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2004-08-23
Worrying Yourself Thin
I can't really recommend that approach for a diet, athough it reliably works for me, but more about this later. To spare you having to wade through an incoherent post about sex, fast food, weight, and society, I'll start with the baby news.
The test results are finally in, and I'm happy to report that the beasties are well and truly dead. It seems we were dealing with an infestation of haemolytic streptococcus, not the most desireable bunch of creatures to have around, or so the doctors told me. But that is all behind us, and we have learned something else. From looking at my wife's skin she is definitely allergic to penicillin. I'm itching just from looking, but she's itching for real, and, I'm proud to say, suffering mostly silently.
Her bitching and moaning has finally subsided as she has gradually come to more or less accept the situation. You have no idea how much of a relief that is to me. Part of the reason for her calmness may be the diazepam she's getting in addition to the contraction inhibitors. We were critical of the additional medication (and she still is, complaining about the stuff muddying her brain) but it really seems to help prevent the contractions. So, after assurances from the doctors that no harm would come to the wee one, we are accepting the diazepam in more or less good grace.
What we can't quite accept yet, though, is that they want to keep my wife hospitalized until her 35th week, meaning at least 3, probably 4 more weeks in the hospital for her. We miss each other badly. The hugs, the kisses, the cuddling every morning and evening, all the little things we have gotten so used to and which we have treasured over all those years. I sure hope those weeks pass quickly!
As I alluded to above, the whole additional stress has done what stress always does to me, I've lost about five pounds over the last ten days. Great, huh? Except that I had just finally gotten my weight up to my target of 148 pounds. Oh well, at least I can now continue freely snacking on the company-provided sweets.
To further help me gain back my weight, I've opted for that most Berlin-style of all fast food this evening: Döner Kebab. The stuff is cheaper here than anywhere else in Germany (you can get it at about half the price you have to pay in Frankfurt/Main, for example) and it's better too. It's Turkish in origin, but I was told that the Döner you get around here can't be found anywhere in Turkey, as it's a creation specifically developed by Turkish immigrants for the German fast food market.
As for what it is, take one flat pita bread, cut it in quarters which you slice lengthwise, producing a kind of pocket. Line this with a garlic or herb sauce, then add onions, red cabbage, salad, and tomatoe, all freshly cut to strips or slices, and a generous amount of grilled mutton (a big cylinder of ground meat alternating with thin slices freshly roasted on a vertically rotating grill from which the roasted meat is cut in thin flakes). Yummy.
In totally different news, I've just finished reading Sane Sex Life and Sane Sex Living by Harland William Long. It made for extremely interesting and sobering reading. Interesting, because "Sane Sex Life" basically is a manual for helping married couples with sex problems improve their situation and to prevent young couples to get into sex-related problems in the first place.
The language, while in the chatty conversational style so typical of the period (the book is from 1919!) is surprisingly frank and open. True, it also contains numerous factual errors, e.g. about the menstruation cycle, and it seems that the sexual dynamics among bonobos were completely unknown at the time as well, but all those errors don't really distract from the powerfull and important message of the book: Sex is not only for reproduction, but also for recreation and enjoyment, birth control is desirable and good for any couple, masturbation and mutual masturbation are not only perfectly normal but can be downright benefitial both in solo mode and doing it to each other, consent is important, and the key to what is allowed is simply that which both parties consent to and derive pleasure from. (True, Long doesn't formulate it quite that liberally, and he also seems to have a slight anti-homosexual bias, but still.)
What makes this a sobering read is that the same message still has to be delivered to our youth today, 85 years later, and that there are still far too many of the "goody good" prudes out there who try to suppress honest and open sex information and label as sin anything that isn't strictly aimed at procreation. I won't grace these morons with a link, it should be perfectly easy to find some of their more vocal parties with a google search for "family values" or a similar search term.
2004-08-15
The State of the Über-Mess
First, thank you thank you thank you to everyone who commented. Your thoughts, prayers, wishes and hopes are more appreciated than I could ever hope to express in mere words.
