matt & I with the cake. That thing was h.e.a.v.y. It probably had 10lbs of fondant on it. But it sure was cute :)

Mommy & daughter again. She's so cute.


Couldn't resist picking up these plates. My mom actually gave me the napkins a couple of years ago and I have been waiting for the right occasion - and then I found the plates at Swoozies, my little party heaven on earth.

So in the midst of all the fertility "stuff", my wonderful husband turned the big 3-0!!! We usually don't make a big deal out of birthdays anymore --- usually just enjoy a nice dinner out and maybe an exchange of a gift or 2 (mostly clothes for both of us - and Matt usually does a heck of a job of picking out cute ones for me - go figure! But he plays it safe - Ann Taylor Loft or White House/Black Mkt - he knows it's hard to go wrong there!)

However, thirty is a BIG birthday - or I think so at least. Matt probably would have been happy enough with a steak dinner and a quiet night at home, but nooooo...I had other plans.

I have a newfound obsession with etsy.com and have bought many a baby gift on there recently. One sleepless night I was searching for invitations for Matt and decided to try my luck. And wouldn't you know - I found the perfect thing!

It's a stadium ticket down to every last detail - of course, I just had to track down a picture of Matt from his football playing days with the sweetest chili bowl haircut that you could sport as a freshman (circa 1993-94, I think?). Thank you, Emily, Rich, and Barbara for helping me with this!!! Sorry the scan is a little small - but you get the picture. (no pun intended)

Anyway, I found a woman who could make a cake like a champ and imitate the invitation perfectly. It tasted as good as it looked! So the whole theme was around football - which came in handy because we usually throw at least a couple of football watching parties each year. Selfishly, all I had to purchase were some plates and napkins and the rest of the stuff was ready to go.

The party was a success in my book. I felt crummy that whole day - but after a 2 hour nap was able to rally not only to route my Tigers onto victory but also socialize for a few hours.

Man, our parties certainly have changed. Not that we were ever big into partying, but we will call this a relatively tame party. Just good friends, good food, good times. We went through way more water and diet cokes than beer and vodka. That's a good thing because the days of hangovers are far behind us. And thank goodness my mother came in town to help out and celebrate with us - she was a lifesaver to me! And I think she had a pretty good time, too :) The woman has never met a stranger and I think became best friends with all of our friends at the party.

Speaking of birthdays, it was her birthday as well on that Friday the 2nd. It has become our tradition for Matt and Mommy to celebrate their birthdays together and it is so cute. I love spending time with both of them on their special days. The three of us went out for our "nice" dinner on Friday night and had a fabulous time as always - and much to my jealousy, were served incredible "Happy Birthday" dessert trays compliments of the chef. Mom and I kind of dabbled in hers but poor Matt ate every last bite. He still was full at 10am the next morning.

Pace yourself, baby - metabolism doesn't last forever! Or maybe for him it does. Because no matter what that kid, ummm I mean, "man" eats, it never shows. I find it disturbing and intriguing. And again, I am jealous.

Happy Birthday, babe! Hope you enjoyed everything. You deserved all of that and more. You are my heart and I can't wait to celebrate every single last birthday with you. Praying praying praying that the retrieval isn't on Saturday so you can enjoy a "guy's day" at the A&M vs Okie State game with Adam - far away from your hormonal and swollen wife. Love you!!!

An Unexpected Twist to Church Services

I passed out cold at church today. Awesome. For those who have weak stomachs, you may want to just move on from this post and go visit people.com or something. But apparently the meds are getting the best of me. I have been fighting migraines for a few days now ever since I started the meds. They seem to hit around 9am -10amish and last until 4:00ish and then I rally like a warrior.

This morning we had a new and unexpected twist. I woke up, felt great after having slept from about 11:00pm after the party until about 7:45. In fact, I was sleeping so soundly that my alarmed blared about 4x before Matt came in and told me to get up. Apparently I was having a dream that I was back working at hell.on.earth. (I mean, the bank) and my clients were trying to get in touch with me and my phone kept ringing and ringing and I was so agitated in my dream. Well, obviously that was the alarm.

Anyway, woke up, felt good, ate breakfast, walked to throw away the remnants and puked right in the sink. 5 times. No more breakfast.

After that, I felt decent, so I went to go shower for church and get ready - in the midst of my getting ready, I started feeling yucky and hungry so I ate some toast and all was ok except for a horrible pain on my left side (which now I attribute to swelling of my left ovary).

