The Medical Blogosphere

Hi, my name is Amanda, and I'm addicted to medical blogs.

It all started quite innocently. I was reading over at The Lactivist and clicked on a... midwifery blog, I think? Or maybe it was a link from a commenter on her blog. From there I found Fat Doctor, Emergiblog, and a host of other medical blogs I enjoy reading.

I sit here glued to the freaking computer, checking for updates from my favorite doctor, nurse, midwifery, and other healthcare field folks.

One reason is that I've always been fascinated by medicine. I first thought about being a nurse when I was little, but my parents kept saying, "No, no, you want to be a doctor!" No, no, wrong, I wanted to be a NURSE. But that wouldn't have made my parents happy so I pretty much dropped that.

Hey, I was five.

I considered nursing again as an adult, but ended up deciding against it for two reasons. Number one, I'm lousy in math and science. I mean, I can do them (in spite of my English degree I got A's in Calculus I and II, Physics I and II, and statistics), but the utter complete agony that is involved in pounding those many factoids through my brain is just not bearable.

As for number two? Well, I'd left teaching for many reasons, but one of the top reasons was that I was sick and tired of being a trained professional who was treated like a babysitter and likely paid worse. I was disgusted by having to adhere to mandates passed down by the state (with no funding, natch), that were determined by people who had never even set foot in a classroom. I was seriously burned out, and was able to remember that when the nursing school recruiter ran into me while I was studying for physics and tried to suck me in. I was tempted... oh, was I tempted! But then I remembered what I'd just left, and I knew I'd be walking into similar frustrations and burnout if I entered nursing... different atmosphere, same, "All stressed out and no one to choke" issues.

(Aside: so naturally, upon re-entering the workforce, I entered the field of legal secretary, specializing in the areas of criminal, family, and dependency law. I am obviously an idiot. But I'm much better now! Ah, relaxing, boring architecture, how I love you.)

But anyway, instead, I feed my medical addiction by reading medical blogs. And what happens? The big nasty adminstrative decisions whap out and smack me on my butt even here! I'd heard of Barbados Butterfly, a well-known medical blogger who had to quit blogging after the administration at her hospital identified her. Fears of "patient confidentiality violations," even though all details were changed. But surely that wouldn't happen to any of "my" blogs!

Right. This past Wednesday Fat Doctor (a marvelous famine resistant general practitioner who also happened to be a new-ish mother and a stroke survivor) closed her blog because a co-worker had found her blog, printed out the entire thing (someone had way too much time on his or her hands... asshat), and handed it to her boss. Her boss was fine with it, but fear of other repercussions led Fat Doctor to close her blog. ARRRGH! I will miss her. I will miss hearing about her son, about her practice, and I will miss how reading her blog reminded me that there are good doctors out there. She truly humanized the doctor side of medicine for me.

Which, when you consider the excuse I have to deal with for a GYN? Is saying something.

Then I found out Dr. Flea had also closed his blog. Now, the man's in the middle of a medmal trial and that might be why, but still... I'd only worked my way through maybe only 1/4 of his back entries. I wasn't done! He is a pediatrician and his posts were a hoot. Reading his blog helped me to remember to keep my head screwed on straight when I was panicking over my offspring. But now, his blog is also lost.

Rats, rats, rats, rats, and RATS.

So I continue to read medical blogs, like the ones I've listed, along with Femail Doc, Nurse Ratched's Place, ERNursey, gcgeorge, and a host of others. But I miss the ones I've lost.

Administrators suck. As do lawyers. Except this one, because she rocks.

And because misery loves company.

Quick Note -- Comments

For some reason my comments defaulted to turning off for the new posts. I don't know if Blogger hiccupped or if I accidentally messed up my settings, but it's all fixed now.

Sorry if there was any confusion.

To the Nurses

I'm a bit late on this, but I know I've been whiny about the medical profession recently (mostly my GYN, may he live his next life as a woman with excessively heavy periods and have his own clone for a doctor). Last week was the week to appreciate our nurses out there, and I've really known some good ones. So thanks, all of you.

Thank you to the nurse who wasn't even assigned to me when my first son was born who desperately tried to fit the squat bar to the bed, and when that wouldn't work, had me kneel up against the end of the bed. You helped me feel much less useless.

