I waited all week to call and find out my anti mullerian hormone results — it was a crazy week at work and I didn’t want to add to the madness if the news was bad.
I heard back from the fertility institute within an hour of calling today. And it seems my AMH level is poor … 1.4. The doctor is in Tallahassee and will call Monday to discuss plans/what this means, but they told me the number over the phone. Depending on which AMH scale they used, it’s either poor/low or basically menopausal. Waiting for the nurse to call back and clear that up.
I knew at 23 that my ovaries were starting to age; they could see it during surgery, but my reserve was good then. But I also had two ovaries still.
Did I miss my “chance” after all?
Am I a 30-year-old who blogs about this now?
They had these bracelets at the check-out desk at the fertility institute; I was upset when I saw it at first. Now I wish I had taken one. What I hope for … I’m still not sure.
I was going to go to the driving range, but now I’m feeling pretty dizzy … may be a day to stay home …
**UPDATE!** The nurse already called me back, and the scale they use is ng/mL. So my number for AMH is 1.4 ng/mL — not a 100 percent disaster, but still not good.
The nurse is of course careful to remind me that there are other factors at play as to what this might mean: my age (which is young!), previous infertility (facepalm), and the number of follicles he could see on my ultrasound without stimulation (it was about 4 when I saw this doc for the first time). But still … there’s a big difference between 1.4 at age 41 and a 1.4 at age 30.
Just had a fun morning fighting Walgreens while trying to pick up my meds … Can anybody tell me when TYLENOL (acetaminophen) became a national health crisis? It’s in both my pain meds and now that’s a red flag. And OF COURSE they would call my soon-to-be-ex primary doc on a routine refill now that she has a problem with me. They’re trying to tell me I have to pick between which med to take. Is “fuck you” an option? Because that’s what I choose.
I had to request to talk to a second pharmacist without an attitude to get anything done, and then I got told “this is the last time we will fill this.” The first pharmacist actually told me to try at another location — that’s called pharmacy shopping and that’ll get you on a black list fast.
Here is the sign at Walgreens now. And folks were arguing with me last week that “pain patients are getting their pain managed” (says a non-pain patient). Call and write the FDA and tell them what you think! Measures put in place to discourage/prevent narcotic abuse isn’t solving the problem: it’s hurting pain patients.
A good point was raised that too much acetaminophen can have terrible effects on the body, and it’s true — it’s not a fun way to die. But it’s not like I don’t know that. Every time I open a bottle of pills and that chemical cloud punches me in the face, I have fear in my heart — what is in this stuff? What is it doing to my body?
But you know who doesn’t get to decide they’re not going to fill my meds without evidence of any abuse? Pharmacies. They are NOT. MY. DOCTOR. and not the ones having to manage THREE chronic pain issues. Every few months they have the cramps about something different: the bultalbital, we don’t want you taking pain meds, etc. … now it’s Tylenol? Fuck them; they are incorrect to pressure people to “pick one to fill” as I was told today (it’s not that easy and they are for different issues) and encourage patients to pharmacy shop. And now I no longer have a PCP. My primary care called out of the blue and said they no longer want to write my pains meds. Once I’m out of these, I am OUT. My gyno won’t write pain meds; my former neuro and current neurosurgeon won’t write pain meds. So good luck to me finding both a new PCP AND a new neuro to see me this month.
While I do have the option to ask for my codeine med to be written with aspirin and not Tylenol, not everybody has this option with their meds. I do not think that pain patients who take their meds responsibly, as directed, not ODing, and absolutely need it in order to have any ability to get through the day should be suffering under laws, especially those made in Florida, meant to end pill mills/abuses but end up hurting valid pain patients instead.
A friend of mine in TV news will be pitching this story to her editor tonight. I certainly hope you’ll be seeing me on the news in the near future.
Taken from Endo Sucks! on Facebook
My mother’s kick-in-the-pants, go-out-and-do-great-things-because-you’re-awesome, inspiring words of the day. So good it deserved to be made with sparkly text.
Behold, a garnet and silver stardust bracelet on elastic, made for the 8th birthday of one of my coworkers’ daughters:
My first bracelet sold since I was in college! I’m so proud. Hope she likes it! Happy birthday, Emma!
Email me or leave a comment if you want your very own pure gemstone goodness. :)
**UPDATE** From my coworker: “Emma loved the bracelet. She put in on immediately and kissed it and has not taken it off. … Dad did good and you helped. Way to go.” SO CUTE!**
This is a follow-up to a post I made recently, detailing some health issues with my dog, Pippin.
On one recent Sunday, I took Pippin to work. He’s the best in the biz.