Got to church relatively on time. Actually got to sit with my husband for the first time in 6 months (he runs the projector and AV equipment during service, so I am usually a "church widow"). Last thing I remember is singing and closing my eyes to "Sweet sweet song", grabbing Matt's hand, and then apparently passed out cold to my left (where he was, thank goodness) - he caught most of the fall, but I still have a lovely lump on the back of my head.

Diagnosis per nurse: meds are now fully in my system. Known to cause nausea (duh!), headaches and the like. Combo little food in my system, to the concentration of meds, to the fact that the church AC was out - bam, Meagan out cold.

Feeling better now. Took a 4 hour nap & was able to keep down dinner. So far. Victory.

Now I am going to go inject myself again. She gave me the option if I felt like it to skip the meds tonight. Ummmm, no thanks. Let's get through this last 6 days or so (prayerfully) as quickly as possible. If I have to puke and pass out, then I am going to do it. No waiting. We have waited long enough.

Did I mention is was Matt's birthday today? On his birthday, he had to hoist his wife and carry me out of church, probably with my granny panties hanging out my jeans - spend the day making sure I was ok. Me...Wife of the Year award, seriously.

Although I think I slightly redeemed myself with his favorite meatloaf and mashed potato dinner. Hopefully.

Happy 30th Birthday, baby. Hopefully, we can make you a Daddy at 30.

In His Hands,

In a funk...

I've been sitting here at my computer incessantly checking email and facebook status updates and going to the occasional foray to the "dark side" (ie: people.com) trying to decide if I was actually going to write this post.

My hesitations?

I don't want to post every day and moan and groan about the cards that I have been dealt to me. It's not productive for me, it's not real entertaining to my readers - all 5 of them, and most importantly it's not incredibly condusive to growing deeper in my relationship with Christ with the whole "woe is me" thing.

But the fact remains.

This sucks.

I wouldn't choose it for anyone.

I am overwhelmed.

I know I can do it, that we can do it & that God is holding my hand the entire way - and that is only reason I am doing this.

What I wouldn't give sometimes to wave my magic wand, make this all go away, and one romantic night, turn down the lights, have some candles lit and turn to Matt and say "Let's make a baby". Isn't that how we all dream of it being?

Instead, I flip on the brightest lights I can see, measure out meds (which btw were injected correctly (I think) this evening), and poke myself while poor Matt is stuck on the sidelines. Not at all I had envisioned for the making of our first child. Far from it.

And there are no candles.

On 2nd thought - maybe I will break out the candles tomorrow night - throw a little ambience into the moment. hmmm not a bad idea --- see there's a bright side in there somewhere!!

Last week, I almost considered pulling the plug on these infertility blog posts for several reasons.

One being, does anyone really want to read my stupid stories on double injections? (although a couple of people were quite entertained by that apparently).

What purpose is this serving? What if it doesn't work and then I have to tell my bloggy world, lurkers and all, that no, it didn't work - is it going to make it more difficult to deal with?

But here's the bottom line: ever since I began posting and talking about my infertility battle, God has brought so many people into my life who have since shared their struggles with me. And these are people I know from the "real world" - who have been so gracious to share their stories with me, lend their support, and their advice with me. Without blogging and being open, I never would have known and would have felt even more alone.

And talking it out - well, I am just a talker about this sort of stuff. That's just me. And my writing is an extension of that. So selfishly this is an extension of all of those feelings and it has been incredibly cathartic for me personally, even if no one read it at all.

So I will continue posting. Not every day. But this is a journey and I want to document it, the good stuff, the bad stuff and the just plain ugly. It's a part of Matt and I's story and this is how I choose to share it.

Plus I figure, if it works and we have an onry 13 year old teenage girl who's giving me and her Daddy fits, I will direct her to this blog ---- and show her --- this is how much Mommy & Daddy wanted you. We loved you even when you were just injections in the belly. This was all for you.

And if that isn't an impactful guilt trip for a 13 year old, then I don't know what is ;)

D-Day

Well, today was "The Day". The day to confirm that I could start my injections and all the fun stuff that follows (like 5-10 extra lbs I'm told). I went this morning, and I am not kidding you, I was shaking like a leaf. I can talk in front of people with little or no problem, used to advise people on their financial difficulties, and have plain just experienced a lot in the last few years. But this had me completely on edge.

