Constance the Super

Oh, mother^&%$@

2010-05-12T19:44:00.000-07:00

I'm telling my mother about the procedure that I'm going to have and tell her that my sisters have offered to hang out with me after. She says that sheeeeeeeee wants to help, too.

Her plan:

Go to church
Drive from HerTown to MyTown (3 hours)
Maybe dad would take her to the beach (another 1 hour drive there and back=2 hours plus time spent there)
Visit me
Drive home (3 hours)

This leaves her about 45 minutes at my house. Now, this is about the length of a visit I'd like, but I don't really classify this as "helping." Maybe your afternoon jaunt to visit your kid who's had surgery is not the best time to go to the beach. Maybe it's not about you.

"Procedure"

2010-05-12T16:52:00.000-07:00

I went back to my gyno recently and she really wanted to check out my "lady business" again. She already did an HSG (the dye test where they make sure that your tubes are unblocked and whatnot). They also did an ultrasound and everything checked out.

Obviously, my inability to get pregnant is related, but I've always had problems. Since I was 13 I've had terrible cramps, bleeding, etc. Terrible. I took The Pill for years to "help" with this. It didn't so much solve anything as mask the problem. I also have pain during, you know. I don't mean he's inept pain, just shooting pain like getting hit with a broomstick. Not pleasant.

Also, after scheduling this, my mom told me that many of the women in my family have had ovarian cysts. Her aunt's was the size of a Mason jar. I'm kind of tickled that they chose that object as the comparison. At any rate, they're benign.

So. I'm scheduled to have a laparoscopic "procedure" [we're not using the S-word around here] on Friday. Today, I went to the doc and then the hospital for pre-op questions, blood work, and paperwork. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork.

Here's what's most upsetting at this point:

I can't run for 4 weeks. Okay 4-6, but I'm thinking positive. I've finally gotten to a point where I'm getting faster and it feels better and... I'm sidelined.

The good news is that I can walk (as in the exercise kind) in a week and I should be able to walk everywhere on our vacation in three weeks.

There's no good time for this, so I have to suck it up. I have to hope that this is successful. I have to hope that this somehow helps my fertility.

Good things: my sisters are going to spend the weekend with me hanging out, my husband will get to pamper me, which he really digs, I have health insurance which will cover a lot of the costs... It could be much worse.

Mrrr-eow!

2009-12-28T10:52:00.000-08:00

Anyone who hangs around my corner of the Pink Apartment Building knows that I have some "issues" with my mother and how she puts things. My primary means of dealing with that is to live in a different city and not answer my phone when she calls. Ever. Sometimes I listen to her messages, often not. Delete, delete, delete.

We were all together for Christmas this week and I brought up to my siblings that a family friend of ours whose wife had died this year was remarrying. And not only was he remarrying, but his fiancée was another old family friend. I'd been thunderstruck, but pleased since he seems so happy at such a late age. I've also heard that quickly remarrying after a spouse dies after a long illness is not uncommon. So, I really wasn't judging on that front. In fact, I'd always felt that their marriage was profoundly unhappy. [Not unlike my own parents...]

So, we're all thinking, wow, that's unexpected that those two got together or something along those lines. My mother walked in and said, "Well, she has an inheritance."

DO WHAT? My mother who used to always talk about how she married my dad in spite of his not having money and how much that pissed off her parents and haha on them and aren't their values all effed up...

Okay, so it gets better. She then said that the groom couldn't just live on Social Security. Someone brought up that he had worked for many years for an organization that must have a pension for someone of his generation. Oh no, she said. They don't do that. (As if she knows. Not that we do, but why is she so certain?)

One of my sisters told our mom that she felt that Mom was disrespecting the bride by saying that there was no reason that the groom would be marrying her except for financial reasons. Mom said, no, I was just saying that he'd go and live with her and she'd take care of him.

NO discussion of love, affection, sex, companionship... just money.

Later someone brought up that the bride is a counselor and my mom went to see her for a grand total of two sessions before she decided that "flight to safety" was much easier. She was "healed" and no more need for therapy. Unfortunately, she doesn't see that in any way as being related to why her children spend as little time as possible with her.

Funk

2009-11-29T18:57:00.000-08:00

I am just in a giant funk. I have tons of reasons to be happy and thankful, but I just feel rotten and dissatisfied.

