Doc appointment today which wound up being more of a "this isn't really a bad case of PCOS. Here. Have birth control!" sort of thing. Basically, one more thing to add to the rather longer than I like list of Things Wren Has That Are Bad Enough To Have Crap Symptoms, But Are Not Bad Enough To Do Really Anything About. Also? I was there for two and a half hours, and fine, yes, he had to like...deliver a baby or something. Still. In the grand tradition of Mondays everywhere, I was (am) tired and CRANKY and frustrated and still depressed and more than a little disheartened, and mostly just BLAH. BLAH BLAH BLAH.

But, alas, no one is going to be removing parts of That Damn Ovary, so at least I will have money. And birth control. Which means I could totally become a raving sex addict and not worry about babies. Or something. Believe me, being the only woman in a waiting room who didn't already have mewling brats and buns in the oven, it was pretty good birth control in and of itself. There are children I simply adore (and they know who they are *snugglesmissesloves*) but this one particular brat and his stupid parents WHO WERE PROCREATING ONCE AGAIN? -_- Srsly. Just don't. Because you cannot control the one you already have, throwing in another into the mix WILL NOT HELP.

...I dunno. The raving sex addict part sounds sorta fun though. *grin* (Humor me, please. =P)

Changing moment happened with the doc read me the riot act about my weight. If it were so easy to take off weight, I'd not be struggling for as long as I have (namely, 13 years.) But I guess that is something I will have to work harder on. Damn it. ><;; *goes to bed and watches Criminal Minds instead*

Good things, somewhat after the fact... )
awkwardgirl: (Ned D'oh!)
( Jan. 2nd, 2009 11:37 am)
So, after a harrowing trip to the hospital for my oft-rescheduled follow up appointment for my adrenal gland results (watched a freaking idiot tear out of a residental street and then fishtail and spin RIGHT IN FRONT OF US on the icy roads >< talk about heartattack), and getting the surgeon to literally draw me a picture about what they did and to learn IT'S NOT MY ADRENAL GLAND FRSRS THIS TIME NO I REALLY MEAN IT, I was off to make yet another appointment with yet another docter. A specialist ob/gyn, Dr. Towbin's "favorite", for my PCOS. I really really like Dr. Towbin. He didn't push surgery, he totally dumbs down the whole medical thing so I can understand, and he's just a very forthright, caring guy. So, I have my appointment set for Monday afternoon, and will see what this new guy says - whether or not I should take care of the PCOS with drugs (birth control or insulin), or opt for surgery (Towbin mentioned the "wedge" surgery, where they remove part of the ovary that is the most damaged and cyst-filled.) I don't know what I think anymore, but I'm a little depressed (well, a lot depressed, but that is perfectly normal for me =P) over all this. Getting an appointment so soon, though, helped a little. Since I'm doing this NaBloPoMo again this month, TALK ABOUT A WHOLE LOT OF CHANGE. *flops*

My friend, Christina, is taking me out tonight for my belated birthday, so while I'm all emo-ing out to Depeche Mode right now, I hope to snap back into a better frame of mind before she gets here.
I worked 10 hours today, with no lunch break, and my brain? SORTA FRIED, THANKS. *flops* I know that there are those of you out there who do that regularly, AND YOU HAVE MY CONDOLENCES. NO THANKS. Nuh. *grin*

So. Tired. Hungry. Anxious about doing the same thing again tomorrow (14 inches of snow, kids, is not fun unless you are, actually, a kid. *flops*) Was told that we aren't going to open for a half day on Christmas eve, and while the money would be nice? SLEEPING IN IS SO MUCH BETTER. SO YAY.

Got the call from my surgeon's office today about the results from my test at the hospital a week and a half ago: not my adrenals, it is That Damn Ovary. Have had to reschedule this appointment twice already due to ALL THIS FUCKING SNOW, so am hoping that Monday I can actually go in and get this thing rolling. Surgery? I dunno, will have to see.

Last day of being 25. My last year of being in my mid-20's. Oh, I wibble.


awkwardgirl: (Default)


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