Anger Management

Given how much fun it is to read about other people's bodily functions and maladies, I am sure you all are dying to hear the latest on my medical woes. Actually I am pretty sure you're not, which is one of the reasons I have held off on posting about it. Seriously, if you want, come back in a couple days and I'll have some pictures of the kids or I'll tell you how my tooth fell out again and we've had another  3 rounds of RSV.

 Fair warning to my gentleman readers, the following post contains the word "period" and I'm not talking about punctuation.

My doctor shoved a little camera through my belly button three weeks ago looking for possible endometriosis. As I was waking up, she told me that she couldn't see any diagnostic signs of it but said that my insides looked "angry".    All of the blood vessels over the entirety of my abdominal cavity and organs were exposed and inflamed. When she touched them they would immediately swell and turn red.  She said she'd never really seen anything like it. Which, let me tell you, is not my favorite thing to hear from a doctor. Thus the biopsy was taken in hopes of figuring out what was the cause of all of this.

 I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't slightly anxious over the biopsy.  Most likely everything is fine.  Really.  But  little ugly thoughts kept creeping around in my brain.  It only takes the smallest threat to my mundaneness to make me cherish it that much more and entertain semi-disturbing thoughts. Yes, I know I have issues.  Probably more than Good Housekeeping. But having been knocked off my feet for a few days to recover, combined with my ugly worries, did lead me to more rational thoughts like these,

 I want to change diapers! I want to make school lunches! I want to clean up the toy room! Yes, I know I totally groaned and complained about that stuff last week, but now, now, I want to! I need to!


So I waited my week.  I chased away the creepers with little mental prayers.  As you can imagine my google queries for "angry insides" didn't garner much, which is probably for the best.   But truly, my insides did feel angry and over the last two months that anger was no longer limited to a once a month phenomenon.  I was so ready to talk to the doctor, because no matter what the biopsy said, my insides would not let me forget their wrath.  I'm pretty sure if I choose natural childbirth next time, it won't be that bad, considering all of this extra practice I've been getting breathing through pain.

When the time came, I called the doctor's office.  The receptionist told me the beautiful words, "Your biopsy results are normal." And that brought some welcome relief.  I told her I still had some questions, though, so when the medical assistant called me back and started the conversation with "Your biopsy results are congruent with endometriosis."  I was a little confused.  Honestly, still relieved though, because after the week of wondering and waiting, endometriosis actually sounded awesome.  It only took a few moments of a useless question and answer session for both of us to agree that me talking with the doctor was the best course of action.

So I waited another week for my chance with the doctor.  Two days before my appointment the pains significantly decreased and I actually started to feel better.  I even considered cancelling.  But I went ahead.  She showed me the print out from the lab which said something to the effect of "the cellular structure was consistent with endometriosis but not entirely diagnostic."  And below that,  the words "benign smooth muscle".  She explained that they can not be positive that endometriosis is what I have, but there is a great likelihood I do.  And also that the increased vascularity could be my body's way of presenting endometriosis.  I explained my other concerns, mostly that I still had been having a lot of pain.  Eating and digesting were no longer pleasant and barely hanging on to tolerable. She concluded, "There is definitely something else going on" and referred me to her friend, a gastroenterologist.  Despite that, I left the office feeling very reassured and pretty good in general. In fact, I decided in my mind that I was done feeling bad.  This thing was over or at least on its way out.  I planned to give myself a  week or so, before even thinking about calling the GI doctor.  I bought a plane ticket to Europe.

And then two days later, my period showed up and I found myself dialing the GI's number as fast as I could.    I got an appointment for Thursday, and I'm willing the hours to pass as quickly as possible.  I don't care if she sticks a scope up my hiney.  I don't care if she makes me take medicine for the rest of my life.  All I know is that I want the visions of colostomy bags, and mismatched, motherless children, out of my mind. I want the pain over with, I want to eat and like it, I want my 29 year old body back, and I want my mom and I to be wandering the canals of Venice at the end of march with all this stuff only a distant memory.