Before I get into how horrible yesterday’s ordeal was, oh my fucking God! I was right and how terrifying too! As I told Tom, God’s not gonna let him fix this roof. No matter how many hours of work Tom puts himself through, God’s not gonna help him help us. No matter how smart he is or how much he slaves himself to fix this roof, it can’t be stopped. God is just so determined to hold us back in life and to inflict his wrath, fury, hatred, and insensitivity upon us. He just doesn’t care. He doesn’t give a shit at all! No matter how hard we try to get ahead, he just won’t let us.

When the storm began just after I woke up, I was so happy that I could just relax, go about my business as usual, and not have to play Leak and Bucket. Wrong! Dead wrong. The back room is leaking in its usual spot, along with a new spot near it, and there’s water dripping down the crack in the bathroom doorway.

Typical Arizona, too. A warm dry weekend, then it cools down and rains at the start of the week. These are the kinds of storms that go on for hours. It’s not gonna stop till at least 10:00-11:00 and we can never be sure where else it’ll leak. Just because it hasn’t leaked in a certain area, doesn’t mean it won’t later. In fact, I just looked up and noticed a water stain coming through a crack in the plaster above me. I moved into the living room to be where it’s safer, but no place is safe in this house. This house is making me more and more nervous. It’s like it’s possessed. Will God, the devil, or whatever is hexing this house, follow us when we move?

Would God have it leak today anyway, or does it have something to do with yesterday? But yesterday all I did was get some tests. I didn’t do anything to try to change myself. I didn’t go against the way he made me, so what’s the big deal? Is finding out information a sin too? Is that considered rebelling against God? If this has anything to do with me getting tests, then God help us if I did try to change myself. Will things get progressively worse for us if I kept going? Could this have to do with the fact that I’m down to 109 pounds (the craters have gone down a lot too)? Why? Why does God keep doing these kinds of things to us?

I decided to do my puzzles on the vanity table in the music room rather than on the red table I was gonna put back in the living room. I had taken my dolls off of this table (they were covered with plastic bags) and set them up around the house. Since I can’t put them back on the vanity cuz it’s littered with puzzle pieces, I put Summer Dream, Anne, Edie, Rapunzel and Patrice on my bedroom dresser. Then I put a garbage bag over them. Jessica, I don’t care about, so I just left her on the music room floor. I put Bailey in a bag of her own and set her down in the corner of the bedroom.

All I know is that I just want OUT of this fucking house! I don’t know if this shit is compensation for wonderful things to come, or if it’s a curse. It feels more like a curse to me, cuz things would be just wonderful enough if we didn’t have to keep on going through all this shit and keep getting set back with absolutely no help from God whatsoever.

No freeloader shit Sunday. All I saw Sunday evening was that white car with the rack on it and some skinny black lady putting Christmas presents in the trunk. I couldn’t tell for sure if this was Miss Bitch. The hair and face didn’t look right for the bitch, but whoever it was was totally anorexic and it was so obvious that it was a drug-induced skinniness too. So, this car left and then it came back and it appeared that someone was taking presents out of the trunk, but I couldn’t tell for sure. I just hope they stick to tradition and don’t do Christmas here. How can this bitch afford to buy all these gifts anyway? With drug sale money? Anyway, this car left again for the last time, then the cock came and went, and that’s it.

Yesterday was weird, cuz Bill left before the cock came. Why would he leave the kid alone like that?

In a little while, I’ll get into yesterday. It’s only 9:23 now and I hear the rain picking up again, so I’m too nervous to concentrate on writing.

Later…

Thank God! It’s over. It’s brightening up out there and the barometer’s coming up. But what are we gonna do the next time it rains? And the next? And the next? And the next? How much worse will this get with each rainfall, too?

I guess it’ll be a while before Tom comes home, so I’ll get into yesterday’s torture.

Actually, I should start with Sunday night. The people at Genesis are really incompetent and I hope I never have to go back there again. Not only did they tell Vicki I could eat normally up till midnight, which was a lie cuz I had to have just liquids the day before, but they also said in their prep kit instructions that I’ll have “several bowel movements a few hours after drinking the drink.” Wrong! More like “several bouts of diarrhea 5½ hours after drinking the drink, and then again later. Both bouts of diarrhea will be after you’ve gone to bed and will wake you up, too.” I took the drink at 6 PM and was slightly nauseous, but was asleep by 9:30. At 11:30, the pains woke me and I nearly puked and had the runs for about 15 minutes. I fell back asleep till the runs woke me again at 2:30. I was up with that for about a half-hour, then I went back to bed till Tom got me up at 6:45. Then I had to go without my coffee, suffering from my growling, hungry belly, shove a suppository up my ass, and deal with my last bout of the runs 15 minutes later.

First we had to wait forever for the receptionist when we got there, then we had to go upstairs and wait forever too, to the sound of four obnoxious black kids. Those fucking blacks, man, I swear! I don’t know what I hate more, blacks or Hispanics.

This lady, who went back and forth between being sweet and nice to a bitch, eventually took me in and to a dressing room where I had to strip and put my shoes and clothes in a basket, along with my purse. I put a Johnny on with it open in the back and one with it open in the front.

