Octomom

Nobel Prize Winners: Those Rat Bastards (Tuesday)

(Start with "Monday" if you can. After I slaved over a hot computer for hours and hours, the least you can do is read it. Did images of your mother just come crashing into your head? Sorry about that.) So what were talking about? Oh right. How it's impossible to please everyone... so you got to please yourself. (Is it just me or did James Taylor just infiltrate my blog?)

For the past few days every article I've read has congratulated Dr. Robert Edwards, one of two scientists behind IVF, for winning the Nobel Prize. Of course I read a lot of infertility sites.  Some of the general public ones were, shall we say... less complimentary.

So, this one woman Jeanne  Sager writes on her blog:

"Robert Edwards winning the Nobel Prize for Medicine...is  an official stamp of approval on the man who gave us Octomom." 

Okay... Okay...Okay... Nope. I still don't get it. What exactly does this man who came up with a break-through procedure in the 1970's have to do with Nadya Suleman, a possible nutcake who had octuplets in 2009?

Oh wait. It's coming to me now. He developed something that somebody misused thirty years later. And that's his fault.  Obviously.

Damn all of those ingenius people in the world!

Clearly:

It's Thomas Edison's fault that people got the electric chair.

It's also his fault that singers use profanity on their records. 

It's Henry Ford's fault there are drunk drivers.

It's George Washington Carver's fault kids have peanut allergies.

It's Pampers fault that babies pee themselves.

It's Martha Stewart's fault women poison their husbands' dinners.

It's Elmer's fault that people sniff glue.

It's Benjamin Moore's fault that people sniff paint.

It's Benjamin Franklin's fault that golfers playing in a storm get struck by lightning.

It's Jack Daniel's fault that people are alcoholics.

It's my husband's fault that the VCR was set for the wrong show and I missed my football last week.

It's dumb Karen's fault that Frosty the Snowman melted.   

It's my mother's fault that I have such a negative attitude.

It's Lucy's fault that Charlie Brown needs a chiropractor. 

It's William Shatner's fault his new sit-com is tanking. 

It's Wal-Mart's fault we're all wearing square-shaped clothes. 

 Wait, what were we talking about?  

Listen I gotta go. I have to go do some positive mantras. I still haven't forgiven my husband, Karen, my mother, Lucy or Shatner.

I'll talk with ya again tomorrow.

If you can, take a look at this week's article in "The Health Experts": Shari Stewart and Julia Krahm discuss: "Partnering with our Reproductive Endocrinologists: Why don't we? Why should we?"  http://laughingisconceivable.com/?page_id=642

Infertility News: I Couldn't Make This Stuff Up (Friday)

So what were we talking about? Oh right. The study done to see if teens who had been conceived via IVF were any different than those who had been conceived the "normal" way: With a little alcohol and the promise of forever. PS. Yes, they're equally obnoxious. End of study. In other infertility news: You may have heard that the Octo-mom and her doctor are planning to take over reality TV:  She with her own show and he on the eleven o'clock news.

You remember the original issues we all had with this doctor. Yeah, yeah, he took this single lady who appears to be nuts and implanted her about a million times. She had six kids, then she had eight more, now she has a reality show...

I mean this is Beverly Hills. I've heard of people addicted to plastic surgery; but in vitro fertilization? All in all, after the first slew of children, she probably should have just had a tummy-tuck and called it a day... Whatever whatever...Old news.

But now there are apparently a few other minor incidents revolving around her doctor which have come to light: Notably, a forty-eight year old woman in whom he implanted seven embryos.

I don't know how unhealthy that itself is, but can you imagine a sixty year old with seven pre-teens? The price of her IVF should include a lifetime standing reservation at the local asylum. (If only to drown out the chorus of hourly chants of "Why do I always have to go seventh?!")

So the medical community is outraged. The public is outraged...Could this man ask for better publicity?

There are literally millions of people searching desperately to make their conception dreams come true and here's this guy who can't stop getting  women pregnant...very pregnant. 

And you don't get any news bulletins running across the bottom of your TV screen when they don't get pregnant, so it seems like his success rate is 100%.

I wouldn't be surprised if he leaked these stories himself--like Madonna. If, when this seven embryo story dies down, you hear he's dating A-Rod, you'll know I'm right.

And he still has his license. And he still has his website. Which, oddly enough, still lists The American Society for Reproductive Medicine under "Resources" even though he's been expelled from it. He could at least have the decency to put an asterik, like this: ASRM*.

*Although you might not want to use my name.

I actually think that's damned magnanimous of him. I think of places I've been fired from. I wouldn't recommend any of them on my website.

Even on my resume, next to the name of the company, where the "Dates of Employment" ordinarily go, I've written: ("Yeah, I used to work for those MF's.")

Listen, I gotta go. We're having a neighborhood sock wash this weekend and I have to start sniffing to see what's clean and what's too dirty to be washed in public. I live in a very exciting town.