Last week I had a follow up appointment with my new female endocrinologist.
My first visit with her was not fun. I had not had a period in almost 6 months. I could not lose weight no matter how much I worked out or watched what I ate. I felt tired all of the time, even though my thyroid numbers were finally in the normal range. I was an emotional and physical wreck.
I told her about my symptoms. I told her how my doctor told me to “just enjoy” not having a period. I told her about my frustration with my weight. I told her how I felt like no one was truly listening to me.
And I cried.
And I cried some more.
It was embarrassing.
She listened. But more importantly, she heard what I was saying and she properly diagnosed me.
“I believe you’re insulin resistant.” She said. “I want to put you on a medication that will help your body be more sensitive to insulin.”
Out of desperation, I trusted her.
Turns out, I was right to trust her. She saved my life.
I’m sure that sounds dramatic, but if you had experienced the hell I was going through physically, you’d understand.
I’m thinner. I’m happier. I am NOT TIRED ALL OF THE TIME. I have periods every!single!month! without fail. I can think clearly again.
I feel joy again.
I feel so many things that I haven’t felt in years.
Good things. Beautiful things. HORNY THINGS.
Before I left her office, she told me she was going to order a new round of test, just to make sure all was truly well.
“If all your tests come back fine, I’ll want to see you again in 6 months.” She said.
“Sounds good to me.” I replied.
As we walked out of the room, she turned to me, put her hand on my shoulder and said “I’m really proud of you, Y.”
I tried to fight it, but I am an Emotional Asshole who can not control The Tears.
I started to cry.
“I am so grateful for what you did for me.” I said. “You actually listened to me and you NAILED IT. You gave me the answers I needed to finally get healthy again.”
“No.” she said. “You did it all. You did all of the work and you should be so proud of yourself.”
You know what?
I am proud of myself.
Proud that I stood up for myself, even though it was uncomfortable, even though it made OTHER people uncomfortable. I’m proud that I didn’t allow myself to be intimidated. That I said “You’re not doing a good job for me.” and sought out someone who could help me.
I have my readers to thank for giving me the courage I needed to do it. You told me I deserved someone who would listen. You told me to get a new doctor already. It was your comments I thought of as I typed the email to my doctor, basically saying “I don’t want to see you anymore.”
HOLY MEDICAL CHEESE.
I can’t help it. This is the first time in years that I feel so full of life, energy and most of all, hope.
I am happy to say, my tests have all come back normal. Thyroid is great (.71, y’all!) B-12 levels are great! Kidneys and liver? FINE! Weight? Coming off. (Very. Slowly. BUT! It’s okay.)
Down 26 inches and 42 pounds. (Only 6 pounds away from the 180’s!)
For those of you who are brave enough to look, I am posting my current weight photos after the jump. Beware: there will be “sagging belly” and also CHEESY SMILES.
Losing weight when your body is fighting itself isn’t easy. In fact, it’s been harder than words could ever express.
I finally have managed to get under 200 pounds– that was a huge victory. But the battle is not over. I still have at least another 40-50 pounds to lose. (And I do mean “have to.” Not “want to” or “would like to.” H-A-V-E to.) I know that it’s going to be even harder still. I know I’ll have to continue to make adjustments to my diets. I know I’ll have to be even more disciplined. I know I’ll have to workout harder than I’ve been doing. I know there are a lot of challenges that lie ahead.
I’m ready for them. I am excited to see what this year holds for me physically. I’m hoping this is the year I can stop taking Metf*ormin. I’m hoping this is the year I can run a 5K or a 10K or A HALF MARATHON. I *feel* like anything is possible if I put my mind to it, but the reality is that this body of mine is kind of an asshole. If I don’t eat correctly, if I don’t continue to work out regularly, things could take a turn for the worse in the blink of an eye. I know that whore prostitute, Diabetes, is lurking around the corner, waiting for me to give up on myself so she can have her way with me. This is what keeps me motivated to do the right things for my body.
I’m not going to let that whore win.
It’s taken me 2 years to lose 38 pounds.