Second, I took the bicycle to the hospital today. After continuing the much hated work of tiling the upper floor bathroom for most of Sunday after helping my frustratingly slooooooow uncle dealing once more with the aftermath of my grandma's death of more than a year ago, this provided not only 90 minutes of much needed workout, but also any opportunity to air out my overwrought, worry-filled brain. I'll earn sore legs for this, but it helped. Now, after watering the lawn, clearing out the dishwasher, putting away the clothes, showering off the dust from cutting an untold number of bathroom tiles with the angle grinder mingled with the sweat of an exhausting bicycle ride, and having a bite to eat, I finally have the time to blog. I promised you guys an update for today, and you have been wonderful, so you shall have it, even if it's the last thing I'll do today, which it'll likely be.
The whole mess started out last Saturday, when my wife started getting diarrhoea which continued over the weekend and well into the next week. She finally went to her ob/gyn on Wednesday who pronounced her unfit for duty and told her to get herself into a hospital pronto. There, they found out about the premature contractions as well as the streptococcus infection, and things went downwards from there. The news of a possible premature birth sent my wife over the edge, and that's how I found here in tears and sobbing her heart out when I finally got to the hospital on Wednesday evening.
The current situation looks somewhat less bleak, thank god. The infection is probably under control as she's getting antibioticum injections thrice a day. They'll test her again for the bacteria on Wednesday, and much of the future hinges on that outcome, so keep those fingers crossed a few more days, please. The contractions are a somewhat different matter. They, too, have gotten less both in intensity and frequency, but then, she's on a 24 hours a day infusion with contraction inhibitors, so that's the least one woudl expect. I would think that the odd slight contraction is to be expected two months prior to birth, but with her slight build, the CTG dutifully notes down every slightest contraction with far higher sensitivity than in the average, love-handled, expecting mother around here, which they don't seem to take much into consideration.
Then, there are the small, unnecessary and frustrating oversights on the part of the medical staff. Start with my wife's weight. She's lost about four kilograms due to the diarrhoea, which means that she's now a good eight kilograms removed from her target weight at day X. Where is she ever going to take the energy to give birth to our daughter?! Noone around here seems to have asked themselves that question. At least, after much stubborn insistence and remarking at great length on how both her breasts and her belly seem to have gotten smaller over the last few days on our part they've finally agreed to measure her weight tomorrow. Hallelujah!
Related but different, there's her diet. We've been eating our own full-grain spelt-rye breads for the past eight months. The hospital started her on a diet of wheat-only bread to counter her diarrhoea, which is fine, but then neglected to switch her to something more sensible once the incessant crapping stopped. (On a completely different note, you have absolutely no idea just how incredibly awful super market bread is - which seems to be what they're using in the hospital - until you've eaten you own bread for eight months and then have to go back. According to my wife the stuff is just vile, and I have no reason to doubt her just from looking at the abomination she got served every evening.) Wheat is quite good at dialling down the crapping, even if you don't suffer from diarrhoea, and especially if your digestive tract is more used to full-grain rye. Which means they almost wanted to give her a laxative after a few days of her wheat-only diet. Excuse me?! How about you switch her to bread that doesn't quite plug up her whole digestive tract? See? Now, that's better - shit flows again with the right amount and consistency. (Sorry for that, dear readers.)
Of course, my wife is also bored out of her mind, but we're working on that. I've brought in my laptop and a few work-related books, so she can busy herself and we'll hopefully avoid a severe case of boredom-induced insanity.
OK, that's it for now. More when and if I have something to say.
PS: Is it just me, or has my commenting readership gone all female? Not that I mind being the cock of the walk ;-), but it does give me pause. I mean, I can half understand this as far as the pregnancy-related stuff goes, but even my sex posts draw responses mostly from female commenters. What gives?
2004-08-11
Keep your Fingers Crossed!
I originally had planned to write up short reviews of the about half a dozen books I have read in the mean time, but it seems that life had a different idea.
My wife got hospitalized today. Not only has she been suffering from diarrhoea for the last five days, she also has premature contractions. To make matters worse, the little one is sitting far too low. All of which points to a significant risk for premature birth unless the doctors can do something about it.
