Got a call from my hematologist this week, who looked over my labs from last week. My iron is at 22 (she wants it to be above 40) and my ferritin is at 5 (she wants it to be at least 10). So I have to have four more rounds of IV iron, starting this Friday. Each infusion takes about an hour or so, which means I get to take my Nook e-reader and enjoy a quiet hour in a recliner hooked up to what looks like a bag of liquified rusty nails.
Back a few weeks ago, my hematologist had ordered a pelvic MRI to determine the nature of some nodules in my groin. Those turned out to be nothing, but they did find that my ovaries were full of cysts. She recommended at that time that I really should see one particular gynecologist about this. I kept putting it off, of course -- I already knew that my ovaries were cystic, and I was just so doggone tired of doctor's appointments and procedures and crap. Well, since then, I have gained about twenty pounds. This is not okay! Granted, I really had gotten a little close to the edge of being too thin (who would've thunk such a thing possible?), but twenty pounds is just not okay in this short of a time. Plus, my face and chest and shoulders and back have broken out in severe acne. So obviously there is something seriously out of whack with my hormones, which would explain the strange weight gain. The gynecologist's office staff is supposed to call me back when they get all my records so we can make an appointment to be seen.
I wish they'd just go in and take all that reproductive machinery out. I really do. It's totally screwing up everything, and it doesn't work properly, and it's a cancer risk thanks to the stupid cysts. Of course, if they did decide to do that, it probably wouldn't be in this calendar year, which screws up the finances even worse. I've already met my deductible for 2010. I wish I'd just gone ahead and made the appointment back a few weeks ago. Grr!
Today, I received my second round of botox injections to treat a fissure that refuses to heal. Fissures and hemorrhoids really are incredibly undignified afflictions.
Tomorrow is a follow-up visit with the GI doctor. He's a nice man, but he gets really freaked-out if I tell him that I'm taking naproxen every day for pain... but he doesn't offer me anything viable as an alternative. Sorry, dude, but Tylenol just doesn't do it. So I keep taking the naproxen, and I just don't tell him. He wants to freak out on me? Let him suffer for A YEAR AND A HALF with an open wound that re-injures every time he goes to the bathroom and delivers knife-like stabs of persistent and unending PAIN. Then we'll talk. Until then? I'm taking naproxen. I swear, it took a fargin' act of Congress to get the man to prescribe a tube of lidocaine so I could find a few seconds without pain every so often. What is so hard about a TUBE OF LIDOCAINE? Can someone explain that to me? I shouldn't even need a bleeping PRESCRIPTION for that.
Can you tell I've not been at my best? [eye roll]
On the other hand, I have generally maintained a cheerful front. I saw a cute saying today: Be as happy as a bird with a french-fry. I like that visual.
And I have decorated my classroom door for Christmas, even though I'm the only one this year (nobody initiated a decorating contest)... it's just lights and student-made ornaments, but it's festive and bright and cheerful and Christmasey. And I've been playing Christmas music in class, which adds to the holiday mood. I'm also putting together a care package for a former student who's deployed in Iraq right now, which has been delightfully fun. Other teachers have contributed to the effort as well.
I guess that's enough of an update for now. Merry Christmas, y'all!