If I dwell on that, I would cry. I would give up. I can not dwell on that.
I have to believe in myself and my ability to Beat This Shit. Because I’m tired of This Shit.
(I know. I sound like a broken record. Trust me, I FEEL like a broken record. I try to keep my posting about this stuff to a minimum. The thing is– this is my life. This is what I live every single day and writing it out helps. Especially because I know that the people who read here will be here, cheering me on, offering me advice and that has been INVALUABLE to me. I hope you understand.)
(I feel like I need to point out the fact that the most recent picture is a bit misleading. The mirror at the gym makes me look much thinner than I am. I definitely am not as thin as it looks. I almost hesitated in posting, but I wanted to show the difference in my body’s shape.)
One of the symptoms that led me to believe I had a thyroid problem was the fact that I had no endurance during workouts.
I’ve never been a Super Athlete, but workouts have always been a part of my life. When I was a teenager, I would workout for hours in my bedroom (with layers of clothing to “sweat out” the fat.) When I got married, I joined a women only gym. I would work out every morning before work. I left that gym when I got pregnant with my first child, I quit that gym, but joined another gym 2 months after my son was born.
And I went every single day.
Exercise has always been a part of my life.
Sure, I went through periods where I would be “too busy” to work out, but those periods never lasted long.
After I had my daughter, I got back into the gym right away. It took me longer to lose the weight than it had in the past, but I pushed myself hard at the gym and it paid off.
But after I had reached the 70 pounds lost mark, something began to happen.
Workouts became harder. I couldn’t push myself as hard. I’d get winded easily.
I started skipping days at the gym because I was physically unable to work out. “I’ll take a week off.” I told myself.
A week came and went. The thought of working out made me want to cry. I was exhausted, unmotivated.
I remember one time in particular. I had forced myself to get up off the couch and go to the gym. I was tired. This wasn’t a normal tired. This particular tired literally made my body ache.
I made it to the gym and stepped on the treadmill. I turned the treadmill on and begin to walk.
In less than 5 minutes, I was exhausted. I had a hard time catching my breath. My muscles ached.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” I thought to myself. “Why am I being SO LAZY?”
Then, right there on the treadmill, I started to cry.
That workout was the last one I had for a long time.
Turns out, it wasn’t laziness.
It was hypothyroidism. (Hashimotos.)
Anyone who’s read her for a while knows that I went undiagnosed for over a year. When I was finally diagnosed and put on medication, I knew that I’d have to get back into the gym. I was naive in thinking that I’d feel back to myself after I started taking the medication.
It took months.
Getting back into the gym was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. My body was so out of shape, so unhealthy. Each workout felt like TORTURE. I cried more times than I care to admit. But I kept going, believing that one day it would be better. I would tell myself that one day my knees would stop buckling while I did the elliptical. I told myself that one day I’d be able to run on the treadmill for more than 30 seconds at a time. Even when I didn’t really believe it, I TOLD MYSELF it would happen. That was enough to get me through many workouts.
I started on a level 4 on the elliptical and a 3.0 on the treadmill. For free weights, I used 3 pound free weights.
Last night I ran (not walked) on the treadmill alternating between 5.1-5.5 and ran a mile (without stopping) in 11:52. Then, after I did 8 lb free weights, I did 30 minutes at a level 9 on the elliptical.
My knees didn’t buckle once.
Nor did I shed a single tear.
The speed at which the weight is coming off is frustrating at the moment. Still not under 200 pounds, although, AM CLOSER. 203.5 pounds as of this morning. (OMG!) I still have such a long way to go. However today I choose to focus on the progress I’ve made physically.
I am stronger.
I have more endurance.
And that’s pretty fucking awesome.
The last time that I wrote about my weight and the never ending battle to lose some was on August 20th.
When I wrote that, almost 2 months ago, I was 210, down from 237. I spoke of how I had began taking metf*ormin after being diagnosed as “insulin resistant.” I wrote about how wonderful it felt to finally see the results of my many hours at the gym. I wrote about how I was only 11 MOFO POUNDS AWAY from being under 200 pounds.