They wouldn’t allow Tom in for either exam due to the radiation.

So I was put on a hard metal table where the girl took some pictures of my kidneys, then left the room. When she came back, she told me that the technician didn’t see how this test was relevant to fertility testing, so they were gonna have me do an ultrasound instead and then I didn’t have to worry about having an IV too. I didn’t realize an IV would be included in this test, but as Tom pointed out, we should’ve known by the name of the test - IVP kidney.

Then I started getting really frustrated. First it was the waiting time, and now the finding out things at the last minute and being told one thing only to find out another, and now I had just gone and got myself sick all night long for nothing! But then she reassured me I didn’t waste my time, cuz the prep kit helps with the HSG.

So, out I go to sit and wait some more. This time, though, I waited in the hall where the exam rooms were, and they let Tom come join me.

The lady called me again saying they couldn’t get a hold of my doctor, and to come with her. I stalled for a minute cuz I was confused. Then she firmly told me, “Come here. I don’t want to discuss this here. Let’s discuss it in the room.”

Back in the room, she told me they were gonna go ahead with the IVP since they couldn’t reach the doctor. All this waiting and getting jerked around was getting to me! Was God trying to tell me something? Was it for losing weight? Anyway, she misfired when trying to get the fucking IV in, so she called in this butch to do it. Even now as a non-smoker, my veins are still small. She couldn’t find a vein in my left arm, so after what took forever, she got an IV in the right arm. Then the lady injected a dye in my veins that was supposed to make the kidneys show up, I guess, and then the IV slipped out. At that point, I was like - forget it. It’s just not meant to be. But she said she had time to take pictures if she hurried. She took pictures and I asked how they were. She said she could see what she needed to see, but then she got all irritated that I would ask her what the scoop was with the kidneys since that’s for the doctor to tell me.

All the while I was with her, there was this screaming baby in a nearby room. Totally obnoxious too, and this thing held things up, I guess, cuz once again, Tom and I had to wait forever between kidney and female exams.

The only funny thing about it was when Tom said that at least they can’t miss when it comes to the female part of it like they did with the IV. No, but it sure didn’t tickle!

I went in with some other lady. It was a big, ugly room with that same hard metal table. Not even a little tiny bit of cushioning for comfort. She told me if I thought it would be bad, it’d be horrible. Well, she was kind of close, cuz it was definitely a little more than just uncomfortable. It was crossing the border into being painful, with quite the cramps! The first part of the exam was like a regular exam, then it turned into a really bad period. The doctor came in and he was friendly, but a little rough for being the male that he was. He kind of poked, pushed, and rubbed a little hard when soaping up my crotch. Then he inserted a speculum and cleaned off the cervix area, which caused some cramping. He put some cream on the cervix that’s supposed to numb that, but I don’t think it did any good, cuz I felt that tube go in that he inserted in my cervix! This numbing stuff also did nothing for the uterus and its cramping. I also thought I was gonna puke at one point too. I couldn’t see much on the monitor. The doctor agreed, unlike that first woman, to tell me his findings.

I didn’t know I’d have to do this, but I had to roll over onto my side for side shots, with my legs spread, my crotch pried open, and the cramps and nausea killing me. Then he took the tube and speculum out of me and they took one last picture of me from behind as I lay on my stomach, then I got dressed and left.

As I was having this done, I realized I could never handle in-vitro. I’d think they’d have to dilate the cervix even more and that that procedure would last longer. Also, they don’t put fluid into the uterus, they poke it with the tools they use to insert the fertilized egg.

Also, when this woman reminded me that this is nothing compared to labor, it reinforced the fact that I could never ever have a kid. If I couldn’t handle a tiny tube in my cervix, I could never handle a baby passing through it, even if the cervix does automatically dilate much more on its own.

I can totally, totally see, like never before, why God sterilized me. I couldn’t handle a child if my life depended on it. It’s like - no wonder he sterilized me! I kind of figured as much all along (along with other reasons), but this really drove it into me.

Anyway, once again, yesterday proved women’s intuition is real. Or at least my vibes are. I always knew deep down in my gut that my fallopian tubes were fine and that it was more likely to be within the uterus and more than likely caused by the DES. It looks like I’m right so far, cuz my kidneys are fine, my tubes weren’t clogged, but I do have a horned uterus. Something that you commonly see in DES people. What was weird, though, was that the doctor told me it’s also found in non-DES people too. I asked him if this automatically meant I couldn’t carry a kid and he said no, but he doesn’t know as much as Dr. Wells does and only she can tell me how severe this is. Even if it was totally irrelevant to conception, there’s always the chance that I don’t ovulate, my eggs are damaged, I have this bacteria in my fluids that kills sperm, or that my hormones are screwy, or that his sperm is fucked, but you know I highly doubt that one. My first guess is that the problem lies within the uterus. My second guess would be my eggs, and my last guess would be hormones. If I don’t hear from the doctor about the tests by Friday, I’ll call her.

In the end, though, no matter what is or isn’t wrong with me, and no matter what I feel about it, I know I’ll never have a kid. Not with a husband that cums so rarely and certainly not with God making sure this never happens. Some would ask if I felt that the reason I never conceived is due to how little Tom cums, but no. I never would have or will conceive no matter if he cums a little or a lot.