1. I'm not pregnant yet. I had the HSG test where they put the catheter of dye in you and all that and then ultrasounds of all my lady business. Everything checked out. So, my "baby factory" is structurally sound. Yay. Husband's "raw material" is sound. Yay. Still not pregnant. Boo. My wacko endocrinologist also put me on Metformin to help with PCOS because my testosterone was kinda high, but the number I saw over her shoulder didn't seem high and the ultrasound didn't show any problems... Also, that shit makes me sick to my stomach all the time and I've gained weight since starting it, which is the opposite of what happens to most people. Ugh. I need a new endocrinologist and to make another appt. with the gyno. In the meantime, I am weaning off the Metformin. If my doc wants me on it again, I can go on it again. I'm just so damn tired of being sick and I'm not convinced that it's worth it. Oh, and I have ZERO sex drive, which makes getting pregnant a little difficult.

2. I'm depressed. All I want to do is sleep. I've quit falling asleep in front of my classes, but only barely. Whenever I'm home I nap, lie on the couch, and play on the computer. I barely have the energy to cook, clean, or do anything around the house. I do some long-distance running, but I only do it once or twice a week because I can't find the energy to work out during the week. I have no excuse. I have no one else to take care of.

3. I keep gaining weight. I know that working out more and eating less would help, but honestly, I'm not really eating that much. I'm drinking lots of calories, though...

4. I drink too much. Not alcoholic too much, just too often. Too many calories. Too much dehydration for running. Also not helpful with trying to get pregnant. Without exercise it is the one way that I can get some relief from the stress and craziness.

5. I don't have much energy for my job. Some days I just don't care. I think that it's about the lack of energy. All I want to do is sleep or read or leave school somehow. I hate it. I'm not lazy. I really like what I do. I just don't have any energy.

So. Whine, whine, whine.

A trip to the endocrinologist today

2009-09-23T17:08:00.000-07:00

Thinks my testosterone is too high. Thinks that I do have PCOS (thought maybe not before). Wants me to take Metformin. Should help me get pregnant. Also have thyroid issues that are being treated.

I'm really nervous about this. I'm not really sure why. Maybe because they weren't sure about PCOS before, although it was always a possibility. Didn't want to be hasty. If it doesn't work or it's clear that it's not helping I can stop taking it. And it might help.

Argh. And at the same time, crossing my fingers.

No. I don't have any news.

2009-09-22T20:11:00.000-07:00

We've been trying to get me pregnant since last spring. Spring a year ago. We did take a few months off last fall when hubby got depressed, but otherwise, we've been doing all the things that you're supposed to. And I'm still not pregnant.

There are approximately 1 million reasons I might not be. I've been to the doctors and all that, so I'm doing what I can do. All I really want to share is that I'm waiting and waiting and waiting, either to pee on a stick or for my period to come. Again.

I hate this. I hate waiting. I wish I could know rather than getting my hopes up for two weeks and then have them crushed. Oh well. It could be worse. I'm just whining.

I outed myself

2008-12-17T20:20:00.001-08:00

I am stupid. I commented on a friend's blog--my sister-in-law's friend. I didn't sign out as Constance and so it links to this blog... DUMBASS. I don't mind her here and if she links through, Hi! Welcome to Crazy Town. Yes, this is Middle Sister. Needed a place to vent about craziness, including my mom.

Has anyone else done this? I usually make my Constance comments all at once and then sign out before commenting on "real" blogs. But I am forgetful. And dumb.

Depression

2008-10-16T15:30:00.000-07:00

I'm not doing all that well right now. I feel useless and lack energy most days even though I'm eating well and exercising. I'm managing to hang on and not cry too often. It's been a day or two. And see below for the irritability that I've been dealing with.

Hubby, on the other hand, is a huge mess. In almost 8 years I've never seen him this bad. He's changing meds and is trying to make an appointment with a talk therapist. In the meantime, he is having a terrible time. He can barely function and he's miserable because he hates being this way. He's having panic attacks and is crying. I feel completely helpless. It sucks.

We have been talking a lot lately. Constantly. That's probably the best thing in all of this.

We're thinking that (if it doesn't happen this month) we'll put off trying to get pregnant, at least until this summer. We need some time to be mentally stable again. And we want to try to save some more money. I know that you can never have enough, be "ready" enough, be financially prepared enough, but... when we're having actual panic attacks it's probably time to postpone.