One would think that by now, I would have lost those 11 pounds and finally weigh less than 200 pounds.
I am currently 206 pounds. Only down 4 pounds since August 20th.
That’s right. I said “only.”
I’m trying to focus on the positive– I’m stronger. I have more energy. I feel much more like myself. Every time I run a mile on the treadmill (without stopping! That’s important for you to know!) I have to fight back tears of joy because a year ago, I couldn’t walk on the treadmill without almost passing out. (More on THAT later.) There truly are positive things happening with my body.
But The Weight.
The God Bless It Weight.
Losing weight is no longer about feeling great in a pair of jeans. Losing weight is about not getting diabetes. It’s about not getting heart disease. (To go along with my thyroid disease and my metabolic syndrome.)
Last week I found myself in bed 5 of the emergency room at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Chest pains. Heart palpitations. Even though everything checked out fine (Chest wall muscle aches, PVS) it was a kick in the ass reminder of what could happen to me in the very near future if I don’t lose this weight.
I’m down 31. And that’s good. That’s better than no pounds, but it’s NOT!ENOUGH!
And I’m afraid it never will be, no matter how many medications I take or how many hours I spend in the gym. That’s what it’s starting to feel like. Like it’s just never going to happen.
Because that’s been my reality for the past 2 years of my life.
It’s frustrating beyond any words I could type here.
I keep telling myself to stay positive! To focus on the achievements, no matter how small they be. “YOU CAN AND YOU WILL DO THIS!” I say to myself as I do 100 butt crunches in the gym.
But right now? Right THIS VERY MOMENT. I feel like it’s a losing battle and it’s depressing the hell out of me.
If only I could get below the 200 mark. That would be such a huge mental breakthrough. Just doesn’t feel like it’s ever going to happen. I won’t give up, I can’t give up, but OH MY GOD I FEEL LIKE GIVING UP.
Someone left a precious little comment here about how they hadn’t visited my blog in two years and how they were all “I bet she’s still talking about fat!” And HA HA HA HA HA she clicked on my blog and whatt’ya know? I was posting about fat! hahahahhaha.
That is why I had originally started the weight loss blog. I wanted to keep my weight loss stuff separate from my personal writings to keep other people happy. But I quickly realized that I didn’t have enough time in the day to update ONE blog, so having two was stressful. Also? I can write about my weightloss, or my thyroid or whatever I want to write about every day if I feel like it. I mean, I love most people that read here and would never purposely want to offend anyone, but if you get sick of what I write about, you’re always free to stay away for Two Years and then check up on me and then comment to tell me how much I suck for STILL WRITING ABOUT FAT.
My life is consumed with trying to lose weight right now. I HAVE to lose weight. When I went for my appointment with my NEW endocrinologist, she informed me that I’m insulin resistant (pre-diabetic.) She prescribed me metformin (but I’m too scared to take it.) She told me that I have to lose at least 80 pounds. Diabetes runs in my family, so hearing those words was frightening. ( And don’t even get me started on the heart issues.) My life has been altered drastically by this stupid autoimmune disease and I’m doing my best to deal with it. It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. Writing it out, although I’m sure it is boring as all hell to read, is helpful to me. I know I’ve lost a great deal of readers because of it, but I can’t worry about that. All that is important to me right now is losing 80 pounds so that I don’t develop further health problems. You know?
It’s been difficult. Months of working out and changing eating habits with very little results. But finally, FINALLY, things are changing for me. Weight is dropping (I’m at my lowest in YEARS– 222 pounds, down from 237) and my body is changing in size and shape. Also, my body is getting stronger. I no longer need to run to my car to use my son’s inhaler when I finish doing the elliptical. in fact, last night? I RAN on the treadmill. Granted, only for 2 minutes at a time, but still. I RAN.
Also? I sweat when I work out now. For the longest time, I wouldn’t sweat. No matter how hard I worked. Then, I would sweat a little and I was so happy about that. Now? I ACTUALLY DRIP SWEAT. And? I GET SWEAT MARKS ON THE BACK OF MY SHIRT
MY ASS IS SMALLER. And I know this because I took pictures of it.
