Good afternoon intrepid readers. I hope you are all happy and healthy. Just a preface/fair warning - this post isn't about fucking COVID. I'm pretty tired of talking and hearing about COVID, and thankfully that isn't what I need to talk about this afternoon.
I have a love hate relationship with doctors. I've seen both excellent and terrible ones. As my youngest daughter has chronic and sometimes severe eczema, we are indeed exposed to many different levels of greatness and jackassery. It's quite the rare occasion that I have health problems. A few years back, I noticed that I was having quite a few symptoms of POCS. (hello facial hair!) In this miraculous age of the Google Gods, I of course set about searching for answers. I know what doctors think of people who do this, but hey, at least it wasn't Web MD; I would have been pronounced dead long ago. Ahem. My mom is a nurse. I also happen to have the variety of nerdery that makes me read medical dictionaries/textbooks and remember quite a good deal just for giggles. My point is, I'm not completely ignorant.
I also had random bleeding, which was quite alarming, and I knew it wasn't something I could ignore as it could indicate something more serious than a hormone disorder. So off I went to my doc, armed with what I had discovered, confident that she could take in all of the symptoms and help me sort it out. I got some meds and a green light from my doc that I was fine. Rather confused, I went home relieved but not entirely convinced. After all, my symptoms weren't imaginary and she hadn't even done a checkup.
As things oftentimes go, I got busy and didn't pursue it for quite some time. I finally thought that I should consult with an Endocrinologist, as they are the ones who will understand hormones and my BP had been fluctuating quite alarmingly. This doc took in my complaints, suggested weightlifting, eating less, and ordered some more tests. Which I dutifully did. My blood sugar came back startlingly high. Of course another thing Endocrinologists are concerned with is diabetes. Understandably, they tend to look at the most obvious symptoms and make a plan as such. So I ended up with through-the-roof anxiety, and a blood sugar monitor that I had to wear for a few weeks. In the end, it turns out that maybe I just had too much sugar in my coffee before the appointment. He also gave me a clean bill of health. I was confused, as high sugar and BP are both signs of PCOS, but I was again just given the advice of exercise, eating less, and for god's sake it's just stress.
I again trudged off home, relieved that I was not going to have to deal with diabetes at a relatively young age (the diabetus is no joke internets), but confused as to why he had not investigated any of the other symptoms I had told him about. As time tends to, it went by and I didn't pursue anything for a while.
The bleeding continued and I went back to the Google Gods to try to find things I could do to help it. I ended up taking quite a number of vitamins. While this did help the overall PCOS symptoms a great deal, it didn't deal with the bleeding. I chose a gynecologist in an international hospital, hoping that she would be a little more conscientious than the neighborhood doc I had seen before. She did do an exam, and wrote down some tests she wanted me to do. I dutifully got them done and was told that my pap smear was clean, my cervix was absolutely fine. I should of course relax and maybe try birth control or onion juice for my hair loss. Oh yes internets - someone who went to medical school suggested I relax and put onion juice in my hair. If there's one thing that irritates a woman more than hearing "calm down", it's "you need to relax".
I gave it a shot - the pills, not the onion juice - and tried for 6 months. As far as I know, I was protected from a pregnancy I could not possibly have had, but nothing else. It did zero for any other symptoms. I went back to the doc and she gave another pill to try. I again dutifully tried for 6 months with the same results. By this point, I'm sure you can imagine I was quite fed up.
And then COVID happened. So there were no doctors that were seeing non-COVID or emergency/chronic patients at all. To be honest, I had given up a little by this point. I didn't care if doctors were available or not. I figured the bleeding was just going to be something that would plague me for some time to come.
Fast forward to a few weeks back. As we HAD to seek treatment for my daughter's skin (another day, another story), I was a bit surprised to see clinics open. I thought I will try again. I found a high rated doc on a doc rating website and scheduled an online consult. She listened well and did her best to suggest things online. At the end of our discussion, she told me she would like to examine me, so off to the clinic I went. We had a discussion and another exam. She was quite concerned by what she saw. There were definitely some physical reasons for my symptoms.
Now this was both a deep sigh of relief and also one of deep concern. My symptoms were something, and there was a physical reason for them that was apparent. Unfortunately, it's cervical bleeding and the causes of this in general aren't good.
The doctor told me that one of my test results had indicated an infection - and that I may still have one, possibly an STD. This could cause the problem, and she prescribed strong antibiotics along with a few other things. Obviously this was not good news for me and I'm still trying to figure out what to do with this information. I haven't gotten the PAP smear nor other test results yet, so I suppose I can decide what to do at that time. I am to take the antibiotics for a few weeks and then go back for a check up. If healing has occurred, then we know the cause. If not, then I will need to go for a cervical biopsy to see if I have cervical cancer.
My anxiety has again shot up and I can't help but wonder why after all the things that have happened over the last few years weren't enough. I thought I was finally getting a grip on my life and letting myself relax and enjoy the new direction. I feel incredibly betrayed by my own body - to say nothing of other betrayals if the infection is an STD. I have been telling myself that I can't do anything about the future right now and that I have to just manage today, but for someone with anxiety, it doesn't really control the thoughts about what if nor the elaborate imaginary scenarios that play out in the head. Whew. It's been a rough one internets.
~Becky~
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