Hey, remember when I thought I was pregnant? Yeah, well, I wish.
It turns out my body was going crazy. My liver and intestines were inflamed. I was in pain constantly and I could barely keep anything down.
After going to the doctor three times in less than a month, he finally admitted he had no idea what was wrong with me, and sent me to a gastro-internist. (Gastro-entorologist? Gastro-neurologist? I have heard it a dozen ways.)
That doctor as given me blood tests, ultrasounds, CT scans, and a colonoscopy. Apparently, I studied too well, cause I passed them all with flying colors. They found nothing I have an endoscopy scheduled for the 18th.
Don’t get me wrong, I am very glad they haven’t found any terrible thing in all the tests they have run. But after nearly 3 weeks on the couch and continuing pain I am barely controlling with a myriad of pills, I would like to know what the heck is wrong with me.
So I guess I am not going to be having a baby right now. I am a tiny bit heartbroken. Ok, maybe a lot heartbroken.
I want to end on a high note. I want to give you a ray of sunshine, cause I am not a puddle of mess, I really am ok. I am not even depressed, really, and my little family is wonderful.
But I want more to let my brave face down for a minute. I want to release into the world the fact that I am furious at my body. I have been betrayed by the body I try to be so good to. It hurts me physically, and doesn’t stop there. It keeps from me the thing I want. And retaliation would hurt no one but myself.