An Update

I went to the doctor yesterday regarding my, ahem, "issues. Here is the conversation as best I recall it:

Dr: So, no bleeding, no pain, etc.?

Me: Nope.

(The she examines me.)

Dr: Huh.

Me: Uh...?

Dr: Well, you had one of the most severe tears I've seen. I really figured we'd be scheduling you a surgery today. I didn't think the treatment plan would work.

Me: Uh...?

Dr: Well, you're healed. I didn't think you would!

Me: I'm glad you have a good poker face! I would've been despondent at the thought of another surgery.

Dr: It's incredible. A miracle, really.

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This FANTASTIC news really makes it much easier to continue pounding laxatives for the next year (long story.) And when I do get around to another pregnancy, you can bet your life's savings that I will begin scarfing milk of magnesia waaaay before I deliver and for a lonnnnnng time after. Lesson learned!

Oh, and I will not be having a colonoscopy. Praise Jesus!

Why?

Why is it, that when you're about to have a medical procedure done, people feel compelled to tell you just how awful of an experience you're about to have?

My CT scan is in a couple of hours, and it really perturbs me the number of people who have "warned" me that the barium liquid is terrible. I know it is terrible. I have sat through the procedure a number of times with my brother, watched him steel his nerves against vomiting on the carpet, etc. As it is I am fasting so that gives me a headache. And I'm terribly concerned Lincoln will decide to stop nursing since he will have to take a bottle for 24 hours.

So, lots on my mind without the added stress of helpful folks telling me how crappy my procedure will be. Same thing with my colonoscopy. Like, I didn't need you to tell me that having epic diarrhea for twelve hours followed by someone shoving a camera up my butt was gonna suck. I sorta figured as much on my own. Sheesh.

My mantra is: someone else is going through a way worse procedure, and I continue to be thankful for modern medicine. Period. Thank you, sweet Jesus, for barium liquid, for cameras to go up butts, and for doctors who committed their lives to looking up butts for their living!

Well, Crap!

I am thinking of re-naming this blog "Debbie Downer Central" because it seems all I have to write about lately is bad stuff. Sigh.

My doctor's office called. To make a long story short, back when I had my gallbladder removed, the e.r. doctor noted some irritation with my colon. We all know I procrastinated on seeing the colon specialist and initially she said I didn't need a colonoscopy, that my issues were related to my fissure. She did say that she would review my CT scan to be sure, but that usually those who don't specialize in the colon don't typically know what they're looking at.

I guess that random dude DID know what he was looking at because now I have to have a colonoscopy. I am kicking myself so hard for waiting so many months. How could I endanger myself this way? I am such a fool. I have a baby that I really want to live to see grow up.

So, now I have to worry about healing up this fissure, only to have a camera shoved up my butt immediately after. Two steps forward, three steps back.

I just keep telling myself I am blessed to live in a country where such medical procedures are available. I could've been born in a Third World country. I could've waited a year instead of 6 months. "Shoulda, woulda, coulda." People are already telling me how awful the bowel prep kit is. Well, I will take it if it means peace of mind and taking care of my health. Going forward I am going to learn from my mistakes and take charge of my health. The alternative is much, much worse.

PLEASE learn from my mistakes and go to the doctor if you need to!

Warning: TMI Post

There's a saying I really like that floats around out there. I'm sure you've heard a version of it. It goes something along the lines of, "You plan, God laughs."

There are two reasons I had a c-section and both were equally important for me. The first being that I honestly didn't feel woman enough to deliver vaginally. The mere thought of a natural birth gave me an anxiety attack. No exaggeration.

The second reason was, I was hoping to avoid stuff like hemorrhoids. Yeah, well, I'd take only hemorrhoids over the other post-birth complications any day!

I, my friends, have a severe internal fissure. Why am I telling the internet this? Because hopefully it makes one other woman not afraid to go to the doctor, not afraid of the exam, or not afraid, in general, to talk about what happens after you have a baby.

A simple Wikipedia search returned some info, but it wasn't quite accurate for my situation. You see, my tear is internal. There is no exterior evidence. Basically, I have a rip in my muscle wall. The doctor said that it can take over a decade to heal because the area never gets any rest. Basically the skin covering the muscle can't be pulled taught if it is going to heal; rather, it needs to loosen up so a scab can form. Well, if you ever poop, the skin is pulled taught.

Everybody poops.

There, I said it.

I guess now this is a poop blog.

To be honest, I put off going to the doctor for months because I was so mortified over what the exam would entail.

It was over in less than a minute and was painless. The doctor treated me with total dignity and put me at ease. She was heaven sent! The other reason I avoided going was because I didn't want bad news (i.e. my brother's cancer) and I didn't want a colonoscopy.

Both reasons are foolish.

I have a child and i owe it to him to set a good example and take care of myself.

Anyway, treatment is not glamorous but what can ya do?

Please, I implore you, if you're having issues, please see someone.

And yeah, everybody poops.

Phew! 1 Down, 1 To Go!

I saw the dermatologist today.

The suspicious spot on my face is NOT skin cancer. I am so thankful!

He also removed an unsightly mole, and gave me an awesome rate to have all my cherry angiomas removed, which I plan to schedule as soon as I can find someone to watch Lincoln. Lasers may be my new best friend!

Friday's appointment is the one I am dreading the most, as the idea of someone looking up my butt automatically gives me hives. However, I keep reminding myself that Lincoln needs his mother and it is my responsibility to take care of my health. If not for my sake, than his. To soften the blow I also remind myself that someone deliberately CHOSE this particular specialty, even if I think it is a heinous job. Hey, someone's gotta do it, right? So very thankful for specialists who work in the field of Gross!

Awww!

So money is tight 'round these parts. Mainly, we are on a tight budget so that I can take have private health insurance. Our aim is to always rely on our own resources as opposed to government assistance (no shame in utilizing it, just leaving it for those who truly need it.) We couldn't afford for Rob to go onto COBRA, too, so he will have insurance in 3 months with his new employer. In the meantime, we are saying lots of prayers to ensure his safety.

All this to say, my husband has been slaving away at his new job. The hours are much better and he has been blessed with ample work (a far cry from his last job!) This past week he worked six days and he is anticipating a good pay check. He called me a minute ago and said, "I did even more hours than I originally thought. My check will be good. Now you can buy nursing bras and clothes that fit!" It was a very sweet sentiment. My pricey, sexxxy Frederick's of Hollywood bras have all but quit on me and it is time to make the move to something a little more pregnancy-practical. I had mentioned needing a few things and obviously he was listening. He is so proud to care and provide for his family. I, in turn, am proud of him and his work ethic.

Yesterday was Rob's first unofficial Father's Day and we spent the morning in the Minute Clinic because he has been having a severe allergic reaction to poison ivy. I won't make you lose your lunch with a photo but let's just say it is drawing stares and comments from strangers. Despite this, he put off seeing the RNP as long as he could and he has been suffering through the reaction in the heat. I had been pressuring him to go it looked at but he simply didn't want to take the time off. (It wasn't a money issue, as clearly we have reserves for this and medical attention is necessary. ) I'm simply so thankful I was blessed with a man who puts his family first. Hopefully the steroid therapy helps and he is back to feeling himself shortly!