I have this little rule for myself--nothing gets published immediately if I am depressed, really angry, or upset. It sits in the drafts folder until I cool down and decide if I want to post it or not.
I'm gonna break that rule.
My body has been doing odd things you see. Starting with "unspecified pelvic pain". Such a useful diagnosis, no? Then came the weight gain. Averaging ten pounds a month actually. Oh yay.
Of course, my tests are all perfect. Couldn't be healthier. There's that minor issue of the ovary that hurts being twice as large as the other one, but the radiologist person classified it as normal.
Naturally, there was an objection to my refusal of the chlamydia test...Until I looked at
the nurse and told her straight out, "We have the kind of relationship
where if he wanted to screw someone else, he would just tell me he was
going to, and that would be that. If you really want to though, you can run your little test"
And that my friends, was the end of that conversation.
So back for blood work next week. Then the week after for results. And if I still appear healthy as can be, off to a specialist.
The silly thing is, none of this bothers me. The fact that there might be something wrong doesn't bother me. The tests, the doctors, the specialists, none of that bothers me. Feeling like shit...Well, that bothers me a little.
But what bothers me, what really fucking bothers me, is suddenly weighing nearly as much as I did when I was pregnant with my first kid. And gaining it at the same fucking rate too.