Happy Friday, friends! As most of you know, I have been experiencing awful fatigue recently, and went to the doctor two weeks ago to order up some blood work. Remember that story? Well, just when I thought things could not get worse… they did.
[This might be the TMI part of the post, but full story calls for it.]
I have PCOS and never really think too much about it. I don’t really sit and whine about it and act all “woe is me” with it. I have it, I take my meds, I do my best to regulate my body. Earlier in the week I had a bloody/mucusy/not normal discharge. I have a family history of lady cancers and three years ago Nan was diagnosed with uterine cancer after a similar experience. Great. Furthermore, after never getting my period growing up (because of the PCOS) I still never really know what to expect… and it is not my week this week.
I called the OB/GYN to set up an appointment and they instead got me in the next day (yesterday) with Dr. Dreamsicle, my PCP. Dealing with the fatigue, and then this, I was positive I was on my death-bed. The nurse thought I was there because I thought I had a UTI. The conversation went like this:
Him: You’re here today because you think you have a UTI?
Me: No, I’m here today because I think I have cancer and a week to live.
He did not really find this humourous, and I was not at all joking. From the time I discovered the symptoms all I could think was that by the time I was 27 I would have a hysterectomy and babies would definitely not be in our future. What if I didn’t make it through the surgery? What if surgery was not an option? How much would chemo suck? Would I tell people or troop through it on my own? Do you announce that on Facebook like people announce pregnancies by one day out of the blue updating your status to say “chemo was a bitch today!” to which the phone calls and texts come in like wildfire because people never knew? How could I NOT blog about that, though? (Am I sick because I actually thought about how to incorporate that into my blog?)
As you can see, my mind goes CRAZY with medical issues, which causes more stress for me, which causes more fatigue, and before I know it, I seriously only have a week to live and need to get into the doctor ASAP. It’s not hypochondria, it’s a vividly wild imagination.
So there I am, ready for the doctor’s appointment and sitting in the chair telling the nurse about my reasoning for being there. Dr. Dreamsicle came in and there I was sitting on the table with no panties. Ladies, we’ve all been there and it’s awkward no matter how you slice it.
First: Uterine cancer- it’s a no go. Thank you sweet little baby Jesus in your manger surrounded by wild sheep.
Second: Fatigue- it appears my B12 levels were beyond low. [See, I could be a doctor after all!] I get to go in for the next three months and get B12 shots. Enter excitement here I got my first one yesterday and it was surprisingly not too bad. Back in Virginia when I used to give allergy injections I would sneak it on patients by having them count to three, but sticking them on the two count. Damn it if the nurse didn’t pull that same shit with me… and I didn’t even see it coming!
GOD IS GOOD! [all the time] ALL THE TIME! [God is good]
Thank you for all your prayers over the last few weeks. The support from you all truly made a difference! I feel better all ready, but recognize it will take some time to get back to 100%. The hardest part now will be not overdoing it too quick. What a joyous way to kick off the weekend though! Make it a happy one, friends!