Health Schmealth

So I had a doctor's appointment yesterday and it went worse than expected, if possible. I was fully prepared to walk in and be told I had fibroid tumors that would have to be removed, schedule surgery, and then have that uncomfortable experience. I certainly didn't want this to happen. So then I go in and she schedules me for blood work to determine if I'm going through premature menopause (premature menopause?!?), and then I have to go back in for a lovely pap, then we'll “decide how aggressively you want to attack this.” The doctor's words.

I have a habit of going in and nodding, saying “Uh huh,” the whole time, then going home and doing a sudden doubletake once I've thought about what happened after a doctor's appointment. I was shocked to think about the options she gave me, and what she wants to rule out. I don't even want to think about most of the stuff. I just want to get all this blood work done, get through with the pap, and find out what the problem is. Then fix it.

The good news is, most of my problems are probably related to whatever I have: weight gain, terrible cramps, awful periods, problems related to the intestinal region . . . All in all, good times.

Ugh.

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