Well, the doctor’s stuff turned out… OK. I’m trying to be positive (well, I don’t really have to try that hard – maybe I just haven’t really thought about it that seriously). It’s not terminal or fatal, and it won’t really affect my day to day life very much at all. I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). It could be worse. I could be dying. I could have to have surgery. As it is, all I have to do is take a pill every day. That’s not that bad. I think I freaked the doctor out a little bit, because I didn’t have any questions and I didn’t seem too worried. It’s just that, well, I’ve always thought that I would adopt my kids and that I wouldn’t be able to give birth to them, and I’ve always wanted boy children (who are just carriers of this genetic disease). said she always thought she would adopt too, but she didn’t.
I’ve got my Music from the Coffee Lands CD in – they’re singing in Spanish. This is what it sounds like to me:
el mismo cabon la forsfa /
el muna foralan porlna /
el pornas le preguntas /
soy entraboynadertandato /
estas la minongas cha cha cha /
I don’t think that’s what they’re saying. Still, it’s a good CD. I just don’t think I’m ever going to get Spanish. That could be a big hindrance to moving to Panama.
I no longer want to harm any of my roommates. Or their relatives or friends who call. Because, well, quite frankly, there are more important things in this world, and I’m tired. My labs came back – the nurse called and so I had to return the call when I got home from work yesterday. I spent easily five minutes being transferred around until they found the right nurse and then waited for her to come on the phone. She said my labs came back and they were, quote, WEIRD. Thanks so much for clearing that up. What does it mean? Oh, no need to get freaked out, we’re just going to send you to a specialist and let me transfer you to the receptionist right now to set that up. Great. Thanks so much for making it easy. But wait. That’s right. My appointment is in a week and I DON’T KNOW WHAT MY TEST RESULTS ACTUALLY WERE. Am I dying? I everything OK? (Obviously not) Am I broken? More importantly, am I fixable? Who is this yahoo that they’re sending me to? I went to the HealthPartners‘ website to look him up and his bio said that he reads medical journals and likes to inform his patients of new things that are going on in the field. Yippee. I’m glad my doctor can read and might actually try to help me. That is not the kind of information I was looking for. His picture came up as a big box with a little red X in it. Thanks. So now I have to wait a week to see a doctor about whom I know nothing other than that he’s literate and I know nothing about why I’m even going there, other than my labs came back WEIRD. Pardon me if I’m a little high-strung about this. I am glad that I am a permanent employee now and don’t have to worry about health care costs for at least a while. That’s the only bright spot right now. And I have to call tell her what’s going on (or at least the fact that something is going on but nobody knows what yet. Well, the nurse does. So does the doctor probably. But not me. The important one. Envision the world revolving around me right now.).
The doctor’s office called today – they got the results from my labs run last Friday. The nurse didn’t actually tell me what they were, just that they were weird. So they’re sending me to the endocrinologist. The 15th. I don’t want to wait that long. The nurse told me not to worry and that it all made sense (with me not getting my period), but still I’m anxious. I know I’ve said for a long time that it would be OK if I couldn’t give birth to kids. But, that was all theory. Granted, the reason why I went to the doctor was to try to “fix” things if possible while I’m still young and single. If I can’t get pregnant, I’d like to know that before getting married – that’s an important piece of the picture. I’m still scared. Maybe this’ll all be related with the depression? One can only hope to clear it all up in one fell swoop. I’m just nervous and worried, especially that I’m not really prepared for this.
So now I feel bad about being mean to the person on the phone yesterday. Somebody really was dead. A housemate’s stepmom. Long-term terminal, but still.
Can we talk about what should happen to people who call at 4:30 in the morning? This sort of thing should be outlawed. Three times, mind you, the phone rang. I had just gotten to sleep, after being lazy yesterday, skipping work, and sleeping in until noon. So logically I couldn’t fall asleep last night (thereby ruining all benefits of the previous day’s sleep and time off). Finally around 4:15 I drifted off into blissful sleep, only to be woken up by the phone ringing! First they left a message. So I fell right back to sleep. But then, ten minutes later, they called back again. Let the answering machine pick it up, but no, they hung up and CALLED RIGHT BACK!!! So I answered with a “What?!?” as rudely as possible, only to have it be a sibling of a roommate who was looking for them. Like I cared. All I have to say is, there better be somebody in the hospital or some similar sort of emergency that would warrant three 4:30 phone calls.