Although Tom couldn’t find much online about horned uteruses (he hasn’t done a very extensive search yet either, he says) he read up on hormone problems, a fertility clinic in Phoenix that covers diagnostics, but not treatments, and how misshapen uteruses can be surgically corrected. The idea of having surgery is less scary to me than having anything done while I’m awake. That’s for sure! That was really sweet of him to do this research, though.

Another thing he said he read was that they suggest taking Ibuprofen a couple of hours before the HSG test to ward off the cramps. That just goes to show how incompetent these fucks at Genesis are. There were others that were upset with them too, Tom said. He overheard people upset over their technicians questioning the tests that were ordered and how they wanted to bitch to the supervisor about it. I agree with Tom when he said that these fucking technicians shouldn’t question doctor’s orders like they did with me. They should just do what they’re told to do, but I guess some people like to challenge and argue with others.

I called and told Tammy about yesterday, and I sent an email to Evie and Marla. Marla will relay the news to Linda, I guess. I typed it up in Kim’s next letter. I’m adding on bit by bit and when I think there’s enough there, I’ll print it out for her.

I really hit the food after my grueling ordeal. Got a burger and a slice of cheesecake, had a TV dinner, and even some popcorn. Had some fries and another slice of cheesecake today too, and poor Tom, who didn’t want to eat out again today too (the roof fucked our plans up as usual), got something. I felt really bad and felt like a half-assed wife for not cooking more often, but he said he’s the one who does the grocery shopping. It’s his fault he didn’t get anything, but it’s just that he’s been so preoccupied with the roof. Yeah, our whole lives are that roof! That fucking mother-fucking roof!! Godfuckingdamn this roof to hell!!

He was going to go to the grocery store after work, then come home and take me to a few stores for those nails I wrote about, and for scissors, the rebate, and the ramps to the cage.

Thanks to this fucking roof that always delays things and sets us back just when it looks like we’re gonna finally get ahead and be able to move on to other things (although I told him I vibed that this roof is unfixable for him), he came straight home and went up in the attic. He feels that these leaks came through from where the cooler and AC connect to the house. He feels that the stuff he put around these openings to seal it from rain, didn’t have time to dry, so we went and got this stuff today that says you can apply it even if it’s raining.

It won’t work. Nothing will stop this leaking. I don’t know if this house is possessed by some evil spirit, if it’s God, the devil, or what, but it ain’t going away. We’re cursed with it in this house, and God only knows if the problem will follow us when we move. Or take on some other form. Meaning, maybe when we have the nicer, newer house, he’ll give us health problems for it.

I just hope that the roof shit doesn’t get worse due to the testing. Or cuz of the weight loss. I also wonder if the return of Caddy Kid means anything. I know he comes and goes, but the fact that he came at this time, makes me wonder. Maybe I’m just paranoid. I hope so. Better to be paranoid and worry for nothing, than to worry for a reason.

We had yet another new problem with this old fucked up house, but Tom took care of it in a few minutes. As you know, we only have a few doors here that open and close normally, so we didn’t need to find the bathroom door sticking all of a sudden since we had enough going on. Guess our kick-ass heater expanded the wood, but he sanded it down really well.

Anyway, you know me. I’ll go from 109 pounds to 115 pounds or higher if I eat any more than 800-1200 calories a day, so it’s back to my usual diet plan.

I guess we’ll be going out tomorrow to Walgreens and Staples to get the stuff we want, although I don’t think we’ll be getting the ramps. The stores I called didn’t have them, and Tom had trouble connecting to their site on AOL, so who knows when we’ll get that? I’m talking about ramps, in case I didn’t mention it, to make it easier for the rats to use the top two floors of their cage. They won’t go up there at this point cuz of the straight tube.

I had Mickey out today. I held him a bit and let him run around on the bed.

Today I hemmed a pair of pants, did some laundry, the dishes, changed the bed, and did other odds and ends around the house.

My shows are on tonight. The Medical Detectives and The FBI Case Files.

Later…

As long as Tom continues to be the supportive person he’s been, and as long as he’s OK with going “all the way,” so to speak, I’d like to take care of unfinished business and keep going with this fertility stuff unless something out of my control comes up to stop me. He said we have an agreement, he’ll still cum regularly, and he’ll be honest about it, but I know better. Still, I need to keep on going till the end, whatever and wherever the end may be. I’m kind of going to go into this as if I want a kid and not just information. That way, if I change my mind in five years (as long as he’s willing to cum and have the kid) I can have one if I can be fixed and if God will let me and turn me into quite the toughie that I’m not, but like I said, none of this is gonna happen. I don’t see it, but fortunately, I’m still OK with it. I look forward to life and freedom unless something ever did happen to change that and if it did, I’d just try to deal with it as best I could. Meanwhile, even though I awoke glad I went through the HSG as tough as it was, I’m not finished yet and if not myself alone, then destiny too, is pushing me onward still till I’m done. Tom understands this feeling of unfinished business. Especially without hearing what the doctor has to say about all this.