Current (in the same jeans.)
(still big, but smaller, but also kind of flatter and I’m not sure I like that. I don’t want a flat ass! Am going to google “how to lose weight and keep your J-Lo ass RIGHT THIS MINUTE.)
(Okay, turns out it only LOOKS flat because the jeans are big. I put on my yoga pants and you can still Rest a Cup on It. Whew!)
Every single day I need motivation to keep working out, to keep eating right. Every.Single.Day. So I write about it, so I post pictures. And while I find writing things out to be incredibly therapeutic, I have to be honest and say the feedback I get on these posts help keep me going. If that makes me pathetic, so be it. I’d rather be pathetic than I would HAVE DIABETES.
Thank you for following me on this journey. It means more to me than you could ever possibly imagine.
Exercise is NOT an option for me anymore. That’s my new reality. When you have thyroid disease, it’s just NOT an option. And that sucks because there are days where I am so tired that it actually hurts, but I have to force myself to get up and move. And even though I’ve not seen any movement on the scale in recent months, I keep working out. Because I HAVE HAVE HAVE TO.
These past couple of weeks, I’ve kicked it up a notch in the gym. Even on the days where I’ve LITERALLY CRIED while on the way to the gym because OH MY GOD, AM SO FATIGUED.
Last week, I worked out every single day. 30 minutes on the elliptical. 30-45 of weight training, alternating legs one day, arms the next. 15 minutes on the stationery bike. 15 minutes of ab work.
And then? When I’m done at the gym? I go to the park to Walk it Out.
Every single day.
And because experience has taught me that all of that work probably wouldn’t be enough (flips my thyroid THE FINGAH) I made some pretty drastic changes in my diet based on research I did on “What foods people with hypothyroidism should avoid.”
On Monday, I stepped on the scale like I do every morning. I expected to be disappointed yet again, prepared to give myself the “but you’re making your heart SO STRONG! That’s all that matters! Fuck the pounds!”
But that didn’t happen.
I was 6 pounds light.
225 pounds, down from 231.
I needed to see that loss on the scale. Months of working out with zero results can take a toll on ones mental health, you know?
It was just the inspiration I needed to take it up a few more notches at the gym.
I’ve increased my elliptical time to 40 minutes, added 3 pounds to my hand weights, 5 pounds to leg weights. And I’ve began to mix a little bit of running with my walking.
Oh yes, I ran yesterday. All 225 pounds of me MOTHER FUCKING RAN.
IN YOUR FACE, Hashimotos.
In YOUR face.
For the past month, I’ve not felt well physically or emotionally. A few of the symptoms that I had before I begin taking my thyroid medication are acting up again. The main symptom that is giving me the most trouble is fatigue. The simplest tasks are sucking the life out of me and it’s taking a toll in the form of depression and CRYING!ABOUT!EVERYTHING!
I emailed my doctor and asked him for a TSH test, because fatigue is always the number one symptom for me that things are out of whack.
The test came back in the normal range. However, it had tripled since the last time we took it for months. I got an email from him that said “TSH is in the normal range.”
So, I wrote back with the following message:
4/26/09 12:18 PM
I have a question for you. Does the fact that it’s tripled since the last test mean anything? Because I’ve been feeling very tired again (I hadn’t felt that way for a while) And if it doesn’t mean anything now, does the fact the the TSH is going up mean I should best tested again soon?
The endo had said I need to be under 2 because I don’t feel good at ALL if it’s more than that, so if it’s on it’s way up, I’d like to be tested again soon if I continue feeling this way.
Your advice is appreciated.
I received the following message from him just now:
est was normal TSH 04/24/2009
Tsh will fluctuate over time.
No concern – no need to repeat .
That may sound reasonable to you, but.. couple of things.
This is the same doctor that told me I had normal TSH levels for almost 2 years, not taking into consideration all of my symptoms. Also, not taking into consideration that I had tested positive for the TPO antibody (which meant that I had Hashimoto’s.)