Long story short: NO SURGERY FOR THE SMALL DOG! The ultrasound shows a nodule on his pancreas, and some of his organs were a bit enlarged, but there’s no cancer, no foreign object stuck in his gut, and absolutely no need for surgery, as the first vet had pressed so firmly into my brain.
Basically, his big tummy was full of air and food that was fermenting, which was the culprit in his gastro issues. He’s a small dog that’s getting older and the high-fiber vet food just wasn’t right for him. I put him on soft food of a different brand for a bit, but when that didn’t stop the gastrointestinal distress, we put him on the tried-and-true diet for doggy diarrhea: chicken and rice. He’s been eating it since with only one short-lived gastro issue over the weekend when we relented and gave him a bite of egg white.
No more panting all night like a cow in labor. No more shitting himself. No more tear-inducing farts that wake us up out of a dead sleep in the middle of the night.
My dog did not have cancer. My dog had to take a shit and change his diet. THANKS, VET NO. 1, FOR THE PANIC. I guess doctors of all shades can be total dipshits.
If it’s not one thing, it’s another!Ladies and gents, always remember that YOU are your own best advocate and you must be diligent when it comes to your health care. I called Walgreens’ automated service this evening to check the status of my refill orders. I’m glad I did before I got there, because I was surprised/pissed to find they were trying to charge me $160 for FOUR (1-2-3-4) Relpax pills for migraine. Thankfully the fix came easy this time: I called the pharmacy and found that, for some bizarre reason, they had run it through some random coupon program and not my insurance, causing it to be rejected. But I was assured that it will be its usual $10 when I pick it up tonight.
Sadly, this is not the first time for me or for any of you, and it will not be the last. While I know Walgreens staff are humans too, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to fix something with them. They fill the wrong med even though I use the automated system and enter the prescription number myself. They don’t send refill requests. They give me someone else’s medicine and give mine away. They’ve asked me out loud, in front of other customers, why I’m taking birth control. And they frequently run medications incorrectly so that insurance at first doesn’t cover it until I tell them, ask them, fight them, beg them to re-run it.
Not that insurance is innocent: They’ve put up more than a few fusses and tried to charge more or refuse coverage on different medications, but will pull back and charge the co-pay amount when I’ve pushed back. You never accept a first offer, and you must never be afraid to push back for what you need or when you know something is not right — and even if you don’t know for sure, you ask, question, verify. Don’t just trust that everyone is doing their job to a T; make sure of it.
Your time, money and health are yours, and they are precious. Live it and love it.
Well, here we go again.
Only three hours of sleep last night, despite my good intentions of going to bed early so I could get up way early. Was a few minutes late getting here but nobody minds because even at 915 a.m. they are running behind.
I am waiting for an ultrasound, and likely clotting panel bloodwork. I am told when I check in that the “late morning” arrival of the sonographer will be more like noon … “And he is frequently late,” the girl behind the desk adds. I ask if I can come back closer to the actual time. I’m told no, because if he shows up and I’m not here, he’ll just leave. That is not an option for us. I’m told I can just leave my little one there and pick him up when it’s over. I opt to wait. The girl behind the counter looks down at me through her overly large, somehow trendy plastic frames, then slips away to the back rooms again.
Except for a patient or two getting medication instructions or playing on their phone, I’m alone in a silent waiting room. One wall, the one to my back, is a full glass window and the morning sun already is baking me. It’s going to be a miserably hot summer if it’s already so hot before 10 a.m. He’s panting. I’ll give him some water in a cup from the car in a minute. Perhaps we’ll go for a walk under the guise of “going outside.”
After all, would you leave this little man alone for hours on end with strangers when you don’t have to?
Yep, that’s Pippin, and my 6-year-old maltese and I are at the vet for the third time in less than a week, two of them “worked-in” semi-emergency visits.
What, you thought this visit was about me?
On Friday the first vet took xrays and found a seriously bloated stomach on this little dog with what seems to be *something* in him – cancer, a foreign object, we don’t know. On sunday I gave him a bath and found his neck and chest were black and red, so off we went to the vet much closer to my house (and more importantly, open on sundays). Seems that’s a giant bruise from jugular blood draw; it happened again when Vet No. 2 drew that day and even put pressure and ice on it. That’s why his neck is shaved and looks so awful. It actually is looking better! I hate to have him punctured again today.
Four different vets have looked st his xrays, including two that are friends of mine and my mom. Many theories have been tossed out, from tumors to having eaten part of a dead rat and maybe he’s suffering from the blood thinner in rat poison (so unbelievably unlikely). All opinions seem to end with seemingly inevitable stomach surgery. I’m hoping that the ultrasound today will tell me something different, something positive.
But right now, we’re waiting and testing and wondering. I’d rather it was happening to me than to Pippin. Right now, he just wants to be held and told he’s good and have a drink of water.
I can handle that.