The Uterus Soliloquy

See what I did there? It’s like The Vagina Monologues, but with a uterus instead. Oh, how scathingly clever I am!

I finally heard back from my gynecologist today about the ultrasound I had over a week ago.

It’s never a good thing when you answer the phone and the first thing out of her mouth is a heavy sigh and “well…(unnecessarily long pause)…I’m looking at your uterus right now.”

Bonus points for diffusing a tense situation with female reproductive organ humor. I like this women very much.

As I’ve shared previously, I started taking progesterone as apparently, my supply was all jacked up. I was to do this in an effort to help me slough off some of my uterine lining, since I was having such frequent periods (as many as three a month).

The good news: Erin’s Uterus! Now 30% thinner! So, in a word, the progesterone therapy worked.

And like  you can’t have cookies without milk, you can’t have good news without bad.

The fibroid got bigger and I have more cysts on the ovaries.

The current game plan is to start taking birth control pills again to get the hormones on a more even level, but this really won’t effect The ‘Roid, as I’ve taken to calling it, or the cysts. So, kind of back at square one in a sense.

But hey, now I can have sexual intercourse without fear of creating a baby!

Oh…wait…

There are so many things contradictory and hilarious and sad and depressing about that statement:

1. implying I am sexually active (hilarious/sad/depressing because I am not).

2. Not that I want kids now, but eventually yes, I have to take birth control pills to regulate my hormones in an effort to have kids? But I’m on birth CONTROL, not birth NO control (that’s the contradictory part, by the by).

3. No sex (sorry…can’t get over this one…).

I had someone mention to me today that I should seek a support group for this fibroid/cyst thing.

Uh…why? Grant it, it IS hecka depressing, this whole “can I have kids or can’t I?” business, but support groups aren’t my bag. I tried my hand at AA; you fuckers are not helpful to me. Sitting in a room with a bunch of sorry sacks of sad, lamenting about their woes is not my idea of helpful. It works for some folks, airing their dirty laundry with a group, but it just seems like fishing for sympathy to me, and that’s annoying as shit. “You think your story is sad? Well, take a listen to MINE.” No thanks.

I apologize for being somewhat distracted this evening. Well, I guess I’m apologizing to myself because you people would have had no clue if I hadn’t mentioned I was distracted in the first place, but I digress. Anyway–sorry for the distraction. I’m going to keep watching Lord of the Rings and nom on some popcorn because I’m single and this is how I spend my evenings being single. Because I’m single. And did I mention I’m single? Because I’m single.

Good night, all.

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