“Get on the treadmill!”
“You lose hair as you age!”
“Try Weight Watchers!”
Those are all things I was told when I mentioned that I thought I was hypothyroid. And when I finally convinced him to test me again. WHOOPS! What do you know! You have an autoimmune disease that is killing your thyroid! (Also: And I QUOTE “Congratulations! You get to take thyroid medication now.”)
The point is this. I have symptoms that warrant a better response than “your numbers are normal, get over it.” I’ve been dealing with this for a long time now. I know my body. I know when things aren’t right. And the proof is in the fact that the ONLY reason I was ever diagnosed with Hashimoto’s is because I persisted even after he told me I was “fine” and just needed “a good weight loss pill.”
My endocrinologist isn’t much better, although I do give him credit for agreeing to keep my TSH on the low side of the normal range.
My point is that my doctor is blowing me off, yet again, telling me that my numbers are number with ZERO concern about my symptoms. And it makes me so angry that I could punch the whole world in the vagina.
Edited to add:
I know, SWITCH DOCTORS ALREADY, right?
Here’s the thing. I have an HMO. It’s not as easy as just switching doctors. And I can’t afford to pay for a doctor out of pocket. Also? I have an endocrinologist, but guess what? He sent me the following email in October:
“Ms. Y- good news! Your most recent thyroid test was completely normal. I recommend that you continue the current dose. You should now have a thyroid test done approximately once a year, which can be done by your primary MD.”
THAT is why I’m seeing my family doctor again. Because that’s how my HMO works. I mean, don’t you think if it were as easy as “getting another doctor” I would do it? It’s complicated, hence my frustration with the situation. Further complicating the situation is that he’s been a great doctor in every other circumstance, especially with my children. I mean, overall, I think he’s a great doctor. Just not when it comes to my thyroid. So, again. Complicated.
I have a confession.
I’ve not been to the gym since writing this post. I know that was not very smart health wise, but mentally, I needed the break.
So I just stopped.
I was overwhelmed with what feels like a losing battle. I was frustrated beyond all words. Did you know that I was having the EXACT SAME STRUGGLE with this last year at almost the exact same time?
This is what I wrote on April 23 of last year.
July 2006 (after having lost 70-ish pounds following the birth of my 3rd child)
April 2008 (4 months after finally being diagnosed with Hashimotos, even though I told my doctor and anyone who would listen to me that there was something wrong with my thyroid a year and a half ago.)
I can’t even begin to express how frightening that number is to me, nor can I express how depressed I am after doing a little research on “how to lose weight with Hashimoto’s.”
(You can read the rest of the post here.)
Here I am, a year later, facing the exact same problem (and also the exact same weight. Minus one pound.)
An entire year with no change, no matter how hard I’ve tried. No matter how many trips I’ve made to the gym or how many mother effing Weight Watchers points I’ve counted. No amount of positive thinking or attitude adjustments can change the fact that this shit is frustrating.
ALL CAPS FRUSTATING, even.
However, this is how I see it now that I’ve had a few weeks away from the gym. I have two choices in this situation. Give up entirely or dust myself off and try again.
I’ve decided on the latter.
EVEN IF I never lose another pound. EVEN IF I am this size forever. EVEN IF.
So, I will be back in the gym (Rumba!) tonight. And starting on Saturday, I’ll be back in Weight Watcher meetings. I do believe there are things that I can do different, things I’ve not yet tried, that can be helpful. I’m going to explore the other options, like, you know, riding a bike! I don’t know, something. I need to shake my routine up, for sure.
I have decided I’m going to actively blog my weight journey on this blog again. I had to close down the weight loss blog because a full time job + 3 kids + 1 horn-ay husband + a dog = only time for 1 blog and even then, not really time for 1 blog.
My hope is that next year, when I read back on this entry, I will be able to say “I’m so glad I didn’t give up.” because I will be healthier, stronger and happier.