Thank you to the nurse in charge of my grandmother's care as she lay dying in the hospital of a massive stroke. Thank you for quietly telling me she was going. Thank you for quietly encouraging me to help my mother sign the DNR. And thank you for not looking at me as if I were a freak when my last words to my grandmother were, "Have fun."

Thank you to the nurses who helped me out during my recent ridiculous ER visit. Thank you for not looking at me as if I were a waste of your time, even though I fell under the heading of "Not Needing to be in the ER". Thank you for talking with me and laughing with me. Thank you for giggling when, after you mentioned a lowered sex drive being the result of some anti-depressants, I said, "With all this bleeding I'm doing it isn't as if I'm getting any anyway."

And thank you for waving me on my way and telling me if I was ever bored one night at 2:00, to please stub my toe and come in. It made me laugh, and weirdly, made me feel much less like a nutcase about my freak-out.

And finally, even though I recently whined about her, thank you to my GYN's nurse. Bless your heart woman, you put up with a lot, and yet you're always cheerful, always ready with a joke. And thank you for sympathising with me about my dog's death after the biopsy. It was and is much appreciated.

For all those who nurse, all those who care, thank you, from the bottom of this rather stressed-out patient's heart.

All in a Week

Well, it's been about a week since I updated. Sorry 'bout that. Life happens.

On Monday evening I was desperately trying to come up with some kind of post to put up here and even hit on the old "100 Things About Me" saw.

I hit 38 before Heroes came on and I had to stop. In fact, #38 was that I was saving the post as a draft because I had to watch Heroes.

Hey, it was a thing about me, yanno? I might eventually get it finished and put it up. Then again, it might languish forever in "Save as Draft"-land.

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Obviously, I'm having some trouble putting words to this screen. I'm having trouble reading, even. I have at least five books in progress, reading-wise, and I haven't finished one of them yet. A few are re-reads. A few are new books that on some level I'd like to finish reading, but just don't have the energy to go ahead with.

It's annoying on both the writing and reading fronts.

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I'm still mad at my GYN. I'm coming to the conclusion that the man is an asshole, at least in his interactions with me. Or, as my father would say, he has a serious case of cranio-rectal inversion. After all these tests, after all this bleeding, he couldn't even be troubled to talk to me about what his diagnosis was, on what he was basing the diagnosis, and why he arrived at the two possible courses of action for this issue. No, just have the nurse call, give two "choices... erm... options," and call it a day.

Never mind that lovely analogy she used ("It's like if you wallpaper a room, then decide you don't like the wallpaper so you put up some new over it, then you do the same thing in a few more months... eventually the wallpaper is going to come down in places because it simply can't bear its own weight.") doesn't appear to be applicable in my case. All test results showed a normal endometrium. Pelvic ultrasound showed a normal endometrial thickness. Endometrial biopsy showed a normal endometrium with signs of recent ovulation, dating at day 22 in the cycle. Nowhere in those test results was there a sign that I had a problem that involved an endometrium that had a few too many layers of wallpaper on it.

Never mind that, when I objected to bleeding even MORE than I already was, she just blew me off.

Never mind that I was never even given any type of diagnosis.

I did the math yesterday. Out of the past 90 days, I've bled for 49 of them. FORTY-NINE. That's well over half. And this is considered not worthy of even having my doctor speak with me regarding his findings. No, I get the wallpaper analogy.

Good grief.

Blogger

While basking in widgets, I somehow managed to put my blogrolling thingie up twice. Now I can't edit the extra one out, because Google says I'm a virus.

Marvelous. And all I was trying to do was put the blogrolling widget above the bloglog widget, but somehow it replicated itself instead.

Bleah.

I'm going to ignore this for awhile and try to fix it later. There's more weirdness with the "add page element" option sometimes not showing up when I'm trying to edit these thingies too.

I've said it before: this unholy alliance between Google and Blogger MUST END!

Update: I got it fixed. FINALLY. Whew. Now I can add folks to my blogroll. Widgets, I'm telling you... they rock!

Upgrade

Well, I upgraded to the new template. The layout's still looking weird to me (not quite "home", yanno?).

I daresay I'll adjust.