Baby-Making

2008-09-20T10:45:00.000-07:00

So, the fun continues. We both have a hard time performing on command, honestly. We're enjoying it when we do it, though. This is the third month. According to my calculations I can test on Thursday. I'm hopeful, even though the last week was very physically stressful. But I won't be crushed if it doesn't happen. I know this isn't always easy.

I'm also terrified that we're doing the wrong thing. As in, trying for a baby. A whole new wave of doubts has swallowed me up. I keep thinking we'd be terrible and miserable and start to hate each other. And mostly--ruin our child's life.

And don't get me started on certain people informing me that I am a cavalier and careless person if I don't have an abortion if my as-yet-unconceived child happens to have a birth defect. See below about the "story" about the kid who's having (allegedly) surgery without anesthesia. Jeez. I thought my mom was bad about saying unsupportive things. But also, that I wouldn't have thought through what it might be like to have a sick child. To be a sick child. I'm almost as insulted by being called thoughtless as I am as being told what I need to do. By someone who just doesn't understand my situation, or perhaps anyone's situation other than her own.

And who tells someone they need to have an abortion?!?

You're not alone

2008-09-03T16:38:00.000-07:00

Understanding Your Moods When You're Expecting: Emotions, Mental Health, and Happiness -- Before, During, and After Pregnancy by Dr. Lucy Puryear.

Fabulous book and the author is a very kind and caring person as well as being extremely knowledgeable and experienced. This is one of those books that I think everyone should read. I keep hearing my friends talk about how they didn't know and that they thought they were the only ones. And I love how she talks about being a Good-Enough Mother.

There are also useful references if you do need help.

I HAVE researched. Extensively.

2008-07-06T17:28:00.000-07:00

I took a very well-meaning comment and took it a little too much to heart. I'm still going to say some things here. I realize that almost nobody here knows me or my history, and sometimes I leave things out...

I have talked with my OB/Gyn about pregnancy and lithium (and/or other medications for bipolar disorder). She has extensive experience with women with mood disorders being pregnant and giving birth. She agreed that with my history (very short relapse time and every relapse is worse than the previous one), going off all meds, even just for the 1st trimester is not an option.

I have talked with a nationally-recognized psychiatrist working with women with mood disorders before, during, and after pregnancy. She agreed that going off all meds is not an option. She said that lithium is probably the best choice, although Lamictal is an option. I will visit her again during pregnancy (should this happen) and especially towards the end as we work to avoid postpartum psychosis.

I have talked with my psychiatrist. She has experience with women with depression before, during, and after pregnancy. She referred me to the specialist, but the specialist agreed that she is more than qualified to be my primary mental health caregiver during pregnancy.

Pregnancy and lithium don't mix.

This comment especially pushed my buttons and possibly not why you would expect. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 23 years old. After trying numerous medications, I found a certain amount of relief of symptoms when I was taking lithium. It had some side effects that were bearable. I didn't care for all of the blood tests that I had to have on a regular basis, but I appreciated that they were being done. Numerous body functions were tested.

I was 23 years old and I wasn't ready to get married. I was sexually active, but I was conflicted about it because of my upbringing. Of course, this didn't stop me from having sex! I had a cervical cap, but then traded it in for The Pill because it helped with cramps, but mostly because I was terrified of getting pregnant. I was not just terrified because I was unmarried, but because my doctor had told me that lithium would cause such extensive birth defects that I would have no choice but to terminate the pregnancy. He said that the only way for me to have a child--ever--would be through adoption. That's a hard pill to swallow when you're 23.

Not long after that, I fired my doctor, quit taking the meds and tried to hang on to my sanity. I managed to make it through the manic periods without completely destroying my life. Except that my debt was high, my credit was shot, my relationships were ruined or strained, my career was nonexistent, all of the usual things. Apparently, none of these were evident enough for anyone to suspect that I was ever manic. And like I said, I was in denial. Depression, on the other hand was something that I knew I struggled with and got finally help for about 7 years ago.

