Couch again

I've realized that as far as couches go, mine really isn't too bad. I bitch and moan about it a lot, but it's served me well these last three weeks. Sure, it smells like cat pee and has stains on it from the last 15+ years, but I can nap on it, eat on it, use my computer on it, and watch House on it.
I proudly admit that I am a House fan. I was skeptical at first. Really skeptical. Skeptical to the point where a commercial would come on and I'd mockingly yell, "He's going to die, damnit!" I got into it even before we found out about The Thing. When you don't have cable and a show has been put on a rotation similar to American Idol's, it's hard to miss. Since we were watching it two or three nights a week earlier in the summer, Husband bought me the first season as an early birthday present. Go Husband! In less than a week we've plowed through the first season and have already planned how we're going to finance the second season. What amazes me is how a show that has the same plot each week can continue to be compelling. Each episode follows a similar path: House is forced into taking a case, or forces a case upon himself because he finds something interesting about it. He berates his team into making a swift diagnosis, tells them the proper treatment for the condition and confidently predicts that the patient will be walking out of the hospital in a matter of hours (even if the patient's legs have been amputated). Treatment ends up making the patient worse, so House and his team confer once again, usually with some sarcastic banter included. They arrive on an alternate diagnosis, begin treatment, and the patient usually improves. Suddenly, something goes terribly wrong (usually indicated by rectal bleeding), and the patient's condition drastically worsens. House has his team break into the patient's bag/house/place of employment to find any possible cause of this elusive condition. After the break-in either yields no results or the wrong results, House has an epiphany, usually while watching television or treating another patient, gets his team back together, and grandly proclaims the proper diagnosis and treatment for this patient. Or else he runs (as fast as his can will allow him) to the patient's room, offends the visiting friend/family member/employee/homosexual partner, and
dramatically treats the patient usually by injecting something or unhooking something. The dramatic measure works, the patient is cured, and while not thrilled with House's attitude, the friend/family member/employee/homeoexual partner is so relieved that their friend/family member/employer/homosexual partner is cured that they weep with joy. Cut to House, in his office, sarcastically berating one of his team members, friend, or boss who is trying to reason with him. Or else, we leave the episode with House, alone in his office, listening to music and popping Vicidan. All in all, and enjoyable way to spend 43 minutes with the DVD player. Still not sure why it's good, but it is.
Rocky is still making me feel terrible. It's nauseating to do a crossword puzzle on the computer or read anything intellectually challenging. I am only drinking 24 oz of water each day, when I know I should be drinking a minimum of 64 oz. It's things like this that make me worry.

Observations from the couch

1. The house doesn't magically clean itself.
2. Despite getting rid of the cats, the house still smells like pee.
3. There's nothing on TV in the middle of the day if you don't have cable.
4. Being on the internet, reading, doing crossword puzzles makes me nauseous.
5. Crossword puzzles tend to repeat clues over and over and over again. For example, I now know there's a type of cheese called edam. Sadly, it's probably on the list of things I can't eat right now.
6. I'm waiting on a cheeseburger to arrive at my house (courtsey of Husband and Five Guys), and I'm starting to think that's a REALLY bad idea...
7. House is a really good TV show

It's my nth day on the couch...

I've lost count of how many days I've been on the couch/in bed. It's over ten. I've never been out of commission for this long. I question whether I should just push through it, be miserable all day, and go to work, or if I should continue to stay home, bored, feeling sick and a little lonely. I feel guilty for not going to work, but when I went to work on Monday, I felt awful and vomited as soon as I smelled some of the areas of the building. I don't want to work if I'm going to be useless, but staying at home is not something I'm enjoying either. I'm kind of caught in the middle between feeling too bad to go to work, but too good to stay home. That being said, both of my trips to the grocery store last night about did me in. So now I'm bored and blogging. I don't want to be one of those people who gushes about pregnancy and gives friends, family, and total strangers the minute details of the horrible things my body is doing. I would, however, like The Thing (or Rocky) as we call the baby, to possibly have something in writing about this time. I'm hoping it won't turn into maudlin, gushing about the miracles of life.
So yeah, Rocky is 7 weeks old now. I thought about posting a picture of what it looks like now, but I'm a little concerned about copyright issues. If you do a google search for "fetus at 7 weeks" you should be able to find plenty of pictures, mostly put up there by anti-abortionists. So to recap...nauseous. Bored. Somewhat cynical. Going stir-crazy. Will post more observations (for example: This morning I saw a cricket walk under the TV stand!) later, but right now, must force Gatorade into my body. I hope I'm not hurting The Thing. I hope it turns out healthy.