...and I did get Ultrasound II, Return of The Killer Ultrasound results back; both of my ovaries – Millicent and Melisande – have cysts on them; Millicent, who apparently never quite got the hang of this ovulation thing, still has the same ol’ cyst which is probably a chocolate cyst, and it is not much larger.
This means that Millicent has a hard time letting go.
Literally.
Now Melisande (my favourite; if one can have favoured ovaries, Melisande is it.
All my non-idiot children will come from Melisande – if they come at all – paternal contributions aside, that is) has a cyst of her own, about the size of a walnut.
Significantly smaller than the cyst on Millicent (Millicent’s previous cyst grew to be almost the size of a man’s fist, and squooshed the crap out of Millicent), my gyn is fairly confident that Melisande’s will diminish with staying on the Pill, and we are hoping Millicent’s will start to go down.
C’mon, Millicent. Get with the fucking program.
Butsoanyway.
I did ask about changing my pill to something else in case doing that might make me less psychotically horny, but my gyn said that it should go away (I have had this discussion before; it doesn’t), and would likely happen with any pill, so it makes no sense to switch (per her) and maybe ovulate even once and make Melisande or Millicent’s cysts get bigger. Ok, fine.
[Ed. Note: I have never gotten around to putting together post pages thingy-stuffs that will re-direct you to another page of you want to hear about stuff, and let you just read the other stuffs and skip the link if you don’t, so…sorry. I am going to deviate for a sec, but then we are back to more girlstuffs. You have been warned.]
Oh, I am *finally* getting to see Night at the Museum, and so far it is awfully cute; I think that, although Mickey Rooney’s character is cute, they would have done better with Burgess Meredith. Were he to be still alive, that is; as-is, maybe not so much.
Butsoanyway. Back to girlstuffs:
I do like my gyn, by the way. She is new to the area, and specialises in pelvic pain; she just came from a research university, and I pulled some of her papers. I was not expecting to, but I really like her; in between the physical therapist she has me seeing, the exercise classes, and the dope (eventually I’ll be off da dope, but not just yet; I am still taking ibuprofen and Tramadol…only now I have my own prescription for the Tramadol, ‘cos I was using the uberbottle Mummers gave me, and ran out of that. I am also supposed to be taking klonopin at night at the very least so that I can ‘sleep appropriately’, and during the day ideally per my gyn, but…I don’t. I lie and say that I do, but…I don’t. I do not mind alleviation of pain, but I do not like being tranqued. What in the fuck am I going to do in case of zombie attack if I am all tranqued? Huh? Answer me that, willya? Dr Gyn was wholly non-accepting of my Tranqued = Red Shirt in the Landing Party argument, so I lie. Though I do occasionally take a quarter or a half of one at night because I am supposed to), I am doing one thousand times better than I was this time last year, as in I can move freely and do not have to sneak off to burst into tears for No Real Reason. I have not gone into a lot of this with many people ‘cos there is not a real reason to, plus most would not understand. Plus even more do not give a fuck.
But this is my blog, and we don’t care about them, now do we?
I didn’t think so.
Butsoanyway, now we get to the interesting part. My physical therapist (well, I do not know who it actually started with, but let’s blame her ; my new gyn and the whole group are in the process of establishing a women’s clinic for this sort of thing, so they are all in cahoots as far as I am concerned) got the bright idea that I needed to add counselling to my regimen, and so now I have pressure on all four corners, so…I am. Sigh. It is essentially because they are of a mind that there is this interwoven stuff between mind and body, blah, blah, blah. It sounds newage-y (that’s newage, as in ‘rhymes with sewage’), but it is not really like that. I get what they are saying – that with most women, there are psychological habits and whatnot that need to be eliminated. So ok, fine.
Like I have time for this; it has been all I can do to free up early mornings for pilates, core class and therapy. Feh.
Thing is, I am having trouble talking to anyone anymore. Sure, I have a ton of stuff that I could ramble on about, but…why? It really does not matter; maybe things will get better, maybe they won’t; either way, I guess I have to go chat to make everyone happy. Okay, so I finally wrote something here about it.
Feh.
.