Fuck!
When I left my wife an hour ago, the infusion they have given her seems to have all but stopped the contractions, and she hasn't been on the crapper since about 1 p.m., so there seems to be an improvement for at least two factors.
Now, if they'll only get the low position of the wee one back under control...
I don't know how effective a couple dozen people with crossed fingers are in this situation, but it can't really hurt, can it...
I'm off to bed now, although I'm afraid that sleep may be slow in coming tonight.
2004-08-10
24 Million Prescriptions?
Forget overprescription, if we can keep up the current level of mass medication with antidepressants, we'll have everyone on Prozac in a few years. Now, doesn't that make you happy? No? It soon will. :-)
I'm not sure whether I should be alarmed or amused. Both, probably.
2004-08-03
First Time
It had taken some time to find the glade again after all these years, first for fishing in my memories for that specific place: not too far from our home, easy to reach on foot, but sufficiently secluded and equipped with soft grass. Then, actually getting there because my memories proved to be not as precise as I would have wished and we had to backtrack once or twice. But there we were, both excited, and she looked absolutely adorable with that slight flush coloring her often somewhat pale complexion.
There were reasons for that excitement, of course. First, the place was a somewhat unusual choice for us, and rather more open to sky and nature than all previous venues, then because we had never done what we had come here to do. As with most good ideas, we shared the blame for this. The act had been a long-standing dream of mine. Not to be outdone, and sensing an opportunity, she had suggested the place, which was an equally long-standing dream of hers.
As soon as the blanket was spread, she started kissing me with a fierce passion born of excitement and fear. I answered her desire with the same uneasy mix and quickly stripped her of the few pieces of clothing she wore while she did the same to me. The weather, which had consisted lately of a spell of far too hot weather framed by cool and wet episodes was on our side this once, and so a slight breeze stroked our naked skin and provided a pleasantly slight chill in an otherwise warm, balmy day.
My hands were wandering over her excited body, touching her eye brows, her nose, her half-open lips, her ear lobes, working their way to her neck and further to her erect nipples, with my mouth following at a lingering pace of its own. We sunk onto the blanket, and while the exploring feather-light touch of my hands was breaking the trail for my mouth to follow ever more southward, she was stroking and kissing my nipples, every bit as erect as hers, then my stomach and thighs. Finally she started caressing my cock when I had arrived at her pussy, and we found ourselves in the classic sixty-nine position.
Soon she turned over and I started another expedition over her body, showering her neck and shoulder with soft, wet kisses that conspired with the breeze to send chills of pleasure down her spine while I worked my way downwards again. Stroking her thighs with the occasional detour along her lips and clit, I kissed the perfect half moons of her butt cheeks and the cleft between them. With her breath getting deeper my motions got stronger until I was almost kneading her butt while covering it with kisses at the same time.
When she was in that mixed state of high arousal and relaxation, she handed me the condom with a slightly questioning look in her eyes. I gave her a smile and assured her again that we would stop as soon as she would indicate her will to do so, and when she continued stroking my right leg I put on the condom and covered both it and her with generous amounts of lube. The cold made her squeal, and our laughing together dissipated some of the tension that had mounted during our foreplay.
She had rolled onto her right side and pulled her left leg up while I positioned myself above her and massaged her perineum before I put the head of my cock at her opening. I started gently pushing, told her again to relax, and with a slight popping sensation, my cock head slid into her. I hardly dared look down, because I feared that the sight of my dick buried between the half-globes of her butt would send me into the convulsions of an orgasm. I did so anyway beause I just had to look, and sure enough, the sight was almost enough to push me over the edge.
When I pushed to get a bit more of myself into her rear opening, feeling the tightness and the texture of her anus wrapping itself about my cock, producing sensations so different, and vastly more exciting, than entering her pussy usually did, she complained about a feeling of discomfort, so I stopped and leaned forward. She kissed me,
waking me from the most intense, life-like erotic dream I have ever had, leaving me with the prospect of a whole day of work with about 99.9% of my brain occupied with the sight of my cock buried in her lovely, cute butt hole.
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