Anyway, I made my way to the appointment and the actual appointment could not have gone better. We started with the bloodwork and then the baseline ultrasound - which showed approximately 8-9 follicles on my left ovary and 9-10 on my right ovary (The follicles are where the hopefully mature eggs are going to come from). They are always hestitant to give averages - but I hear this was pretty good and my nurse said everything looked "GREAT". So I felt GREAT.

Then onto med injection lessons.

Wow.

I certainly don't think I am the brightest star in the sky but I'm not a complete moron. This kind of made me feel like a moron. I asked a bazillion and one questions but luckily my nurse was more than happy (well, she may feel differently) to spend a quality hour reviewing this stuff with me. So I received my tenative schedule for all the meds - it's kind of mindblowing and if I ever figure out how to post it up here, I will.

So I left there feeling completely confident, "I can do all" - women-power kind of thing.

Came home, was still on a fertility high I guess, emailed and called all my folks who give a darn.

Cooked dinner, had a glass of wine. All was looking well. But the injections were staring me in the face.

The Meds. For today.

It was time.

I had Matt go get me yogurt to celebrate the occasion because any medical crisis should involve ice cream. I sprung for the cookies n cream. (which I have not eaten by the way, b/c I am writing this - but it will be eaten and soon)

Pre-shot excitement - whoo hoo - we have our own bio hazard box!

So while he was getting yogie, I started setting up my "area". Cotton swabs, needles, pluggie things, powders, fluids, and who knows what.

At last minute, I decided to change from the original recommendation of putting them both together and only having one injection to doing them separately. I just got too stressed to have to mix all that stuff and was having massive brain freezes like I had in history 3001 classes in college.

First shot up - Menopur. Small needle. I like that. Mixed the powder (the expensive stuff) and the sodium stuff (not expensive) - done. I'm a champ. Insert needle, pull back on syringe, grab belly and push. ummm pushed maybe a little too hard b/c some dripped on the floor. Yikes, mistake #1.

Push it aside, we gotta another one to go.

2nd one - Gonal F. It's a handy syringe that is pre-filled. Well, seems handy until you can't actually tell if the liquid is released into your body BECAUSE IT PRE-FILLS BACK UP. nice.

Pretty sure I double injected that one.

Prompt panic call to the on-call nurse who immediately dispatches me to my nurse. OOOps sorry Vanessa - didn't mean to ruin your evening, but I'm pretty sure I just double-dosed myself. She had me run through what I did exactly and then her diagnosis came. "Yup, you double dosed"

But then the good news. She would rather me double dose than not have a dose. And thank God for them checking levels all.the.time. This stuff can totally be adjusted. Freak out panic attack semi over.

After my double-dose and triple stick. Awesome.


Now I am ready for bed. I've cried 3 times today. I'm pretty sure it's not hormone related but I'm going to go ahead and blame it on a pre-hormone related syndrome. Sounds good to me.

For your viewing pleasure and for my posterity, I have uploaded pictures of the last days I will have a semi flattish belly. I kid you not, when Matt took this picture, he was like "quit sucking in!!".

Pre-Belly shot (and the last time I will post a flat belly shot on the web)



"Umm, why would I if it's going to be posted on the world wide web. I will suck in and suck in and suck in until there is no air left in my body."

So Day 1 Wrap-Up - a success and a sorta failure. Tomorrow will be better. I have been assured though that I have not caused any irreparable harm. However, if I don't get pregnant, you know this day will probably haunt me - what if?... ok, no more negative thoughts - lots more shots to look forward to! And one more night to enjoy a semi-flat, yet slightly bruised belly!


In His Mighty Hands,

Meagan

Fear. Fear Not. Clean.

So the impending injection date draws ever so near (This Weds - yikes!!!!!). And as it grows closer, I get a little more nervous with every passing hour. It's not the needles that bother me, thank God. With all of my previous surgeries/ER visits/drs appts - I am not afraid of needles or even fearful of injecting myself. That stuff just doesn't bother me.

What bothers me is what all of the needle pokes actually mean.

It is the first real chance that Matt & I have to conceive - and I am so scared.

What if I haven't done enough to prepare?

Have I read enough?

Have I researched enough?

Have I gotten my body in the best possible shape to deal with this "stuff"?

And more importantly, have I emotionally prepared myself enough for this roller coaster?

I don't know.

I don't know that you are ever ready for children.

In fact, I am pretty sure you never really are.

But here we are. We have a potential time table and if it works, a due date to look forward to. And be scared of just the same.