11 years after my original diagnosis, my primary care physician referred me to a psychiatrist. We had tried all of the typical antidepressants and nothing had really helped. I still had "anxiety." So, the psychiatrist worked with me and asked questions and watched me and after a particularly bad manic episode, even I knew that I wasn't just anxious. The psychiatrist amended her diagnosis of depression and anxiety to bipolar disorder. She had known about the original diagnosis, but I'd also told her that the original doc was a jerk and a quack. I stand by those statements, although sometimes, a blind squirrel will find a nut.

In fairness, I had been in denial and the condition is such that if you're not actively manic when you go in and you don't report it to your doctor, they won't get it. Well, my doctors at least, because they're not psychic.

So, pregnancy. I fell in love with an amazing man. I somehow tricked him into marrying me. After 7 years together we realized that parenthood was something we wanted to pursue. The research now is different. I blogged about what I found.

And now the rubber hits the road. Or, the rubbers hit the road. Wish us luck!

She heard me!

2008-07-03T10:32:00.001-07:00

I went to the psychiatrist today. I had emailed her a list of all the kinds of lithium I've been on since January. Hubby was like, doesn't she have that in her notes? And she does, but she needed what they actually gave me since almost everything is generic.

I also emailed her the short version of what I wrote below. I wanted her to hear why I was so resistant to Lamictal and also that I understood why she was reluctant to put me on more lithium (problems I had in the winter with nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, dizziness, "brain fog", etc.). I also told her about 10 years ago when I found that I was the most stable when I was taking lots of lithium. Until my dr. pissed me off and I fired him and the drugs. Smooth move.

So, the specialist gave her recommendation--all lithium if possible. Lithium citrate if necessary--it's a liquid and it's sometimes easier to tolerate. Lithobid otherwise. She said that she's had people on Lamictal without problems, but it's still unknown. My doc said she understood why I was concerned. She said we could decrease or discontinue its use. Another option is to start it up again after the 1st trimester if needed. That sounds like a good option.

Currently, I am taking:
400mg Lamictal
600mg lithium carbonate

Going forward:
Taper off Lamictal (-100mg per week) until 0mg per day
900mg Lithobid (300mg in the AM, 600mg in the PM or even three times a day at first if that helps with the side effects)

Blood test next week.

So, all in all, life is good. I'm excited. I feel like I'm about to start college or something. Something huge and terrifying and wonderful and exciting. I can't wait!

And after all of this, please God, let us be fertile!

Bipolar medications and birth defects

2008-06-30T12:44:00.000-07:00

This is just a place for me to put together some of the information I've found so far.

National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI):

Managing Pregnancy and Bipolar Disorder.
Taking Mood Stabilizers during the Childbearing Years
Pregnancy Pointers for Women with Psychiatric History: "If psychiatric medication is prescribed, it is better to use one that has been marketed for 20 years or more."

Incidence of birth defects while using drugs vs. no drug*

* Remembering that no drugs ≠ good idea

Lamictal: risk of cleft palate

without medication: 0.50-2.16 per 1000
with Lamictal: 8.9 per 1000
FDA: "The clinical significance of the currently unconfirmed association between lamotrigine and oral clefts remains uncertain pending further data collection in pregnancy registries or through other research."
Lamictal info from NAMI

Lithium: risk of Ebstein's Anomaly (serious heart valve problem--multimedia library) info from NAMI:

without lithium: 0.05 per 1,000 (1 in 20,000)
with lithium: 0.5-1.0 per 1,000 (10-20 in 20,000)
Obviously, that a huge increase over the general population, but much less than the risk of cleft palate with Lamictal (8.9 per 1,000)

For comparison: risk of Down Syndrome

at age 35: 1 in 350 (2.9 per 1,000)

Others:

FDA: "The NAAED Pregnancy Registry has previously established an association between major malformations and the antiepileptic drugs phenobarbital and valproate."

Throw these numbers into the Num-BO-tronic 2008 and it spits out:

Cleft palate (Lamictal): 8.9 per 1000
Ebstein's Anomaly (Lithium): 0.5-1.0 per 1,000
Down Sydrome (age 35-40): 2.9-10 per 1,000

Lamictal's risk of cleft palate is higher than lithium's risk of Ebstein's Anomaly and Down Syndrome (until age 40)
Lithium is my first choice. You know, after the world where I'm surrounded by flowers and puppies and I don't have a mood disorder.