A few weeks ago I found myself sitting in a cold room in urgent care waiting to have x-rays taken. I had been involved in a car accident and wanted (needed) to make sure that all discs in my back were okay and not going to start bulging again anytime soon.
I speak from experience when I say that bulging discs are NOT FUN.
Before the doctor took the x-rays, he asked me a few standard questions.
“Are you pregnant?”
“Any chance you could be pregnant.”
“When was your last menstrual cycle.”
I had to think about that one for a minute. It had been a while since I had one, but I hadn’t really given much thought to HOW long. So, I did a little mental math (winners do the math!)
“I’ve not had a period since October.”
What the hell, My Body?
The doctor stopped typing on the computer, looked at me and said “And you’re NOT pregnant?”
“Nope.” I said, all sure because… VASECTOMY! HASHIMOTOS! NO POSSIBLE WAY!
“Well, I’d like to give you a pregnancy test before we take the x-rays just to be sure.”
“That’s fine.” I said, getting a little nervous now because ALL THINGS ALL POSSIBLE THROUGH CHRIST.
He handed me a cup and was all “go forth and pee in this here cup. Once we get the results, we’ll send you downstairs for x-rays.”
A little fact about me: I hate peeing in The Cup. When I was sick as a teenager, my mom took me to the doctors and brought my best friend along. I had to pee in The Cup so they could check for a bladder infection. I went into the bathroom, did my business and walked out of the bathroom, pee cup in hand. As soon as my mom saw it, she started to laugh. And then my best friend started to laugh. I was all “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING? WHAT IS SO FUNNY?”
Apparently, you don’t need to fill the cup all of the way to to top. “they just need a little bit of pee” my mom said, while laughing at my full cup of pee.
So, to this day, I never know how much is too much. And it stresses me the HELL OUT. Like, I don’t want to under pee and have to do it all over again. I also don’t want to OVER pee and risk the doctors and lab technicians pointing and laughing at my cup. You know? (You’re all “No, I do not know at all whatsoever.)
The pregnancy test came back negative and so the doctor sent me for x-rays. After the x-rays arrived, the doctor sat down in front of me to tell me that everything looked good. I just had some strain and which kind of muscle relaxer would I like?
(Answer: Soma, please.)
But then, he started talking about my lack of a period.
“You really do need to see your doctor about that because not having a period increases your chances of uterine cancer.”
I already knew this based on the last time I saw my gyno for missed periods. And the biopsy had revealed that my uterine lining was too thick and I had been ordered to take some kind of a hormone to make me bleed so that I could shed that lining. I never took those pills because right after I saw her, my periods started coming regularly again and I thought there wasn’t any need to take a pill that increased my risk for BLOOD CLOTS. I have enough health problems as it is. I don’t need to walk around wondering if the pain I feel in my leg could possibly be a blood clot that is going to travel to my heart and kill me!
(Not that I’m a complete freak about things. NOT AT ALL.)
I had forgot all about that fear until this doctor went and brought it up again. The entire way home, all I could think of was UTERINE CANCER. UUUTTERRRINNNEE CAAANNNNCCCCEEERR.
Naturally, I called Kaiser first thing in the morning to try to get an appointment with my gynecologist. The soonest appointment she had available was in May. (!@$%@!!!!) So, I had to do something I never, ever want to do. I had to schedule a “Possibly Have to Look at Your Vagina” type appointment with my family doctor. Who happens to be a man. Who also happens to be related to a friend of mine. And, really, that just adds a layer to the awkwardness that is someone who is NOT MY HUSBAND examining my vagina.
When I arrived at my appointment, the nurse asked me to undress from the waist down. She handed me a sheet to cover my from the waist down nakedness. I sat there waiting for Dr.M with my sheet securely placed so as not to reveal any of my half naked body. He knocked on the door a few minutes later and was all “Hey Y. Nice to see you again.” He begin asking me questions about what was going on (or, in my case, NOT going on) down there and I was all “I haven’t had a period since October and the doctor in urgent care said I needed to see you about that because.. UTERINE CANCER.”
