Hey kids,
I've never been one for regular doctor checkups. I just go in on an as-needed basis, and since I usually need attention for one thing or another pretty often, I've never made an appointment to get checked out on a "just cuz..." basis.
Well, my doctor wouldn't renew any of my prescriptions unless I came in to get a thorough work-up, which I did a few weeks ago. Fair enough. But one little checkup has spawned a multitude of other things that need attention:
• My first mammogram (the girls are officially pretty healthy)
• An intra-uterine ultrasound (just to get a little glimpse into why I've been having such heavy periods the past couple years, and yes, this is the ultrasound that requires lube and a condom)
• Lots of bloodwork
• An endometrial biopsy (because the ultrasound revealted a cyst in my ovary, which the ob/gyn seems to think is pretty harmless, and because the lining of my uterus is "thicker than normal")
I had the biopsy yesterday. Prior to the appointment, I had made the mistake of googling "endometrial biopsy." Women around the world all seemed to want to chime in on how dreadful it was. "Worse than childbirth!" cried one. "I had never experienced such exquisite pain in my life!" lamented another. Even the ob/gyn, a very nice young lady whom I'd not met before, told me that she hated to perform these on patients the first time she sees them, because they usually never want to see her again, and this is after kicking her in the face or boxing her ears with their inner thighs.
But, fortunately, I was one of the rare few that hardly felt a thing. Speculum, numbing shot in the cervix, into and past the cervix with something sharp and pointy, scrape-y scrape-y, wash it down, swab it with something to stop the bleeding. Done. It actually felt worse once I was home, because there was a bit of residual cramping and spotting. I took the entire day off from work in anticipation of much moaning and groaning and pain and blood, but in actuality, I felt good enough to stop off at Michael's and Borders on the way home. I felt not an ounce of guilt about not going to work yesterday. Especially since there was an emergency message on my phone when I got home, and I wound up working a couple hours anyway.
But I managed to buy a cupcake caddy for Wavy's little in-class birthday get-together next week. I'm hoping to make these over the weekend:
We'll see. But that is neither here nor there....
So anyway, yesterday's doctor visit. I thought it was going to be bad news about the cyst, but the doctor dismissed those fears almost immediately. She was more concerned about my heavy periods, and outlined six different tacks we could take to get them under control, each more outlandish than the last, with the final solution being a hysterectomy. She asked me to think about all the different things she discussed, and we could re-visit them after the biopsy, or I could even schedule another appointment in a week or so to talk about it. At the end of our visit, I finally just asked her, "So besides being a little anemic, and the fact that it's annoying and inconvenient, what is the downside of heavy periods?" She looked a little surprised, but answered, "Well, nothing really. You can just double up on your iron and there really isn't a downside. You absolutely do not have to do anything at all about your heavy periods."
All righty. I think I've made my choice then, Dr. H! Seriously bummed that wasn't on the top of her list of solutions, but the gracious person inside me wants to believe it was just an oversight.
Whoa. Having another little wave of cramps. 36 hours later! Ugh.
Jakob, on most nights that I get home before you guys are asleep, I'll lay with you a while in bed, and ask you to name off two things you did that day. So I guess the least I can do is tell you guys two things about yourselves in this blog post that is supposed to be at least a little bit about you, and not entirely about me.
Jakob:
1) Another tooth fell out this week. You look like a jack-o-lantern. We really haven't done the tooth fairy thing since they've started falling out, and you haven't pushed the issue, so maybe there really *isn't* a tooth fairy?
2) You're a teller and a writer of fabulous stories. Tonight you wrote me a storybook and left it for me on the welcome mat outside the front door. It was about a couple of girls, Lisa and Dana, who took a cross-country trip through Nevada and Utah and back again, admiring the forests and mountains, complete with elaborate drawings.
Wavy:
1) You've decided that you don't like baths anymore, so you take a shower with me every morning when I'm getting ready to go to work. Very efficient and cost-effective, and just a few more precious minutes that I get to spend with you each day.
2) You've recently graduated to buckling yourself into your carseat all by yourself. And pouring the milk on your cereal. And putting away the towels and washcloths straight out of the dryer. The folding part leaves a little bit to be desired, but otherwise, perfecto.
I took this photo of you the other day when we were at the sandwich shop. You were sitting outside, and I was sitting inside. I imagined the two of you someday as grown-ups, meeting up for lunch, just the two of you. Something I can never in a million years imagine your daddy and Aunt L doing. You love each other so much now, and I hope it will always be that way. I mean, that is the way that's supposed to work, isn't it? I have nothing to compare it to. If I had a brother or sister, I'm sure that's how I'd want it to be.
Enough. More soon. There are changes afoot. Good ones, I assure you. Love you both, sleep tight.
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