I'm also fiddling with some widget-y things, and am seriously contemplating putting up some links as Fat Doctor and a few other of the med bloggers I visit have got to be tired of my "stalkerish" stuff wherein I open their page to get to another page I know they have linked because I'm too fracking lazy to make my own links.

Now if I can just figure out how to insert URLs into posts...

Dignity

Our Daniel is a very dignified cat. See how dignified he is?



Now picture this animal with pink spots. Which he now has due to some "creativity" on the part of the four-year-old.

Hee!

I'm such a bad cat mommy some days.

Wait...

I just looked back at my "It Seems Griping Works" post. My ultrasound showed NORMAL endometrial thickness.

So why is my doctor proposing a drug that will knock out the "thickened" uterine lining to the walls?

What happened to the "normal" endometrial thickness?

I don't get this.

AT ALL.

Biopsy Results

The endometrial biopsy results are in. The results show evidence of ovulation and dates as day 22 of the cycle.

It was really day 36 of the cycle, because I have my ridiculous Excel chart, but hey, who's counting? Besides me. And my doctor, I assume, because he has a printout of the thing.

My doctor's nurse told me the doctor said that this means I'm still ovulating so my issues aren't hormonal in nature.

Huh. I'll have to look up what affects ovulation. I thought it was hormonal, as the pituitary gland stimulates adolescence and all the wonders of menstruation, but I'm not a doctor and I might be either remembering this incorrectly or interpreting matters poorly.

If anyone wants to clarify this for me, just in a general sense, go for it. Please.

They asked when the first day of my period was. I told them about the "bleeding since the biopsy but in ever increasing amounts culminating in the bloodbath Wednesday evening" thing, so the nurse told me my doctor has picked Wednesday as the start of my period. Kind of what I thought. What sucks about this is that if this period goes as the last one did, I'll have been bleeding for four weeks by the time the bloody thing is over. But only three count as my period.

Eyeroll.

I was also told, by the nurse, that I had two choices... erm... options (yes, she switched words): I can either continue to chart for the next three or four months and get another appointment in July or August -- for what purpose I was not told -- or I can take something called "Agestin" which will basically act as a chemical D&C over the course of several months and slough off the endometrium until we're left with a normal uterine lining.

So mine's abnormal, apparently, which I figured but was not told in so many words. Probably because a trained ape could figure that one out, considering the circumstances. But why is it abnormal? I don't know. No one told me. I'm assuming that it's thicker than standard, due to the chicken-liver-sized clots I shed at times. But why is it thicker than normal?

No answer. No chance to ask the question.

Now this Agestin will likely result in "heavier than normal" periods for the first couple of months. Ah, heavier than normal! What, for the average female? Or for me? Because in case you weren't paying attention, they ARE fracking heavier than normal already. The every-hour-tampon-change for 24-72 hours at the onset of the period? Is standard in my life. Normal, for me.

Any heavier than this and I am going to need a transfusion.

And I never did get to talk to the doctor.

At this point I'm doing a few things.
A) I'm gong to keep charting for the next few months rather than go on the Agestin. I can't handle any heavier bleeding than I'm dealing with right now. Not and remain functional in day-to-day life.

B) I'm going to draft a letter to my GYN with my questions. And I'm going to re-draft and re-draft it so it doesn't sound whiny. Just the queries and a request for answers.

C) I'm going to decide whether or not to send this letter.

D) I'm going to look into getting a second opinion. My doc has his merits, but he's never bled like this in his life. His (to me) lassiez faire attitude about the unpredictability, duration, and volume of flow of my periods doesn't show any concern let alone understanding of the impact this has on my life. Holy cow, if nothing else, how in the world am I going to ever have sex again? Yes, we've all (okay many of us) done "the deed" when conditions were less than optimal, but seriously, this is ridiculous.

I'm at a loss. And yes, angry again. I've tried to temper this entry, but won't be sure how well I've succeeded until I read it in a week or so.

Excuse me, I need to go buy another 40 count box of super-plus tampons.

Ugh.

The Tide is In

Notes:
#1 - Hi there, Angel! Glad to see you're out there in the blogosphere. And yipes, migraines suck. I'm whiny enough just bleeding most of the time. We definitely need to talk!