This was so hard to put together. I am okay with numbers and all, but then I start picturing a baby. Our baby. And I can't focus on the surgeries and all of that. We can research and know that we live near some amazing hospitals for children. And just pray that our baby turns out okay. So we can harm him or her in all the normal parental screw-up kinds of ways.

Health care coordination

2008-06-25T10:11:00.000-07:00

I have been frustrated with my health care situation lately. First, let's start with a list of my doctors, in no particular order:

Primary care physician (family doctor)
OB/GYN
Ophthalmologist
Dentist
Psychiatrist
Specialist psychiatrist
Therapist

All of that is enough to make my head crack open. All of them have to correspond with each other, which really means dealing with their various office staff people. And that's always a delight. But it's worth it. My therapist referred to it as being the CEO in charge of my health care. I have to make sure that everyone is doing what they're supposed to do and working with the others. I have to let them do their jobs and not micromanage, but it's also my responsibility to make sure that they're agreeing with each other or finding some way to figure things out so that I can get the best possible care.

And then sometimes I want to lie face down on the floor and cry.

And then my pity party is over because I have access to all of those doctors and I have insurance that covers most of them. Although the ones that aren't covered are really pricey. $225 to see the specialist and $110 for the therapist. Once a week right now, although the plan is to decrease it to twice a month soon. So, it's kicking my ass and my wallet is empty. But I feel better. And that's all that matters, right?

RIddle me this, Batman

2008-06-20T19:20:00.000-07:00

I write all over the internet that I am bipolar.

When some mean jackass says that about me on his blog it hurts me.

He's flinging it as an insult, which is part of it.

But I guess my real friends don't talk about MY situation on their blogs. They comment on mine. And they talk about themselves on theirs.

Where's your feather boa, Drama Queen?

2008-06-19T19:15:00.000-07:00

I had a friend many, many, many years ago. Apparently, I meant a lot more to him than he did to me. He was kind of rude and snappy and criticized me constantly. And he lied. All the time. It was high school and that felt a lot more normal than it does now. Well, obviously, now I wouldn't let anyone treat me like that for 2 minutes.

Over the years, this friend wandered in and out of my life. After age 16 we never lived in the same town. He did date a friend of mine for about 10 or 12 minutes. But it didn't work out. So, she and I moved on.

He flitted in and out of my life and I'll admit that I was a little less than kind. In fact, that's part of why I stopped talking to him. He treated me like I was his kid sister. He would actually say things like, "You're growing up!" When I was 28. Need I tell you how I felt about that? Things in my life got busy and I didn't have the money for long-distance phone calls (remember those?) and I quit checking my free email account. He may have emailed me, but I didn't respond because I didn't check it. He probably took that personally.

Many, many drama-free years later and I have a blog. A public blog that anyone can read. I'm careful that I don't put my full name or name my employer and all that, but it's obvious that it's me. No biggie. So, all my friends comment and I used to let anyone comment. First I added the captcha/word recognition because I got tired of people trying to sell me cat furniture (my favorite). Then, I posted about a movie and I got a bizarre response about ex-girlfriends getting VD. WTF?!?!??! It turns out that it was a line from a movie that I'd mentioned and it was the first quote on IMDB. So, someone went on there and copied that down and commented anonymously. How lame is that. So I took off the option to comment anonymously. And also, because I can't let things go and because it seriously creeped me out, I checked site meter. Bonehead is the ONLY person I know in that town.

Every so often, I check sitemeter and I noticed that Buttscratch, USA checks my blog EVERY SINGLE DAY. First, get a feed reader or something! And then, I know it's his way of driving past my house. He's too far away to do it physically. And checking to see if my friend is there with me and if I mention her and if we mention him... it's all too creepy to express. It sounds really conceited and paranoid, but he's done things like that in the past.

So, drama ensues. He comments on all of our friends' blogs and someone finally gets fed up. And tells him to go away. So he disables comments and writes the meanest, most hateful post ever. Meant to hurt others. Hurt them by twisting words of their friends. That kind of hateful.

So... what do I do?

Obviously, I need to be an adult and not check his blog. Really. Never.
Quit checking my sitemeter unless some (different) freak comments or something
Don't respond if he comments on my blog. Don't. Comment.
Quit trying to "understand." There is something wrong with him. Pray for him, wish him well, but don't try to befriend him again. Or tie things up neatly (you know, that word).

