September 25, 2012
I had my annual today. At some point along the way, my mom and I got into the habit of calling it the annual poke-‘n’-prod. I’ve made it my habit to take the rest of the day off. No one should have to go back to work after a pelvic exam. That’s why at first I took the days I had to go to Grand Rapids for an ultrasound off. But it was eating up too much PTO, so I stopped. The day of my annual is still sacred. Go to work until it’s time to head to the appointment. Take myself out to breakfast or lunch or whatever meal it’s close to. Go home and chill.
I got to see Brandi, and as you will recall, I love her. And she’s awesome. She does that pelvic exam so fast… I know, I know. Too much information. But, ladies, you know what I’m talking about!
Anyway, she asked how things were going. She said she’d been reading my file. Apparently he sent a reply to Heather’s letter from July. Brandi was surprised I hadn’t been copied on it. (I wasn’t.) She let me read it. It said that I don’t ovulate and that I need to lose 50 pounds. It didn’t say I was an uncooperative patient in so many words, but the implication was there. I gave Brandi my point of view, told her how frustrated I was dealing with him, asked if she had any suggestions on improving my uterine lining.
That really does bug me. I spent ten years on the Pill in an attempt to control my too heavy periods and now I’m told they’re too light. How the hell am I supposed to know what normal looks like? It’s not like my periods got progressively worse over the years. They were bad from the time they started.
But I digress. She didn’t have any suggestions. She did say to ask about Prometrium. Her comment was that it might not help, but it won’t hurt. And just like last year, she wished me luck and said she hoped she’d see me again soon.
It wasn’t a bad appointment, but it did leave me a little melancholy. At least I had a good book, so I walked down the Mall to Burdick’s and had a good burger while I read my good book. And what with the Femara, that’s probably everything I’m going to eat today anyway.
Oh, and I should add, there’s nothing like getting poked in the ovaries when you’re on drugs that make them ache of their own accord.