Toilet Troubles

Friday morning the toilet was running – that valve inside the tank wouldn’t lift all the way up, so it instead kept filling and draining continuously. This had been going on for a while. While the toilet reigns from Japan (where apparently, they do toilets very well), I suppose all good things come to an end. A repair was required.

So off my Dad goes to the hardware shop. He returns with a ‘one size fits all’ toilet valve thing. “I don’t think this will work” he asserts. “We’ve got a Toto, and I don’t think this will work.” But nevertheless he takes apart the Toto valve and tried to install the new part.

It didn’t work.

So then he goes back to the store and instead of returning the generic ‘one size fits all’ valve, he instead picks up the Toto brand in addition to the generic he already has, and come back.

But then he needs a special sort of wrench, so run back to the shop.

He returns, ready to tackle the toilet. As he fixes the main hall Toto, he then decides to also refit another toilet (not a Toto) with the generic valve. And what follows is a journey of leaking pipes, second opinions, and nearly buying an entirely new toilets.

But he persevered, and about three hours later everything was running fine, all drips and leaks contained. 🙂 (Whooohoo!)

Sometimes you think you’re dealing with a sticky valve, and wind up tackling an entire home renovation.  Which is kinda the journey we’ve taken ever since coming back to Canada.

The great news is that my freelance writing is going well, and Zsolt is doing some consulting for a patent agency. He thinks it’s an interesting field, so that’s very promising. Apparently it can take about 3-5 years to become a patent agent – but first you need to get hired as a trainee within a firm. (If you know any patent agency looking for a trainee to join their team, do let us know.) Consulting doesn’t count toward the patent agent exams, so far as I know, but it’s a step in the right direction in terms of experience.

Anyhow – I haven’t written very much on my blogs lately, largely because my mind has been all wrapped up and absorbed in ‘making it’ here. And like I said once before, I don’t generally write about a subject if it involves another person’s problem. Zsolt and I are a super-duper team, but that also means his problema are my problem, and my problems are his problem.

So the toilets need fixing, and it’s taking much longer than expected. However, I remain 100% optimistic that everything will turn out well. In the meantime we plan to move out very, very soon (to the relief of my parents, I’m sure) so that in itself will be a great adventure.

And of course there’s that oncologist appointment at the end of this month. I get these occasional pinging feelings in my breast that worry me, though I think they’re related to my cycle and hormones, but nevertheless I seem to be at my “pre-scan” stage where my worries begin to escalate. Dr Canada wants me to get a mammogram . . . I’d much rather have an ultra sound. We’ll see what happens.

And so we keep on keeping on. Life as of late seems full of transition. Transition is great and variety is fun, but my goodness, I’m hankering for some stationary living. Unpacking those boxes we’ve had stored in the basement, buying a welcome rug, feeling really truly within my own home. They’re coming. They are coming. It’s just taking a wee bit longer than expected.

 

The fertility story unfolds

Yesterday afternoon was our appointment with the fertility doctor. I’ve already had the scans and blood tests, so this meeting was to review the results. Now just about a year ago, I received my AMH results by phone and the news was essentially devastating – so driving to this appointment yesterday, my nerves were on high alert.

All these scenarios were running through my mind as I moved light to light to light across Ottawa.  Zsolt all the while was assuring me everything was fine, and I should calm down. I told him, “I know everything is fine,” but that nevertheless I couldn’t calm down.

Your mind can say one thing, but your body may say another. The anxiety felt like a thinkness inside me.

We drive up, we park, we go in. . . we’re directed to a side waiting room and it gives flashbacks of the Southampton Princess Anne Hospital where all the baby-related cases are ushered to these tiny waiting rooms where people generally sit for an hour flipping through year-old magazines of Elle, Seventeen and Cosmo. Oh yeah, that’s also where they put the ladies who have cancer, right before breaking the news. So these stupid memories are clearly doing little for my composure.

However, Zsolt starts talking to me about his family and shopping for televisions, and in listening to his description of this debate between 3D television or 46 inch screens, somehow I’m calmed down. That’s husband-power right there.

The doctor calls us in, we go in. Her office is bright and comfortable. She has a computer that I’d love to own (those big screens on the desk).

And she basically dives in. It’s not so bad.  While my AMH test was abysmally low – other tests give reason to hope. My progesterone is tickity-boo;  my follicle count is low, but a high type of low;  some hormone is a bit higher than it should be (the hormone that tells the eggs to release, which causes ovulation), however not too high . . .

Essentially, yeah, my fertility has taken a hit. My eggs are low. I’m not where the average 30 year old woman would be in terms of baby-making goodies.

However, it’s not bad.

She says, “you’re nowhere near menopause.” And that is totally awesome, because I’ve had enough of hot flashes and anxiety attacks for a while.

But she cannot say how my fertility will be in a year, or two years, or five years . . . which is why I’m thinking of trying to extract some eggs sooner, and then actually have a baby later. However we’ll see. Before you’re allowed to do anything, they need to get permission from your oncologist – which kinda frustrates me simply because I hate people telling me what to do. Suggesting what to do is fine. But telling me? No. No. No. However, Dr Canada is excellent and understanding. If I keep an open mind to his suggestions, I’m sure he’ll keep an open mind to mine as well.

And that’s my baby story. Not too much to say. Zsolt is ship-shape. My uterus is looking lovely. And apart from all of this, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Hmm, that’s a concept that never seems to lose relevance. Wait and See. See and Wait. Wait See.

End of story.

Lint in your inbox

Just back from the Fertility Clinic . . . I felt soooo nervous driving to the appointment, numb inside and near panicked in my mind (so maybe I shouldn’t have been driving). Post coming soon, like tomorrow soon, about the results. And then there’s that question: what the heck comes next? But when does that question NOT sit upon our shoulders?

Okay – this isn’t really a post, it’s just an update. It’s a faux-post and I apolgize to email subscribers for this piece of lint in your inbox. 

More to come soon. Promise and cross my heart.