Sunday, December 27, 2009

In Suspense

Christmas, happily, has passed without any major life-altering tragedy occurring and my kids had a very nice Christmas, as they've once again been spoiled by Grandma. Despite all the horrors of Christmases recently passed, I am proud of the fact that my children have only happy Christmas memories. Hubby and I do make it a point to shield them as best we can from our own distressing issues.

Currently, I'm in horrible suspense due to an ultrasound that will take place this coming Thursday to check on the status of my suicidal cyst-producing ovary. It has produced multiple large painful cysts in the past year, resulting in 8 months spent on the cursed pill. The latest bout of it has lasted three months so far. Luckily, it's rarely intense pain and I can go through the motions of a normal life, though admittedly not in a normal state of mind. It's the seeming endlessness of it and the fact that I can't even try for a desperately wanted pregnancy that drives me to the brink of insanity. And, let's face it, three months of constant pain can turn even the nicest girl into quite the bitch at times.

So... you can imagine my relief when the pain became less intense and frequent after last month's scan. Just prior to Christmas I had several painless days, during which I was in pretty high spirits and began to hope that this upcoming appointment would show me to be CYST-FREE, thus clearing the way for this chronic drug-user to switch from this:

To this!

Now, however, I am a nervous wreck. The last few days the pain has been back. Currently it is just a subtle intermittent ache, but I can't let myself be stupid enough to hope for good news. Best to avoid ups and downs by just staying so far down that there's really nowhere to go but up! That's some seriously messed up thinking, I know, but sound logic in a really twisted way!

Before I close this rant, I would like to thank Barrenblog for providing hubby and I a much-needed, though unavoidably bitter laugh with her post of several months ago entitled Operation Turkey Baster. We could relate to it all too well thanks to many similarly dismal attempts, including one disaster eerily similar to hers. Oh, the desperate things we do... if we couldn't laugh we'd just sit here and cry our eyes out.

Annie's Sound Advice:  NEVER buy a turkey baster from a garage sale.  You don't know where it's been.


Me said...

I'm glad you had an uneventful Christmas, a few pain free days, and I hope you get good news at your doctor's appointment.

CeCe said...

Good luck with your next appointment. STAY AWAY, CYSTS!