This is why we let the doctors do the diagnoses

So I finally went to a doctor this week about my ongoing female issues. I lost 12 lbs, had a normal cycle then bled constantly for a month. When we went over my history and current condition, she immediately gave me the preliminary diagnosis of PCOS. I was not surprised obviously. So she sent me to the vampires to run blood tests for all kinds of hormone levels and scheduled me for an ultrasound to check everything out. She said that if everything came back as expected, I could start Clomid (a fertility drug) in about two weeks.

I went in for the ultrasound yesterday and she let me know that the hormone panels all came back as expected, indicating PCOS. When they started the ultrasound, they showed me all of the little cysts in my ovaries. When they got to the left Fallopian tube however, they found it to enlarged with some type of debris in it. They immediately suspected an ectopic pregnancy, even though I told them it was next to impossible for me to pregnant. Well the pregnancy test was negative but now that just means they don't know why my tube is blocked and swollen. It could be endometriosis or a cysts dislodged from my ovary or it who knows. So now I have to have a laparoscopy to find out what's doing and hopefully fix it. I've never had any type of surgery and I am a bit nervous about what they will find. I hope it is something easily corrected.

I'm glad that she did all of these tests before I started Clomid, since having an enlarged Fallopian tube increases the risk of an ectopic pregnancy. She seems optimistic about us having more children once we figure out what's going on with my lady bits and for once I have a doctor who is listening to me and actually DOING something about it.

Teen Angst that never goes away

I have never been accused of being what one would call a "social-butterfly". I had a close group of friends in high school and I did not branch outside of it much. In college I was friends with my coworkers and two of my dorm mates. I guess I'm what you would call a hermit. A loner. Anti-social. I married someone who is the same. So we don't get out much. Putting myself into large group settings is extremely uncomfortable for me.

Last week, we received an invitation from the parent's club at Makayla's preschool for an ice cream social. I accepted because I knew Makayla would be disappointed if we didn't go. I was dreading it all week. The only parent I met was in passing as Makayla was going in for her assessment. He's pretty much a tool. They were getting ready to go and his son said "I can count in Spanish too!" and proceeded to do so. When he finished the dad said "Oh he can count in Chinese as well". Jesus, just get the fuck out, you're already over your time and running into mine. I have to get back to work after this! So the thought of large groups of people like Mr. Overachiever made me nauseous. So we went to the ice cream social yesterday and Jeff and I hung out on the fringes while Makayla played with all of her friends on the playground equipment. For some reason, she IS a little social butterfly- unlike either of her parents. Finally, I edged my way toward the pavilion where the ice cream was, using Makayla like a shield. We ended up having a short conversation with the leader of the parents club, she seemed nice enough- but really I couldn't wait to get out of there. I was irrationally mad at all of the pregnant women (there were several) and the mom's with their new babies.  After we made our escape and got home, there was another invitation waiting in my inbox for an apple picking excursion. Ugh. And wouldn't you know, Makayla has been saying we should go apple picking for like two weeks now. As if picking, grinding and pressing 125 lbs of our own apples wasn't enough....

So I feel like I should be over this anxiety. I'm a grown ass woman but it seems to be getting worse, which is the opposite of good. If I degrade much further I'll be a recluse before Makayla gets out of high school.