This isn't really like me - the whole "scared" thing. Generally speaking, when I decide I am going to do something big, then consequences be damned - and I go with it full speed ahead and usually just fly through it. This feels different. Maybe because it affects way more than just me.

It will affect my husband, my family, my friends who have followed me on this journey. And I don't want to be sad. And I don't want them to be sad either.

But I have to keep going back to where I started - that I believe God has paved the way for this to happen for us - positive or negative result (pun intended). There is a reason. Of that I am confident and 100% sure. Doesn't mean that I can't be scared I guess. :)

However, one of my friends shared with me that in the Bible, God says "Fear not" 365 times exactly. One for each day of the year. He's got us covered every single day. If that can't bring me some measure of comfort, I don't know what will.

On a slightly different but somewhat related note ---what happens when a girl has a lot of nervous energy, tons of thoughts running through her crazy brain?

She decides to clean out the closet.

This was harder than just deciding what doesn't fit anymore or what I don't like. I felt some pressure to hold onto some of my "larger" clothes because they may (hopefully) be needed soon. There isn't a huge assortment of these items in my closet now but enough to make me stop & think before I tossed it in the goodwill bag. Mostly jeans and stuff - which happen to take up the most room space-wise, unfortunately.

I really didn't realize how much weight I gained post-Hurricane and with the subsequent move to Houston - until I found some old pictures on i-photo this past weekend and was kind of fascinated how I could grow like that. Weird to look back and think at the time I didn't realize it. Or I guess care really care about it. But before you say anything --- I am not talking a huge amount of weight and I don't have a complex about it (ok,well, maybe a little, teensy, eensy one)--- but enough weight for me to see a dramatic difference in before and after. I guess grief does weird things to people. Some people don't eat after traumatic events. I apparently join the group that partcipates in the overreating and spinach & artichoke dip appetizer indulging. Plus, I am only 5'3 and every little pound shows up. If I was 5'10, then it wouldn't really matter as much.

Oh geez, I can't tell a lie. I'm like 5'1 on a good day with a slight heel.

Anyway, I was able to get through enough "stuff" to fill up 2 massive suitcases of clothes and shoes. I think what I found most pathetic, besides the number of clothes I have only worn a time or two (or the "few" that I have not worn at all - yes, Matt, I am admitting it to the world!) - is the fact that my daily uniform is some variation on Target pj pants, scrub tops, tshirts and athletic shorts. My "dressing up" days are limited to one or two weekend nights & church. And even for church I sometimes only manage to pull on a church tshirt & jeans. Pretty sad. I have cute clothes I guess - just nowhere to wear them. I found out quickly that the dog could care less if I am dressed to the nines or not.

I am currently awaiting a call from "What Not to Wear". However, they would have trouble catching the daytime footage of me since I rarely leave the house except to check the mail. I can only imagine my impressive array of tshirts and cotton pjs will only grow as I do (prayerfully). And then I will really be ready for Stacy & Clinton. I can already see them pitching my thousands of tshirts into a massive garbage can and exclaiming that no self-respecting woman should be caught dead in this many variations of Champion workout clothes. Especially if you haven't actually worked out in days.

Anyway, so the closet is done. Next up, the drawers. Oh, the joy. And besides the "Great Clean-out of '09" assisting with my nerves, I guess I am just expecting the worst when these hormones start coursing through my veins. I am preparing to feel fat, gross and tired - and not much for clean out madness. I started having a mini panic attack thinking of the other guest bedroom clothes full of boxes and clothes that have haphazardly been stored away. If we do get preggers, I have some major work ahead of me to make room for baby. I know, we are talking about something that is 10-11 months away - but that is so me - start worrying about something that hasn't even happened. Nice, Meg.

In other random news - tonight I have my first knitting lesson (in an effort to become more balanced & find a more respectable hobby than watching tv or playing on facebook). Our first project? You guessed it... a baby hat. Apparently, that's one of the easier things to learn. So if invitro doesn't work, someone has an adorable baby hat coming to them. Or maybe I'll just Goodwill it along with everything else.

Happy Monday, y'all :)

Relief!!!

Well, I have to admit I was getting worried. In both of the last 2 posts, I promised my entire mass of 2 readers an infertility-free blog post.