#2 - Speaking of bleeding, stop here if you don't want to read about the subject line. Yes, more of the bloodbath. You have been warned.

Anyway, yep, it's definitely my period. No wonder I'm lucid. Got up twice in the night to change super-plus supplies and back-ups of same.

Make that lucid but sleep deprived. Slightly grumpy, too.

I had to keep running to the bathroom at work every hour or so to take care of "matters" as well. This is especially obnoxious as I'm the prime telephone answerer, so any time I leave my desk I have to ask someone else to catch the phones. Therefore, any observant coworker with too much time on his or her hands can chart my time of the month.

I await the inevitable office pool with bated breath.

Cramping is running between a 1 and a 3 on a pain scale where zero is no pain and ten is pain comparable to feeling that my pelvis is going to fracture, like the way it felt when I was pushing out the younger offspring. This is nothing like that; ergo, it's not enough to cause me to lose any sleep... just annoy me when I'm awake. I'm actually allergic to Aleve (took it for a year back when it was by prescription only for cramps, then started getting hives), Tylenol doesn't touch the pain, and aspirin when I'm already bleeding seems, well, counterintuitive, yanno? And narcotics would definitely be over the top for a petty annoyance like this...

So yes, grumpy. That would be me.

My doc told me to let them know the start date of my period when they call to give me the results of the biopsy. Guess I'll call them with that info tomorrow, per their instructions, since I haven't heard from them yet and it's officially been a week.

I swear, I must have one of the only bodies out there that can lose blood this steadily and NOT have the sense to be anemic. Sheesh.

Uhm...

I've noticed many of my recent past posts have been pretty angry sounding. That's one reason I keep this blog... kind of to keep a pulse on where I am, where I've been, etc. My emotions keep whipping around like nobody's business, and it's driving me nuts (perhaps literally, ick).

To be fair to myself (because I read some of this stuff and was thinking, "Wow, okay, hello Rage Diary!" eek), I've had a pretty yucky time this past month or so, at least for me. On the other hand, other folks have it much MUCH worse.

This reflection is probably because right now I'm in a calm phase. This tells me the continued spotting weirdness is likely not post-biopsy spotting, but rather is my period, as I tend to be much less nutty a day or so after it sets in, and remain that way for around a week. Timing on this is good, because if I were in one of my more whacked-out states I'd likely be freaking out that I still haven't heard about the biopsy. Right now, though? Not a problem. Frankly, no news is good news, in my experience as a patient (I really REALLY have got to remember that when I'm losing my mind over some of this stuff). I'll either hear tomorrow, or I'll call in Friday. And if I call in Friday, it's a pretty safe bet they'll have the results in and have just been slammed at the office.

As a patient I, of course, wish they'd go ahead and call without me having to call in. As an office manager, though, I recognize that there are some days so busy folks can barely find time to choke down lunch. And that's just in architecture, which is rather laid back compared to many other fields, especially medicine. Really, in all fairness, my GYN's office is really very good about this stuff. And my GYN, much as he may aggravate me at times, is a logical, honest, and competent physician. If there were something really wrong and he had the results back, I'd know.

Need to remember to chart that I'm sane at the moment. That's another thing I appreciate about my GYN... he has a great appreciation for my lovely, color-coded anal-retentive menstrual chart that I'm keeping up on Excel, hee. I think it's that I'm one of few people who actually chart these things without being prompted that impresses him, actually, but heck, I'll take what I can get.

That said, I'm still wondering why I'm "She who bleeds and does not die." And I can't help but keep thinking about the menopause thing, FSH results be damned. It's a toss-up between researching on my own some more and risk driving my doc nuts, or hanging in there a bit longer. I'll probably do some of both, and try not to drive either of us crazy/ier in the process.

Updates, Various

I think I hate this past month or so. It's pretty much sucked more than one of those Dyson vacuums (which I seriously covet) is rumored to do... only in a really fracking BAD way.

And Speed, yeah, I'm wondering why parrots live so long and our fuzzy little friends go so quickly. I'm sure there are people out there with parrots who are passionately attached to them and have very affectionate relationships with their birds. I'm likewise sure there is both joy and pain in knowing that your pet is very likely to outlive you, but at this moment in my life? I'd take that over what I'm feeling now.

