So today I thought I'd take a break from my usual blogging and just talk about what's been going on with me. Those of you who know me have probably wondered or even asked me at one point or another why we remain childless. It's been six years and you are either getting tired of waiting or just totally losing interest. If I tell you the answer, will you promise not to judge me? I'm scared of doctors. There. I guess I'm what some people would call a "silent hypochondriac". Over the years, I have somehow become an expert in self-diagnosis, looking up my symptoms online, slowly driving myself insane with worry yet refusing to see a doctor for fear of what the doctor might find. Welcome to my world! So anyway, while I adore my baby nieces, I'm not in any hurry to have my own. I have low tolerance for pain and just the thought of birthing just plain terrifies me. And besides, hubs and I are doing great just the two of us that procreation (or lack thereof) has never been a priority so why push it? If it's going to happen, it's going to happen.
The fact though that it's not happening therefore there is something wrong has not dawned on me until recently. And once it did, oh it gnawed at me every minute of the day. I always see every ache and pain as precursor to a more serious condition, but this time, my paranoia has gotten even worse. It cracks me up sometimes, thinking the way I do but mostly it irritates me. For instance, what started all of this was a drop of what appeared to be blood on my husband's shirt. That suspicious looking stain that may or may not have been soy sauce seriously sent me into a paralyzing panic. I had him immediately checked out, poked and prodded, you know, the whole nine yards, only to find out later that yes, it was indeed soy sauce. My manicurist and I had a good laugh about it. I know it's no laughing matter it's just hubs was super pissed at me for everything I've put him through. But I'm really glad I had that health scare. Because even though most of his results came back normal, there's a couple of things we need to address and check with his doctor.
So this now leads us to me. I realized there's no point delaying the inevitable. So petrified as I was, I hauled my procrastinating ass and finally got checked. After numerous doctor's appointments and nerve-wracking weeks spent waiting for test results, I now know that I have this condition called Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS). I might go into details about this effing disorder some time but for now I think it would suffice to say that my hormones are out of whack and all over the place. Hubs and I can try (TRY being the operative word here) and get pregnant but these buggers have got to behave first. So now I'm on meds, dieting, and will soon be exercising. Regularly. I know this is the way to go but oh how I hate everything about this. One of the meds I'm taking makes me feel nauseous and gassy and gives me the mother of all diarrheas and at the most inconvenient times too. Not only that, I'm starting a low GI diet and quite literally, those I love I cannot eat and those I would rather not eat like oats, beans and fruit cake, well now I have to. Anyway, I should stop. Talking. Now. Before I bore us to tears.
On a not so unrelated note, someone from Fitness First Megamall just offered me discounted membership. I know, right? Can't he be any more timely? Tempting as it is, these days I just don't have the patience nor the bowel control to endure the horrendous traffic in EDSA on a regular(ish) basis. So there, thanks for letting me rant. I've got a few more tests lined up in the coming weeks. More hand-wringing and nail-biting for me, can't say I'm excited. But hey, I've been anxious all my life, so why stop now? (I said that in my most sarcastic tone, in case you couldn't tell.) If there's any update, I'll let you know. Maybe.