What kind of a cruel joke is this?
So thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you next post.
Ahem, now that they're gone, I'm gonna scream about how much I hate frigging menopause. Just when you think you're past all the blood and guts of your reproductive life, just when your full year has gone by without even a hint of the red devil on your underwear...why does it come back to haunt and taunt you? Just what is this sick joke? Because I'm not laughing. Not even a mild chuckle. I'm sick of it all and I want it gone.
So I went for a doctor's appointment on Wednesday and I had a PAP smear. Just afterward, I noticed a tiny smidge of blood in my nether region when I went to wipe. I figured it was the result of the PAP since I had no blood before and it really was only a tinge.
The next morning the doctor's office called me and told me that the lab had screwed up my PAP, and could I come in that day for another one? Since I had a mammogram scheduled for Friday anyhow, and it was in the same building, I figured after they sqeezed my boobs into pancakes, they could do the repeat PAP. Good plan, right?
I mosey on down to the medical building and contort my body into ridiculous shapes while my boobs are squished flat and photographed. That was fun, but everything was fine. As a ridiculous side, the radiologist asked me where my biopsy scar was and I not only didn't know, but couldn't remember which of the girls they had biopsied two years ago. Isn't that just pathetic? Thankfully there was a clip left in to identify the area, and it was find and dandy.
Having a few minutes before the PAP, I ran down to the lab and had several gallons of blood removed from my arm. Not even a cookie or a drink either. I mean, couldn't they spring for one freaking cookie? The phlebotomist put all the blood into all the different vials, and pronounced me alive and kicking, and sent me upstairs for the PAP.
After waiting 40 minutes for the freaking Nurse Practitioner, I finally got in, pulled down my drawers, and she went at it. Mid speculum she said "Oh, are you having your period?" and I said "NO" really loudly, because I don't have periods anymore, right? I told her that it was a bit of leftover blood from the other PAP, and she was cool. But then, when I jumped off the table to get dressed I saw a lot more blood than I had expected. So I checked my undies, and there was a spot. Of blood. On. My. Underwear. Oh holy shit.
I got home and put on a pad, still thinking that this is residual blood, because I'm dense like that. I'm a total denial freak. Remember that boob thing? Biopsy? What biopsy?
But by last night, I had to insert my friend the tampon. And this morning, you guessed it. Full on period. Freaking blood on the sheets period. Does that suck or what?
It was over a year. I'm supposed to be DONE. D. O. N. E.
But now I have to start the count all over again. And you know why this is happening to me. This curse revisited? Because I have lost so much weight. This is my reward for losing weight. Not new clothing, not better health, although that is going to be a side effect, but my frigging period returning. Aunt Flo, I hate you. Go away and do not come back.
This better be a once in a lifetime occurance because if I start ovulating again, I'm going to scream. Or get pregnant. No, I'll just scream and cry at the unfairness of it all. Injustice. It is wrong. I want to be done forever. I do not want more hot flashes. I do not want more insomnia. I do not want more insanity. I've been there for 10 years already. I'm so freaking done.
Cosmic joke? I think so. Stumble It! JBlog Me