Update

Following up from today's GP appointment, I have another ovarian cyst.

It's formed on my favourite ovary (sarcasm) lefty loser.  This the same side that I've already had an ovarian cyst removed from in 2014.  At the time they managed to save my ovary but I'm kinda wishing they just took it now, however, I may not have had Molly so silver linings and all that jazz. 

I lost my left fallopian tube in an ectopic pregnancy the following year in 2015. So lefty loser is kinda just hanging out over there.  Like the loser it is. 

Due to my cyst being complex and nearly 40mm it's causing bullshit and needs to be removed.

Which means more surgery.

I may have had a little cry when I told Juffin because FFS enough already.

Obviously this is shithouse, however, I am grateful that I'm not pregnant.  That I don't have cancer.  That I live in a country where I have access to excellent medical advice and care. That I have been blessed with two beautiful albeit manic children, my partner is a bit great and my family are only a phonecall away.

I know that I'll get through this, like I do with everything else and whilst I'm happy and grateful for all those things, 2017 can still go and suck a big fat dick.

My budget headwear :-)

 Ps Max Dynamite came third so at least I won my $$ back in the Cup today.  Giddy up! 

Shark Week

Disclaimer: If you don't like hearing about women's health issues, then please stop reading right now.  I mention words like vagina and bleeding in the same sentence below so if you're in any way squeamish, kindly piss off.

Last week I had to visit my GP because I had not had my period for two months.

Yes my friends, two months.

That is some scary ass shit.

I'm currently not on any form of contraception.  The mini pill makes me crazy, (I'm not joking, I literally turn into an even crazier, angrier, obnoxious arsehole and I cannot do that to myself or my family), and I'm still tossing up the mirena.  The last six months have not been fun for me and my poor broken body, so the thought of fooling around more just gives me the heebies.  I just wanted my body to have a break for a bit.  Obviously it didn't get the memo because I hadn't menstruated since the end of August.

Since late September I have done six pregnancy tests.  SIX.

When I had to take a day off work last Monday because I had the beginnings of a hormonal migraine and was so bloated and cramped and couldn't get out of bed properly, I thought finally it was on it's way, but alas, still no period by Tuesday morning. I decided it was time to face the music and made a Doctor's appointment.

After doing yet another pregnancy test at the surgery, my GP referred me for a blood test, just to be absolutely sure that I was not pregnant and in the event that my period had still not arrived, a pelvic ultrasound.  Remember this post here, where I waxed lyrical on my love of pelvic ultrasounds... needless to say, I was fucking thrilled.

At this stage I start freaking out that I am actually pregnant.  That seven pregnancy tests are all wrong and somehow, by some of cosmic joke, I've become pregnant and my life is literally over.  Of course I love my kids, but fuck me, I am so done.  Two is my absolute limit.  I have no room left in my heart, or my car, for more children.  And as I'm such a great birther (sarcasm) I'm not sure my body can handle any more drama in that department.

It's the longest 24 hours of my life.

When the GP finally calls to confirm that I am indeed, not pregnant, I almost weep for joy. She says she's never talked to someone who's so happy to NOT be pregnant and she laughs.  I cackle like the crazy person that I am and she tells me to make the ultrasound appointment.

The next day I get a call as they've had an appointment come up that day at 11. I head out, on a work day, to my appointment assuming I will be an hour tops.

Fun fact, your organs are mobile.  They do not just sit still inside your body.  Your uterus for example, moves around in your body.  Yes.  I know.  My mind was also blown.  It did help being told this whilst I had been laying on an uncomfortable trolley with no pants on whilst a woman has a probe in my vagina.  Yes, I have to have the transvaginal ultrasound because my uterus is being uncooperative and they can't get a clear picture of my endometrium.

Yes. You read that correctly, I had a woman, probe my vagina, for almost 30 minutes and Medicare covered it.  There is not enough wine in the world.

I am yet to hear the results of my ultrasound as my follow up GP appointment is tomorrow.

In true Jessica fashion however, my period arrived with a vengeance yesterday morning and I feel thoroughly disgusting.  My back is aching, I have a headache, and it's like a murder scene every time I go to the toilet.

This morning after changing my tampon every hour I gave up and went back to pads.

I know.  It's fucking gross.

And I'm not saying that periods are gross and being a woman is gross, it just feels messy and unpleasant and I haven't had my period for two whole months so it literally IS like a great white has attacked my nether regions and I feel nasty AF.  Why hasn't the human body evolved so women do not have to suffer through having blood come out of their vagina every month for 35+ years?  Like childbirth, it seems archaic and unnecessary!

Hopefully my visit goes well tomorrow... I will keep you posted!

Fake it till you make it!

Truth

People keep asking me how I'm doing.  I lie to them.  I tell them I'm doing just fine.  I feel heaps better.  I am resting lots.

The truth is that for the last two weeks I've been crippled by anxiety attacks which can last for hours and I feel like the world's worst mother and partner.

I'm not sleeping well.  I wake up several times a night in a ball of sweat and nerves.  My legs feel like lead.

I don't know what bought this on. It has come out of nowhere, it didn't start when I left the hospital, it didn't start when my Mum left, it didn't start when Justin started back at work... I have no idea what is going on and to make matters worse, there doesn't appear to be a particular trigger.

I will be ok, watching TV, reading a story to the kids, prepping dinner, reading a book and all of a sudden I'm overcome with a violent urge to vomit.  I get lightheaded, my legs start aching, heat rushes to my face, heart goes like the clackers and I just want to lay on the ground.

Most times I do just that.

Lay on the ground.

I then obsess about how fat I've become, how I don't look after my kids properly, how my house is a mess, how my partner isn't getting enough attention, how I should be back at work already, how I miss having my family close by, how little money we have in the bank, how we'll never own a home, will we ever get married, why don't I talk to my friends anymore, why am I not doing anything with myself except falling apart on the unmopped floor...

I couldn't do my laying down thing as I walking the Strand this morning with my family so I tried to focus on the water and the sky and all the naturey things.  I did my deep breathing and kept putting one foot in front of the other. I have literally felt on edge all day.

I've been in a few social situations since this started and not had it happen either. So it's not the social/people thing.

When I told my GP he recommended that I speak to someone, which obviously I will do, but also reminded me that I've had a tough time with this operation and it's okay to feel overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed is one thing, crippling anxiety is another.

He gave me a script for some valium.

Which I've found not helpful.

So here I am.  Tomorrow I make an appointment to see a psych and hopefully the beginning of really feeling better.

I could go on about a lot of things here but I won't because I don't want to feel judged or have people worrying about me.  I'm actually ok and working on a plan.  I just needed to get it down and out because that's what I do.