So I sat and waited. And did some thinking. And waited some more. I had nuthin'. Zero. Not that my whole life has been consumed by this invitro crud --- well, actually it kind of has. But I just can't say there's been a whole lot of remarkable things happening in the Clanahan household. Nothing really blog worthy at least. The past week truly has been crammed full of work, meetings, carnivals, driving, driving some more, more night meetings, sleep and more work.

The past 2 days I actually have been so busy for work that I haven't made it to the shower before 5:00pm. Well, I don't know if I can blame that on work as much as I can just plain laziness - but still. Pretty sad. My goal now is to be showered with hair partially dry by the time Matt gets home just so he doesn't know that I hang out in my Target finest loungewear all day.

Not that I am lounging. Because I am sooooo not. I just stare at a computer monitor all day, answer emails and attempt to write clever newsletters and bulletin items.

I would like to take this moment to clear up a few misconceptions of people who work from home though.

Just because I work from home does NOT mean that I am responsible for keeping a sparkling house. I work 8-10 hour days and that does not include time for laundry folding.

I'm just saying. No one's said anything to me - yet - but I sometimes see that questioning look in my sweet husband's tired eyes when he comes home and the dishwasher has yet to be unloaded and there are clothes strewn about. I tell him to pretend I was at an office all day b/c all be darned if I am going to feel guilty for working full-time from home and not cleaning during my work hours.

Ok, now that I've gotten that off my chest -- I finally do have some blog fodder to write about. I should have known all it would take was a trip to Wal Mart at 7am. Yes, in the morning. Because I am a huge procrastinator.

I volunteered to cook a meal for a family at church this week. I agreed to do this Sunday so I have had more than ample time to get my rear to the grocery store. However, it was POURING on Monday & Tuesday afternoon - and while Wal Mart is bad at 5:30pm on just a regular afternoon, throw a little mini-hurricane in there, and it's just downright miserable.

So in order to not subject my freshly washed hair to the perils of Wally World yesterday (does it really make sense by the way to shower & clean up prior to going to Wal Mart??? I'm just going to let you think about that one for a second), I decided to head out at 7am today.

Why so early? Well, because I happen to be expecting a very important package filled with 16 different medications and types of syringes/needles/patches/etc today.

Fed Ex said they would deliver between 8am and 3pm.

And I have to be here to sign for it (not that I would want them to leave that box 'o preciousness on my doorstep)

Who wants to bet that they will arrive at 2:59pm and 59 seconds?

So, off I headed this morning with my little print out of 2 Paula Deen recipes, one for a chicken casserole and one for taco soup.

Cause I don't know if you heard, but H-town had a little cold front move through here and the high is only supposed to be like 78 today. I felt that little bit of cool breeze and decided to break out the winter recipes. I mean, who doesn't want to sweat over a bowl of steaming taco soup when you aren't feeling well??

Only 10 more degrees cooler and I get to dust off my Uggs and Matt will be eating sweet potatoes and stuffing for the next 4 months (b/c that's what I serve as soon as just the tiniest bit of fall hits our humidity-laden town - if you wait for it to be 35 degrees outside...well, you will never eat "fall food" here)

So back to Paula. While I am entertained by her on tv and was really excited to see her restaurant in Savannah, I very rarely cook her recipes. I mean, they all look and sound delicious but they are to be saved for special occasions and days where you don't care that you are eating a pound of butter. Not for everyday meals. I've become pretty skilled over the years learning how to substitute lowerfat ingredients for the full-fat variety but even I don't have the skills to mess with her recipes.

But for a family that needs some meals - Paula Deen is just the answer.

I was pleasantly surprised when I pulled up at the Wal Mart and the parking lot was almost barren. I obviously hit them on shift change because just as I was walking in about 4 or 5 red-eyed employees were stumbling out, shoving cigarettes into their mouths as fast as humanly possible.

Nothing like starting my grocery shopping with walking through a plume of smoke into the "fresh" produce aisle. Yummy.

So I made my way through Wal Mart picking up the various assortment of ingredients I needed. Because it was a taco soup and a casserole, I spent the majority of my time on the canned tomato aisle. Good lord. All I can say is thank goodness I had time to scan the shelves without people running me over with their carts because Paula sure likes her canned tomatoes. In all different varieties.

I started to get a little stressed because I couldn't find the precise can of Petite diced tomatoes with green chilies and was trying to make up my mind whether I could subsitute a couple of cans of Rotel, because really isn't that pretty close to the same thing? As the stress sweat was slowly dripping down my face (remember, I had to be back home for the 8am delivery - just in case Fed Ex decided to get their act together and hit my house first. Wishful thinking but I could just so see me racing back to my neighborhood and passing the Fed Ex truck on the way out and me chasing him down, blowing on my horn, begging for him to bring back my $3000 medications.)

