Not long before the end of 2005 (December 30th to be exact), I found myself sitting in a doctor’s office. I was determined not to allow another year of inaction. Cut that kind of close, huh?
Had to approach one of the things I always dreaded…the weigh-in. Standing on that scale, I noticed you can gain a whole lot of weight in a short period of time. Although I am tempted to admit the number, I know my clothing must have added a good 20-30 pounds so it would not be an accurate reading. Yeah, I wish. 🙂 Fortunately, I’ve lost some since then.
Not sure how but I ended up seeing a Nurse Practitioner instead of my regular doctor. That was cool. I just wanted someone to listen and help. That she did. She noticed my pulse was high (93) and that I looked really tired. Wanted me to give a blood sample to check for anemia. She also suggested that I see a gynecologist for further evaluation of my fibroids. I heard her ask if I would be okay with a male doctor. This is where the analytical, open-minded geek was neither. Remembering that bad experience with a male doctor from years ago, the word “no” came out of my mouth. Yes, I know. How absolutely sexist! She assured me that this doctor was very good and would listen so I agreed to go.
I remember (sometime later) my husband asking if I was OK. I hesitated and then said, “No, I’m not”. After years of creating “my new normal” again and again, I was finally able to admit to that this fibroid thing was really abnormal and I needed help to fix it. I cried silently for quite awhile after that.