The same day Little Guy died is the day I had my endometrial biopsy. My doctor did prescribe the Valium (5 mg, 1/2 Wednesday night and 1/2 Thursday morning). He was going to do two, but I'm a total lightweight with meds, so I told them I only needed one. Considering Thursday, I should have kept my big fat mouth shut and just let him give me two. Ah, hindsight.

At least the Valium was well timed, all things considered.

At any rate, it was MUCH less ooky than the cervical biopsy I had 12 years ago. That one involved tissue removal with some sort of snipper thingie, which was decidedly less than fun. This one mostly involved kind of sucking stuff from the endometrium with a straw, to put it in very basic and likely incredibly inaccurate terms. The worst part for me was when he placed the tenaculum to dilate the cervix. The actual biopsy bit wasn't an issue. There was no cramping at all, even though I was warned there would be some as the uterus really doesn't like things going into it (smart uterus!).

What there has been alot of is spotting. And more spotting. And semi-period-ish stuff, followed by more spotting. My last period ended on April 13th, and the biopsy was done on April 26th, so that means I got a whopping two weeks free of sanitary supplies. Yippie freaking ki yay. I'm calling in tomorrow to see if I should still be spotting, or if I should chalk it up to a slow-starting and light-for-me period.

I should have the results back at the end of this week, and am to call in Friday if they haven't called me by Thursday so someone can find out what the hold up is.

In other, happier news, I have three cats! A dear little girl named Emily came to join our family on Saturday.

You can see her Catster page here:
http://www.catster.com/cats/472892

(You'll likely have to copy/paste it because I can't seem to get Blogger's "Insert URL" feature to work.)

We didn't get her because we lost Little Guy. I'd actually been pitching Emily to my husband for a few days prior to LG's decline and demise. Big reason I wanted her? She's a GIRL! And she's a cute snuggly little affectionate feline as well. But most of all: GIRL!

I've been pretty outnumbered by the tripods here. At last count there were three human males, two feline males, and one canine male. And me. Six to one. GACK! But now? it's 5:2. Boo on the downslide to five, but yay on the two!

It did become a bit of a hard call going to get her, considering my Beast's death. I tossed and turned the idea around in my head and finally decided that as I'd been planning to get her prior to that particular event, that I wasn't breaking the cardinal rule of "Never EVER immediately get a pet to replace one that's just died." I didn't get her to replace my boy... no animal ever could replace him, bless his little incontinent heart (I warned y'all I'm a bit inappropriate with this grief thing). I got her because I needed a girl.

And now I have her. Welcome home, Emily. And if you knock Little Guy's ashes off the piano, we're going to have to have a little talk about respect for the dead.

(Uhm, I mentioned inappropriate, right? Yeah.)

My Mind is Blank

I've not been able to write much in the past few days. As you've likely noticed from the previous entry, my geriatric mutt passed away last Thursday. I'm torn between heartbreak and rememberance, and making incredibly inappropriately macabre-humorous remarks, which is my usual method of coping with tragedy. I know he was "just a dog," but he was MY dog, my first, very own, mine-all-mine dog. My boy.

When he was a little puppy he had rather smelly fur. Actually, to be truthful, he maintained the odor of wet mutt throughout his life regardless of the humidity of his fur. But when he was a baby I just couldn't understand WHY he stunk! Then someone told me that, as he was part terrier, terriers tend to have an oil in their skin that kind of keeps the funk going on.

My solution? "Obsession" scented perfume for dogs.

He forgave me for that, fortunately. And I wisely let him maintain his distinctively doggy odor after that little experiment failed.

When he turned five I got misty-eyed as I considered that, if he were human, he'd be heading off to kindergarten in the fall.

When he was eight years old, my elder son was born. Little Guy was so happy with the baby when he was little. He'd sit on the same quilt with him and just relax in the joy of knowing he had his own little piece of Mommy right there with him.

When he was twelve years old and my younger son was born, he knew enough to stay out of arm's reach from the child lest his fur be grabbed in a tiny fist.

For the longest time he didn't show his age much. At thirteen years old, he was bouncing around with the energy of a little puppy, even though he had some mild cataracts. But the past couple of years he's been failing. And finally, early Thursday morning, April 26, 2007, my baby boy crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

Enjoy, Little Guy. Mommy loves you, always.