Here's something else. In all of these years (20!) it never occurred to me that there might be something really wrong with him. Other than severe jackassedness. Could he have a personality disorder? I know that I'm not a psychiatrist, but it could be possible, right? If so, how does that change it?

Does that make me feel better or worse? Not sure
Am I allowed to be as angry about the mean things he says? Yep
Does this make it easier to accept that there really is something wrong and I need to just move on? Probably
Does this help validate the feelings that I had that there really was something wrong and potentially dangerous about him? Do I need to answer that one?

If you're new, you may not know that I'm bipolar. I'm "crazy" my own self. I am not a danger to myself or others. I am being and have been treated. I know other people who are in similar situations. There are differences, though. Of course, there is also the established history of behavior with him.

So... take a deep breath... and be a GROWN UP!

House Rules

2008-06-19T18:50:00.000-07:00

I read somewhere that a blog is like your virtual living room. I like that. I like it a lot. I tend to think of it as a big dormitory where anyone can wander around and come and go as they please. And just as in the dorm, you need some rules:

Do not come into my room and pee on the carpeting.
Peeping toms are not welcome. Peeping is creepy. Come in and say hi or don't come in at all. And if you like me, I bet I'll like you!
No one forced you to come in. If you don't like me or the activities in my room, you are free to go.
Don't get offended if I install a peephole or require that people identify themselves when speaking in my living room.
I can lock my door if I want to. Take it personally or don't.
If you'd like, please invite me to your room. I'd love to visit and I promise to abide by these rules there.

So, that's all. Until I have the time to vomit up everything that prompted this post.

Thanks for the support

2008-05-09T15:27:00.000-07:00

My mother is crazy. Actual, psychiatrically-diagnosed crazy. I am also crazy in that sense. Different diagnoses. What is the difference other than I'm me and therefore always right (ha)? The difference is that I have/am/will be treated for my condition. I admit it and work on/with/through it. My mother did the classic "flight to health" and I am sympathetic to a certain extent. The hard part for me comes when she wants me to do the same.

"The same" is "healing prayer." I believe in prayer. I believe in healing prayer. I don't want to tell my mom that what she believes in is crap. Even if I didn't agree.

I have prayed. Others have prayed. I am still bipolar. It's been 10 years since my initial diagnosis. I have done the round of doctors and meds and prayer and diet and everything. Some things have helped more than others.

Prayer HAS helped me with inner peace. It HAS NOT taken away the bipolar disorder. I don't think it's a lack of faith. Is it really a lack of faith if I think that the answer to the prayers is to live the life that I have been given with the body that I've been given as the best possible person that I can be?

I don't believe in a "prosperity gospel" and I don't think that if I love God enough that I will be healthy, wealthy, and wise. So, why should I believe that I should be able to demand and receive absolute healing. Do I think it's possible? Yes. Do I think it has to happen? No. I kind of feel like God's not a fairy godmother.

It's so hard. She calls and leaves these messages. And sends emails that are harder to get away from. I need to just delete them. Right away.

A friend said that I need to set boundaries. I understand the concept, but I don't know how to actually do it. Well, other than screening all her calls. Hence, the therapist.

Mostly, I hate how I feel after these interactions. I feel hurt. Like she's saying that I'm not okay unless I get rid of this "thing." That I am not faithful enough. That my relationship with God is not good enough, possibly even nonexistent. I know that I'm probably reading too much into it, and even if she did--I'm an adult. I know the truth.

And don't get me started on how it feels when she tells me how I have to get rid of this disease before I can become a mother. Not treatment. 100% eradication.

I'm alone in the house!

2008-05-03T17:42:00.000-07:00

My man is in AFRICA.

AFRICA.

He is not here. He is not at home.

I can't blog about it because it ISN'T SAFE.

But it blows that I can't talk about:
How hard it is.
How much I miss him.
How I turn the burglar alarm on during the day. When I'm home.

He's on a plane right now and I am consumed with worry, impatience, and excitement. I am planning to make him brunch when he gets home. In a new silk nightie.

His plane is supposed to touch down in 12 hours. Adding delays and customs and all that, maybe he'll be here by 10AM.

Welcome to my office...

2008-05-03T17:30:00.000-07:00

...where I promise to fix it, but never will.