Just had a midwife appointment and things didn’t go as fabulously as I would have hoped. Looks like I’m anemic and in order to draw the blood for all the tests needed (4 freaking vials!) she had to stick me repeatedly. My stupid veins kept collapsing. And I’m not a big fan of needles and my daughter became cranky and so Mark had to deal with her while I practically squirmed off the table because the EVIL CYST (EC) has returned and the midwife was trying to drain it. OK, so I haven’t explained the EC but it’s only my girly bits and it hurt like hell when she cut it. The EC is what landed me in the hospital when I was pregnant with Lil. Mind you, I didn’t end up in the ER because the EC was actually causing me pain or threatening me in anyway, rather because of an over reacting nurse who suddenly decided that despite the fact she wasn’t actually looking at me (this was the nurse hotline) the EC wasn’t anything normal and was threatening my pregnancy. Dumb ass. OH! and if you’ve ever had an ER doc go after your neither regions with a needle and a blade, let’s just say it’s a horrid experience. This time around I’m happy to have a gentle midwife deal with it, but it still is incredibly painful, no matter how you slice it (HA! Pun intended folks, it’s just one of those days).
So why is it an EVIL cyst if it’s not actually causing me pain or threatening me in anyway? Because it’s damn inconvenient, that’s why. With Lily’s pregnancy it decided to show up on the Saturday night between Christmas and New Years. Have you even been in an ER on the Saturday night between Christmas and New Years? If you had, you’d know it one of the busiest nights of the year, mostly due to drunk idiots. Had it not been for the overreacting nurse, I could have made an appointment with my OB and had it dealt with in a somewhat civilized manner. BUT NO! I had to sit in an incredibly uncomfortable ER overnight only to be brutalized but an overworked and rushed doctor who didn’t want to spend time with my girly bits any more than I wanted him down there.
At least this time around it showed up only pea sized (last time it was more like one of those big ol’ grapes) and presented itself at a midwife appointment where we could all calmly and gently deal. “Gently” if you can use that word while holding a scalpel in your hand.
So, I’m light-headed (yippee, anemia!) and tired (more anemia!) but at least my fabulous husband made me a spinach and broccoli omelet. And now I have work to do as my theatre doesn’t pay me to blog.
P.S. And I hadn’t intended this post to be about the EC… apparently I got some issues.