Crossing the Rainbow Bridge

Little Guy
12/19/90 - 04/26/07

It Seems Griping Works

I can go weeks between posts, months even... today?

Three.

Two posts prior I was whining about not having my test results back. Well, I have them back now. Cyber-whining -- it works!

Anyway, the results:

Pap smear? Normal; friable cervix and "polypoid structure" notwithstanding.

FSH (follicle stimulating hormone)? Normal; no signs of menopause.

Thyroid? Normal.

Pelvic ultrasound? Normal; no masses, uterus size, endometrial thickness, ovaries, fallopian tubes, everything is so normal the nurse asked me if there's ANYTHING imperfect about my bodily functions and structures.

Yay! And huh. Weird.

It's not as if I were wanting there to be something wrong, but I thought maybe I'd get some answers or at least a clue what in the hell is going on with me. I have hot flashes, my are periods beyond weird... I'm going to have to change that damned "prematurely perimenopausal" thingie in the title block... see what happens when non-medical personnel try to diagnose themselves?

So I get to go in sometime soon to have an endometrial biopsy. What this entails, apparently, is the use of a standard speculum (oh yippie), followed by the insertion of a tenaculum (described as a little tube with spikes/ prongs on some part of it) into my cervix. A pipelle (thin tube approx. the size of a tube of ink in a ballpoint pen) will then be inserted, which will cause cramping, and a sample of the endometrial lining will be taken and analyzed. The whole process will likely take as long to do as it took for the nurse to explain it to me. Perhaps we'll get some answers from that. Or not.

I have requested drugs. I had a cervical biopsy once. The doctor then (not this doc -- different state) said, "You don't need anything. It's so fast it will be over before you know it." Asshole. That thing HURT! I'm not going in there without some kind of sedative. I don't think the man wants me going to Hooters and knocking back a few prior to the biposy.

The one thing I gave them problems with was figuring out when to schedule this wonderfulness. They like to do this in the "luteal" phase of the cycle, which if I remember correctly -- give me a break, it's been like 15 minutes since I spoke to them -- is the week before the onset of my period. Question is, when WILL that sneaky little thing opt to show up next?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Oh, and changed the "about me" blurb. Heh.

Degrees of Cuteness

In lighter news: I, apparently, am "cuter than a duckling."

This courtesy of my eight-year-old.

He's a bright child. I'm going to go with his assessment.

Still Nothing

First of all, hiyas Speed! Yes, I'm actually updating this thing again, miracle of miracles. Feel free to comment whenever. In fact, all four of my regular readers (do I have that many?), please comment away!

Now, on to the topic at hand.

Last Monday, April 16th, I went to my GYN about this period insanity. His nurse told me I should hear back on the blood testing in the next day or two. I've heard nothing.

I went in Wednesday for the pelvic ultrasound. They said I should hear something in a week to ten days. They've still got time, but at this point? Nada.

The PAP results should have been in within a week. It's the next Tuesday now. And what have I heard? Zip, zero, zilch.

Most of this wouldn't be a problem as they still have time to get the results in. However, I did call the doctor's office regarding the blood tests. The lady I spoke to that time told me I wouldn't hear for (wait for it) a week to ten days. I told her that I'd been told a day or two on the blood work, and I'd like to know because I needed to know if I was going to live or die -- yes I was a bit stressed. She checked the lab results, said they were all in, and she couldn't figure out why I was worried! Did I have any family with a cancer history? (No) No one who died early inexplicably? (No) Well, I was just fine and I'd hear from them on the results as soon as the doctor signed off on them.

Uhm, excuse me? But the reason I was worried is that my GYN himself appears to be convinced there's Something Very Terribly Wrong with me. THAT is why I was panicky. If he'd just said something like, "Well, you've said that your mother told you she had this same type of bleeding pattern, so perimenopause is a possibility and we'll do testing to see if your hormone levels reflect that. On the other hand, abnormal bleeding can also be a sign of various reproductive disorders (he wouldn't have to use the c-word, and could hold it in reserve in case I asked for specifics... which I would have). You don't have any in your family, but I also want to do testing along those lines to rule anything out."