He ordered some test to check my hormones and also ordered a pelvic ultrasound. And then he was said the words that brought peace to my soul. “You just had a biopsy and pap smear done last summer. We won’t need to do that again. Go ahead and get dressed while I order your tests.”
Vaginal Exam AVERTED!
A few days later I was laying on a table in a dark room while a technician put a glob of warm goo on my belly and begin pressing the ultrasound camera all up on my pelvis area. I watched her face closely to see if I could figure out if if what she was seeing was good or bad. Surely, if there were a tumor or something awful like that, it would show on her face. At one point, she looked a little… concerned? “Everything okay?” I asked. “Yeah, I’m just trying to get your bowel out of the way.” I HATE it when my bowel gets in the way. SO annoying.
“I’m almost finished with this part” she said “But your doctor has requested I do a vaginal ultrasound as well. Is that okay with you?”
Really, did she need to ask? I love having giant dildos with cameras shoved up in me by complete strangers!
Except, did you know that they don’t actually insert the camera? But that they ask you to put it in yourself as they’re putting a giant condom on it?
I almost passed out from embarrassment as she handed the Vag Cam over to me and watched me as I ha ha ha you know, hahaa put it in. And because it wasn’t awkward enough, I accidentally made eye contact with her just as I was doing it. I panicked and blurted out “Is that up far enough?” Which, OF COURSE IT WASN’T! So she was all “just a little bit farther.” And I was all “SURE THING!” Things got even more weird when she was moving the camera around inside of me and begin PUSHING ON MY LEG. It took me a few minutes to get that it was her way of asking me to “open them legs up just a little more, please” without actually having to utter the words “spread ’em” out loud.
I can’t think of anything in my life that was more embarrassing than that experience. Not even making a Little Poopie while giving birth to my first son. NOT EVEN THAT.
The good news is that all of the tests came back normal. No cysts or tumors or cancer.
The bad news is that I still have not started my period and they can’t give me one good reason why. I get a little panicky when I think of the 5 months worth of back up all up in my Ute, but my doctor told me not to worry and to just enjoy not having a period. Which, really? Me? Not worry? ESPECIALLY after two other doctors are all “UTERINE CANCER!!!”? I’m trying really hard to relax and “enjoy it” (which… how does one “enjoy” the absence of a period?) But “relaxing” “not worrying” and “enjoying” are not things that come easily to me. Especially when things aren’t working as they should be.
Any tips on how one can go about “enjoying not having a period” will be much appreciated.
My test results have been showing up online for a couple of days now. I’ve stopped googling the results, but I have been checking them out to see if any are flagged “abnormal.” It’s frustrating knowing the results, but not being able to talk to my doctor about them until THE END OF JULY. The ones that I’ve been the most worried about (pap smear/uterine biopsy) are not tests that post online. I was given a phone number to call to check on those. They told me that they’d be ready in 2-3 weeks.
Because I have ZERO patience, I decided to call this afternoon because, you never know! Maybe the results were in early!
I put in all of the information that they asked for and waited.
“You have 6 new test results.” The automated voice said.
“Your total cholesterol was 170.”
I completely forgot she ordered cholesterol tests. I was too focused on the whole “checking for cancer!”
With the exception of HDL being a tad bit high (normal range for women is under 50. Mine was 54) all of my cholesterol was good.
Then, the automated voice said “the pap smear/cervical screening taken on June 24th were….”
My heart dropped into my stomach.
I took a deep breath and waited.
One down, one to go. But honestly? I’m not worried about cancer anymore because from what I’ve read, uterine cancer involves a lot of bleeding. My problem is the exact opposite. Today is three months exactly since my last period.
I still have questions that need to be answered (do I have PCOS? A pituitary disorder?)– but it’s looking more and more like the answer to those questions will NOT be “cancer.” And because I’m sick of negativity, I’m going to rejoice in this one piece of wonderfully, glorious good news. I’d love it if you’d join me because so many of you have given me the support and encouragement that I’ve needed throughout this ordeal. I can’t even begin to thank you enough.