Same Day. More Time.
In all the other blogs I read, the writers chronical something... motherhood, pregnancy, bowel movements. I hereby decide to devote this blog to chronical my ... well, I'm not sure what to call it.... see, I've been fatigued lately.
More than that.
Not so much.
Yet, after having held out for the "natural" alternative for about 6 months now, I finally went to a "regular" doctor to see why I have constant back pain, interminable periods, wild mood swings, and absolutely no interest in anything.
I have this aversion to complaining about things, or asking for help of any kind. Probably stems from my early show of feminism for my parents' benefit - "Don't tell ME I can't do something... I'll show you..." But that's a whole different post.... Anyway, turns out this time that, age, stress, and hormones have finally caught up to me. Which is why I was a little unnerved when I found myself in my female doctor's office, a short two months after my annual physical, during which I defiantly told her that I was certainly NOT interested in Hormone Replacement Therapy, practically begging for a cup of hormone laden anything to chug!
Yes, this past year has been stressful to say the least. Two house payments, (not to mention utilities and insurance) funding and staffing difficulties for Downtown Dad's business, Commission pay for me (need I say more?) Two teenagers... you get the picture. Add to that, the fact that my lower back started to hurt a good share of the time and has progressed to constant pain which I thought was a side effect of what I thought was cramping due to irregular periods, which caused me to wake more and more often during the night, which I tried to rationalize as just more time to write but obviously never used, causing me guilt on that front, and then there's the new puppy who took 6 months to decide to pee outside, immediately after which she went into heat! (fertile females in the house - 3; immature or infertile males in the house 3 - talk about hormonal overload! Again, another post!)
My doctor, wonderful, patient, logical woman she is, asked a few questions, poked and prodded a couple of places and listened and handed me kleenex, and listened, and listened, then scheduled me for an ultrasound. Seems that she concluded from my torrent of tears and my disjointed sad stories that I may be suffering from the effects of uterine fibroid cysts (as well as menopause, sleep deprivation, and stress - but, again, that's another post). This diagnosis in itself is not necessarily comforting, but the fact that there might be something actually causing my discomfort was, well, comforting! Depending on the outcome of this test, I could be looking at anything from antidepressant or hormone therapy to hysterectomy to cancer.
So, my ultrasound test is scheduled for tomorrow at 10 a.m. Before which I must drink 32 ounces of some beverage (they did not specify alcoholic or non alcoholic.... OK another post... ) without peeing until it's over! Yikes.
My fellow female Realtors, all of whom are of my vintage, and older, simply shrugged and said "Do it honey" upon hearing of my impending tests and subsequent surgical and drug options. This is apparently a normal thing and I'm apparently too stubborn, too stupid and way too attached to my hippy past in my denial of the whole situation.
Here then, begins day one of my journey to a pain free, rested, regular, normal life.
Is there such a thing? We shall see.