See how easy that was? No panic, none of this, "I don't think you're pre-menopausal or perimenopausal. There are tests I need to run, because there are... 'things'... that can cause this type of bleeding, and we need to find out what's going on."

I hope it's apparent how his actual portrayal of the facts to me might have, I don't know, FREAKED ME OUT???

I'm peeved, in case you couldn't tell.

I also looked over this post and noticed I've used a bunch of question marks in it. I guess that's appropriate because I am questioning what in the hell is going on here. I don't know why my doctor practically dismissed early menopausal symptoms out of hand when he KNOWS my mother's reproductive history. I don't know why I still haven't heard from them officially on the test results when they know I'm scared shitless. I don't know why the woman I spoke to would even THINK to question me about why I'm freaked.

Holy Jesus God, people.

I'm not just peeved. I'm pissed.

Optimism? HAH!

Right. Remember how optimistic I was that my GYN wouldn't dismiss my thoughts about perimenopause out of hand simply due to my age because, oh, he'd been my MOTHER'S doctor, knew her history, and KNEW her last period was at age 41? And KNEW that she started dealing with this crap around my age, perhaps just a year later?

Feh.

So I go to see the man (who is a moody soul, but was fortunately feeling amusing Monday). And I tell him what's going on and remind him of my mother's experience. I do have serious hopes that he'll actually remember this, as he and my folks are friends outside of the scope of his practice.

Well, he did remember my mother's experience. However, his insightful response to my weird periods? Is that they're "abnormal bleeding" (no shit, Sherlock), and that he doesn't think I'm doing the perimenopause thing. No, no, his ideas seem to center more along the lines of there being Something Really Very Seriously Wrong with me.

I went home and fretted hugely about the "C-word" since I googled all sorts of medical terms like a fracking idiot. But then I remembered my mom saying that he'd also told her she was having "abnormal bleeding" when she had THE SAME THING happen to her, period-wise, around my age (like we think bleeding for three weeks is normal???). And he'd done tests. And two D & Cs. And guess what, kids? It was perimenopause she was going through!

(banging head on desk)

I mean, I like the man, moodiness aside. He's not the most "modern" doc out there, and he's somewhere in his sixties, but he's blunt and to the point. He knows his strengths and his limits, and practices accordingly. I respect him as a professional, or I wouldn't be going to him again. He was in my rotation of OBs when I was expecting my first son (he'd just been doing GYN for several years, but got back into the OB gig for a bit), and was very clear that if I couldn't push the kid out and he was on call that I'd be getting a c-section because a) it had been a long time since he'd done a forceps delivery and he wasn't going to risk me or my son by using forceps when he was out of practice, and b) he wasn't trained in using vacuum extraction, so, well, see the explanation to item 'a'.

Now this didn't really tickle my fancy, but I appreciated that he was so straightforward about matters. And fortunately for me the other OB in the practice (WONDERFUL woman! Loved midwives, used many midwifery model methods in her practice, and was utterly ADORED by the hospital nurses) actually stayed on after her call was over to deliver my son.

With a vacuum.

Thanks to her, I've never had major abdominal surgery. Dr. K, wherever you are, you ROCK.

But anyway, back to my current doc. I'm glad that he's being thorough and checking everything. My GP is so laid back I'm sometimes worried he's comatose, but between the two of them I think I've got a good balance of care. And to be very fair, my GYN is having my pituitary function checked (and something else? the brain, she is fried) to see about the hormonal levels just in case I could possibly be correct and have inherited the tendency to early menopause from my mother.

He's requested the records from my now-rather-embarassing run to the ER, and is doing other bloodwork, some of which I've listed and some of which I haven't due to mommy-brain. Additionally, I'm going in tomorrow for a pelvic ultrasound.

Note: I have a bladder the size of a pea. This should be fun, considering I'm supposed to drink some God-awful amount of water an hour prior to the ultrasound and hold it.

So... we'll see what the tests say. Or if the tests require more tests, which is a strong possibility from my GYN's point of view. What really reeks is that I was wanting to wait to do all this until June, when my good medical insurance kicks in rather than this nearly-useless stuff I have now.

The ER visit changed that timeframe. Now I've just got to keep my eyes on all this while it plays out, and pray it doesn't break the bank.

