[Editor’s Note: the ~ symbol is the one and I use while IM-ing to note that we’re singing something. Less confused now?]
In 65 minutes, my long-awaited dermatologist’s appointment arrives. You know, the one I scheduled 6 weeks ago, when my torso was peeling and had large bright red stripes and I thought I was perhaps the most hideous thing out there, and I itched constantly from my rib cage to my knees? Yeah, well, since then, I found Zyrtec which has managed the itching well (though I still am red and blotchy on occasion), the peeling finally stopped, and the bright red marks went away. I stopped taking Zyrtec last Thursday in hopes that I would get some nice reactions from my soap and lotion to be able to show the doctor, but alas, I have nothing. I don’t even itch today, though I did yesterday.
I have this fear that she’s just going to tell me that I should have scheduled an appointment with an allergist and send me on my way. Let’s hope not – maybe, if nothing else, she can tell me if I have any moles (I don’t think I do, but it’d probably be good to know, cancer-screening and all) and tell me what I need to do to clear up my super-oily skin (I am nearing a decade marker next month that should mean I no longer have acne problems, right?).
But maybe she’ll come up with some magical solution instead. I mean, what I’ve come up with for is pretty hit or miss. Try lotions and see what happens. Take Zyrtec to manage itching (tried Claritin and it didn’t help, and I won’t be trying Benadryl since it makes me loopy). Change lotions, soaps, etc when the old stuff starts making me itch. Avoid perfumes when possible. We’re going to try changing our laundry detergent as well. But really, I’m hoping against hope that there is some magical cream to use that won’t make me itch (even though everything that says “dermatologist tested” or “safe for even the most sensitive of skins” has been worse than normal stuff) or a little pill I can take that works better than Zyrtec.
In other medical news, I’ve decided that it is time for my annual exam (well, in June theoretically). I’ve also decided that it’s possible my recent weight gain is not actually my fault but could be another symptom of my PCOS. It seems that part of the insulin-resistance symptoms (that occur gradually over time, often appearing in adolescence but sometimes not until later) include weight gain, primarily around the waist, not the hips. Well, that’s me. All 12 pounds that I have gained are exactly in my waist (well, except the one pound in my bra, and I’m not giving that up unless I absolutely have to). I’ve ordered some books from the library on PCOS and diet and insulin-resistance, but I will also be talking to my doctor about this (my new doctor, who doesn’t even have a name yet, and I may actually decide to choose a different clinic instead since having one in Eagan doesn’t really make sense if we’re moving to Richfield). And in all likelihood, my new doctor will tell me to go see the reproductive endocrinologist or whatever the Fairview system calls them, and then all sorts of fun can begin, like new tests being run (thank goodness they’re blood tests and nothing too painful) and phone calls from nurses that say “your test results are weird – you should schedule an appointment….”
So maybe I’ve spent a little too much time online today reading about reproductive issues. Again, since it seems this is a dead horse that still needs to be beaten, I’m not pregnant nor am I trying to be pregnant. But my internal girly parts are a little confused sometimes and have to be beaten into submission, and my high male hormone levels do some weird things, and all in all I’d like to be as reproductively healthy as possible so that I don’t feel compelled to try to get pregnant earlier than I really want to just because it might take a long time. Does that make sense? Basically, I want it to be OK that if I’m not ready to get pregnant until I’m 34 (for example), I don’t decide at 32 that maybe we should start trying in case it takes us a billion years to get pregnant and then it happens without any difficulty and all of a sudden I’m a mom earlier than I want to be. Or… something like that. Really, I want to have as much choice and as many options in the matter as possible.
If you’re looking for a good way to waste an hour and find gynecological humor, well, funny, then check out this recent post on a little pregnant, specifically the comments section, (men, you probably just want to avoid that site in general).