Anyway, boo -yah - found it! (It's a Hunt's variety in case anyone was wondering... "Great Value" - Wal Mart's generic brand does NOT make it. They need to get into the game)

So, I made it through the rest of my shopping pretty uneventfully. But I will say that I was truly expecting someone to ask me if I was planning on dropping off some donations to the Fort Bend Food Pantry or something. I literally had about a dozen cans overflowing in my cart.

And praise the Lord, it was only 7:30am. Plenty of time to check out. Head for the check out counters. Wouldn't you know...."shift change" apparently wasn't so much a change as it was a full on departure.

Because there was only 1 checker IN THE ENTIRE WAL MART. Oh, save for the express lane, wayyyyy at the other end - and because of Paula and her 3 dozen can taco soup, I obviously didn't qualify.

But before I could get too worked up, the 2 people in line ahead of me finished up rather quickly and then halleliuah, it was my turn!

I was just completing the unloading of my can-laden cart when I noticed the gentleman behind me holding only a bouquet of flowers and nothing else. I took a quick scan of the 30 or so items I had laid out, glanced at my watch again, and took pity on the man.

"Sir, would you like to go ahead of me?" followed by some lame joke that I either don't remember or don't want to recall here.

He mumbled something (and let me tell you it wasn't like a gracious thank you or anything) and charged ahead of me. The lady rang up his $5.99 bundle of tulips and he paid and was on his way. Now I know it wasn't an earth-shattering favor, but the fact remains I could have made him wait the 8 minutes it was going to take me to check out and I wouldn't have been wrong to do so.

I gots places to be, too, Mister.

But I let him go ahead of me. Do you know that man never looked back, never said a word, nary a thank you, nod, or glance??!! Quite honestly, I was flabbergasted. Whenever someone does that for me, I always say thank you at the very least. My momma taught me some manners. And some grammar.

No wonder he was buying flowers. At first when I saw him, I thought "How wonderful, he's buying flowers to take up to his wife's office" or something equally sugary sweet with a gag me reflex.

However, now I am quite sure that angry little man was probably just as rude to his signficant other as he was to me and was being forced to bring home flowers just so he could get in the door tonight and get a little dinner and a spot on the couch.

So after the ALM (angry little man) left, I like an idiot, glanced back again and saw another woman waiting behind me, this time with 2 items, nail polish remover and Ajax or something. Quite the combo - and who can just walk into Wal Mart and buy 1 or 2 things anyway?

Not me. There's always some special treats I just must pick up - honey flavored pretzels? Don't mind if I do.

2 for 1 liquid soaps? Yes, please!

So, after taking stock of her items and looking again at mine, I was railroaded with a critical decision to make. Do I let her go ahead of me and risk being even later or get my stuff checked out already???

After the quite yucky response I received from the ALM, and my conscious be darned, I decided it was MY turn instead. Sorry, lady. You're just going to have to wait. Fed Ex won't wait for me.

The lovely Wal Mart lady got me checked out in record time - we were quite the team, throwing cans in bags (she even double-bagged!! How thoughtful!) and tossing them in the cart. Then I went to my wallet to pay.

No debit card.

WTH.

Not 3 weeks ago I made some sort of snotty comment on facebook about people who write checks and they need to come into the 21st century of debit cards and quit holding up important people like me because they can't get with the program. It was met with varying degrees of "Amen, sister" to the one I won't forget, "Give them a break, Meagan. Maybe they left their debit card at home like I did today." At the time, I was all high and mighty-like "who leaves their debit card at home when they are going grocery shopping.?"

And now I know. People like me. Who play on the computer late at night and purchase things on etsy. (like the 17th baby gift I have bought this year for a friend). And then it's late and they are lazy, so they don't carry their debit card back to their wallet, and make the all-important "mental note" to return it to it's proper home first thing the next morning. So didn't happen.

I was that person today. That held up the line at Wal Mart. I totally should have let that lady go in front of me. Thank you, God, as always for humbling me.

Now, it's back to my cooking. I need a new can opener by the way.

And I'll be darned - there was the doorbell. Fed Ex is here!!!! And it's only 9:29am. The tides, they are a changin'. It may be my day after all.