Or me.

Hormones... bleah.

More on the perimenopause from HELL. Stop reading now if this isn't your cup of tea.

Okay, are we all snuggled in now? Good.

Let me tell you a story of a woman in her late thirties. We'll call her "me" for the sake of accuracy. Well, you'll remember how my last period took 41 days to arrive. That selfsame period also took 22 days to depart, finishing off yesterday.

Last weekend I was experiencing frequent episodes of dizziness. I was worried because I was constantly bleeding, so I started myself off on some iron to help with any deficiencies that could be a result of that.

Monday it just got worse. And worse. To the point where I was having to hold a wall to keep my balance, even. Finally, around 3:00, I told one of my bosses what was going on -- and it's really fun to tell an almost-70-year-old man that you're worried you have a blood loss issue -- and went to the ER. I was honestly terrified that I'd just flat lost too much blood. I'd been anemic toward the end of my second pregnancy, dangerously so until it was caught, so yeah. Concerned, that was me.

So... I parked myself at the ER. The doctor, by the way, was a really neat lady, and a total hoot! She did a quick pelvic (I'd stopped bleeding for a little bit, of course), and then ordered all kinds of fun tests, including hematocrit (sp?) and yet ANOTHER pregnancy test. I also had my heart rate monitored, and had my blood pressure taken lying down, sitting, and standing.

Eventually she came back in and told me that a) I wasn't pregnant (we'd kind of figured that, but it was good to have a second confirmation via blood test), b) my hematocrit was good, and c) that my blood pressure, heart rate, blood sugar, and whatever else they tested weren't just good but PERFECT.

Uhm, okay. Now we know what it's NOT. She recommended I see my doctors. I concurred.

So Wednesday I went to see my GP, told him what had gone on, and he determined that the dizziness was due to an inner ear problem, which he said would likely self-resolve as it had been improving anyway. I think he was right, because I'm not dizzy anymore.

He also asked how my husband was handling the never-ending period, because, and I quote, "He isn't getting to have any fun!"

Sure. Because MY first priority, when I've been bleeding for THREE FRACKING WEEKS, is how my HUSBAND is handling his lack of sex life. Oy gevalt. Bless his little heart.

Next up is my appointment with my GYN on Monday. I couldn't get through to their office on Tuesday, so on Thursday I just went up to the med complex and made the appointment in person. The lady who did my intake asked me if there was a particular problem for which I'd like to see the doc, other than just an annual exam. I explained the whole period-that-wouldn't-arrive-then-wouldn't-leave drama, and she promptly put down that I was having perimenopausal symptoms.

It helps that my GYN is also my mother's GYN, and knows that she had her last period at age 41. I'm a little younger, but Mom also had a baby at 36, so that may have put her off a little, is my guess. So at least we have family history going for me.

We'll see how it goes. I'm optimistic that I won't have to do like many women I've heard about who have to argue with their doctors that, no, they aren't too young for this to be menopause, thankyouverymuch. Yes, it's premature, but it does happen. If it didn't, they wouldn't have a category called "premature menopause," now would they?

After that? Something to stop the damned bleeding. Ye gods, I'm tired of it.

Birthday

Well, I've changed some of that funky stuff up in the title block thingie as now I am officially 37, rather than just "nearly."

Not much to say about the birthday. I took the day off from work, took the kids to daycare (yes, I'm a bad mother), and proceeded to do nothing around the house except wash the dishes and scoop the litter boxes. Beyond that? I sat on my duff and read a book.

It was one of the best birthdays I've had in years. It's also the first day I took off just for me in almost two years. The last time I took a personal day off was just before our wedding anniversary in 2005. I was determined to get our bedroom looking nice, as I wanted the nuptial nookie I was envisioning to take place in a room that wasn't overrun with laundry, kid droppings (toys, people!), and other assorted piles.

Well, I got the room scraped up and proceeded to scrub at some spots on the carpet. This was where I really went wrong, apparently, because as I tried to get up from the floor my back screamed at me.

It continued to yell for the next three days. Nuptial nookie? Yeah, right.

So anyway, happy birthday to me! Hey, it's better than the alternative. Now I've just got to finish that book I started reading.