Re: I'm pretty fucking depressed

On Nov 20, 9:00 am, Jackie Patti <jpa...@xxxxxxxx> wrote:
OK, last week, my readings went wonky for no particular reason. Since I
was trying to get a thorough set of readings for my endo appointment
tomorrow, I was somewhat perturbed.

I was also getting weaker and less able to do things and it just started
to seem like I was going backwards. By the end of the week, I started
getting depressed - feeling like my recovery was stalled.

Probably just a bug, but it was discouraging.

So yesterday, I had an appointment with a gynecologist and it just blew
me away completly and I am now having a meltdown. Males can quit
reading here if they are easily squicked. ;)

I'm overdue for a Pap and a mammogram, but the main reason I was going
in was cause I had an ultrasound back in August and they saw
adenomyosis, which is endometrial tissue growing into the uterine wall.

The main reason I had the ultrasound was cause I had a period in July, 3
years after my last period and I'm therefore presumably postmenopausal
so not supposed to have periods. Frankly, I thought the internist was
overreacting, I had the CABG in June and figured my body had just
generically been shocked or something. I didn't think a period was a
big deal, in fact, I didn't even mention it to the internsit, Steve did.

After the ultrasound, I looked up adenomyosis and it said it didn't need
treatment if it was asymptomatic so I didn't think it mattered much and
wasn't hurrying about it.

The gyn says it's a big deal. Says the internist was negligent in just
doing an ultrasound, that I need an endometrial biopsy. He says that
the main reason women don't die of uterine cancer is because they know
to check after the one primary symptom, which is unexpected bleeding.

I had cervical issues in my thirties. I had a bad Pap smear, a bad
follow-up biopsy, then a LEEP surgery in a doctor's office with a bit of
cervix removed. The following year, I had a repeat, bad Pap, bad
biopsy, outpatient surgery through a hospital gyn clinic with a bit more
cervix removed. At the time, I was been told it was HPV-caused cancer.

My new gyn says it wasn't cancer, says if it was cancer, they'd have
done a hysterectomy. I distinctly remember being told it was cancer,
when I freaked out about the second surgery, one nurse told me I'd *die*
without it. So I dunno what the hell that means.

I also remember the biopsies hurt like hell. I'd been told they
wouldn't and that I could drive myself. Since I was a single mom of a
small child, I went ahead and did so. I barely got myself home and
then spent several days in bed in pain due to cramps. So the biopsy
wasn't nearly as "not a big deal" as they had said.

I have this biopsy scheduled for Dec 17th. It's an endometrial biopsy,
which I presume means they are going through the cervix to get some
stuff from the uterus itself. I can't see how it'd be *less* of a
problem than a cervical biopsy, so expect I shouldn't try to drive
myself. Since Steve is on the road, I guess I'll take a cab. No big
deal.

Unless I fail the biopsy, in which case this guy is gonna wanna yank my
innards out. That should really jumpstart my recovery, having another
major surgery.

I am starting to believe that I'll never feel good again.

The gyn also said it was very unusual for them to see adenomyosis on an
ultrasound so he wants the report. He also wants me to track down the
old medical records from when I did or didn't have cervical cancer,
which was almost 15 years ago in another state.

I know doctors who overdo hysterectomies are a possible problem, so
dunno if this guy is right or not. I know I can Google and learn gobs.

OK, I already knew about diabetes. I learned about insulin when I first
got home from the hospital. Then I read and studied up on heart
disease. Then I began reading about endocrine disorders and I'm not
done with that study yet. Right now, my overwhelming feeling is that I
do NOT want to learn about uterine cancer.

I left the gyn's office and went for an unscheduled grocery shopping. I
bought all frozen crap: cheese sticks, breaded chicken strips, pizza
rolls and garlic bread, decided that stuff didn't look unhealthy enough,
so added a Pepperidge Farm chocolate farm layer cake. I had a big pity
binge for myself last night. There's still gobs of leftover junk here;
I could start my own chapter of the ADA. ;)

I haven't decided anything for today yet - if I'm going to keep being
stupid or get back on track. I've been up for 4 hours and haven't
eaten, measured my bg, bp or temperature, taken any Lantus, or my other
meds, nada. I just had a cup of coffee and several phone conversations
with hubby. I've missed the Y and ought to grocery shop for
Thanksgiving too today, but am not feeling much like it.

I haven't begun calling around to track down all these medical records
yet either. I'm not entirely sure if I give a damn. My body seems
damned determined to *** me over, no matter what I do, so I'm not sure
if I wanna fight anymore.

I told hubby if I am gonna die any damned way, I want to go out on a
diet of hot fudge sundaes washed down with coffee with *extra* caffeine
while chain-smoking and no one had better dare bring a vegetable
anywhere near me.

--http://www.ornery-geeks.org/consulting/

Jackie,

You may correct me if I'm wrong, but I keep getting these vibes that
what you really, really HATE is being at the mercy of the medical
profession. How do I know? Because I do too. Nothing makes me feel
more defeated than the fear I might have to rely on someone who isn't
going to be competent--not to mention that a lot of medical procedures
are just plain undignified. Hell, I was a medical lab technologist,
so I know that to the people who perform said procedures it really
isn't any big deal, but if I have to go to the doctor, I get the worst
case of white coat syndrome. Logic just doesn't work here.

Now, having said that, get the test. If you know what you're dealing
with, you're going to feel better. It might not be a big deal. And
even if it something that the doctor thinks requires surgery, it
doesn't mean you have to go along with him/her.

In other words, don't suicide on chocolate fudge until you've got the
facts.

Best regards,
Michelle C., T2
diet & exercise
.