Did you know that in South Australia, and probably in other Australian states as well, that it is illegal for a couple without “fertility issues” to receive reproductive assistance?

I didn’t.

I guess I had never thought about it before.

We had lunch with our friends yesterday and they were sharing with us some things that have been happening recently when we came to this.

If a doctor provides reproductive assistance to a same sex couple in South Australia they are breaking the law unless there is some demonstrated fertility problem.

That, my friends, is discrimination, pure and simple.

Some poor deluded soul had the nerve to say that it’s not discriminatory because any hetero couple who sought reproductive assistance would also be required to have a medical fertility issue. Ummmmm, hetero coouples without fertility issues DO NOT NEED reproductive assistance!

Makes me furious.

And ashamed.

I’m ashamed that I never knew this law existed and I am ashamed that it exists in the first place.

That’s all I have to say really.

Me: Pudding, do you know one of the things  I love most about you?

Pudding: Yes?

Me: It’s your imagination. You’re always thinking cool things up. Like Tiptoe*.

Pudding: (Rolls eyes and looks exasperated) Tiptoe is real Mum.

Me: (looking sheepish and feeling as though I have failed the most basic of parenting requirements)Yes of course. Tiptoe is real but I mean, you think of cool things.

Pudding: Tiptoe helps whales have babies.

Me: Tiptoe is a midwife to whales? How fantastic. I bet Tiptoe does a fantastic job.

Pudding: (thinks for a minute) Yes, a midwife. But also he fights monsters for me.

Me: Right.

Tiptoe is a whale shark that Pudding knows. Once, in the dead of night, Pudding dug a series of underground tunnels for Tiptoe to inhabit. He swims along in these underground canals, following Pudding wherever he goes. Tiptoe guards the tunnels and protects Pudding from monsters. When Pudding does not require his services, he is busy helping whales birth their calves.

Because, of course, doesn’t everyone have a secret whale shark bodyguard who moonlights as a birth attendant to large aquatic mammals?

Thats ma boy.

Image by Werner Mischler, sourced here.

Nothing.

Some minor things like my vitamin D levels are quite low (spend much time inside immobilised by pain do you?) and my cholesterol levels are marginally high but not actually high apparently.

So nothing.

Nothing at all.

Doctor is convinced there is something the matter with me. As she put it “There’s just too many joints and things that are problematic”. I agree. There must be something.

I have a referral to a rheumatologist. The doctor assures me that there are many more in-depth tests that the rheumatologist will do.

I am not surprised really. I had a feeling that nothing would turn up. I also feel that there is a good chance that the specialist will not find anything and I will be back to square one, in pain and told to “just deal with it”.

I know these are useless, rubbish thoughts. I must pick myself up and go forth to be prodded and drained of my vital fluids with great enthusiasm and an optimistic twinkle in my eye.

Truthfully I am hoping that in the months that it will take to get a specialist appointment I will improve greatly. Beefcake has now decided that I should wean Grub. He is convinced her continued feeding is taking an unreasonable toll on my body. I won’t even consider it until she gets to eighteen, no twenty, months. I would prefer weaning to occur more naturally but if we get to twenty months I will consider it if I am no better. Of course I expect I will all better by then.

I have the flu. I have had a fever for three days. I feel leaden and snot-filled, My throat feels as though I have swallowed a cheese grater. It is making me feel decidedly up-beat. Can you tell?

Beefcake has a job interview tomorrow. Wish him luck.