2008 can eat a dick. It was seriously a crap year, as far as I'm concerned. A deployment, a miscarriage, exploding eyeballs, and chronic illness. Hot damn! Here's the year in review, hashed out one last time for posterity's sake:
For starters, in January... goddamn, what did happen in January? That was kind of a dead month, really. I started this blog, and that was about it.
In February, I got glasses. I could see the tv again! I could drive without endangering humanity! Life was good! Then Sid was sent on deployment and it kind of killed my buzz.
March was kind of a dead month again. I warred with myself for that whole month over whether or not I should consult a doctor over the wonkiness that had plagued me for years. Sid wasn't around to talk me out of it, and I made the call. Which leads us to...
April! I found out I have hypothyroidism, and this whole month was spent adjusting to Life With A Chronic Illness. My beloved veggie burgers could no longer be a staple of my diet. Vitamins were no longer something to be taken whenever I remembered, but in the morning or not at all. Coffee was suddenly something I couldn't have whenever I wanted. My daily levothyroxine was not something that I could just forget about: it had to be taken regularly. That was a hard thing to get used to. But I hardly did any bitching about any of it: I felt better, and I was so grateful.
In May, I was still waking up from a hypothyroid haze: suddenly I was no longer foggy and tired, and what the fuck, THIS IS HOW NORMAL PEOPLE FEEL?! I spent most of May marveling at that.
June. Boring. Nothing to mention.
In July, Sid returned from deployment and we spent a few weeks getting used to sharing living space (and a bed) again. That adjustment is always rough, I don't care who you are. I thought I handled it like a fucking saint, but maybe I'm just biased. We decided to try to have a baby, and for once in my life, things felt like they'd all be okay.
August. The day Hurricane Hannah hit the coast, I got a positive pregnancy test. A very clear, but faint, positive sign on my piss test.
September. Miss P comes to town and takes no prisoners: it is the worst I have ever had, the most painful and unbearable period I could have imagined. I realize it was a chemical pregnancy, an early miscarriage.
In October, Sid bought a new television. I spent a lot of time being emo. My mother says that my youngest sister might have an eating disorder.
November was the month of the conehead. Our siamese gets an ulcerated cornea and has her eye sewn shut for two weeks to keep it from exploding, which leads to her moping around with a plastic cone collar, looking miserable. I have to wipe her ass for her, which Sid seems to find hysterical.
In December, since we were having no luck making a devilspawn, Sid got paranoid and went to have a semen analysis, which revealed that his sperm are really kind of gimpy. This is the month we give up on devilspawn (for now), and when Knut finally ditches the collar and the pirate eye, it is a cause for celebration.
So here we are. A year of major fail. And minor win. Here's hoping 2009 is better for everyone.