Sick and Tired...

I can officially agree with the saying "I am sick and tired of being sick and tired".
It's something that I suppose has been creeping up for awhile, likely about the past 6 months, but just kind of came to a head about a week and a half ago.

Last Tuesday, I found myself exhausted to the point that simple things like walking up 13 stairs or putting a few plates away left me panting and weak as anything. I also had a headache that had lasted about 2 days, with no relief in sight, despite efforts to stop it. So I grudgingly headed off to the doctor on Wednesday morning.

Anyone who knows me knows that going to the doctor ranks right up there with an enema. I hate going and would do pretty much anything to avoid going. Especially since it seems like every time I go, they find NOTHING wrong with me.

Not this time.

I sat on the little table and told my little tale of woe. He hooked me up to the blood pressure monitor and lo and behold, I had a pressure of 152/100. Not good. At all. I knew in the back of my mind that I should have been watching it better. The last time I went for a basic check up, the doctor said it was high. But I figured I'd do it by myself, just get it down, no problem. Guess not.

So he put me on a prescription and had me go for blood and urine tests. Took the tests Wednesday night. I got a call Saturday afternoon. I needed to come back in to see him about the results. He would be there Sunday afternoon. Great. I had been told the ONLY reason I'd get that call was if they found something. So I had roughly 24 hours to stew over what on earth was wrong with me, what had they found.

Meanwhile I was still not feeling any better, despite my blood pressure decreasing nicely each day. Energy levels were at 5% at best, dizzy as all anything...not nice.

Sunday night, there I sat, back on the little table. My cholesterol is high. This is not only a problem in itself, but of course, that will help cause high blood pressure and do I want to die of a heart attack. Of course not. I'm 34. Anyway.
Also, my iron is practically non-existent. Have I been having any issues with you-know-what? Well...yes...for about 6 months, I guess.

This little meeting lands me three more prescriptions and a referral to a specialist. Meaning I am now having to take a total of 4 prescriptions...5 pills a day, at various different times. Believe me, that was the night I created a checklist chart, to help remember what to take when and to keep track of whether or not I had in fact taken them yet.

Bounce forward to Wednesday morning. I get a call from the specialist's office. Can I come in on Friday morning? You betcha. So I pencil in the appointment.

Today I check out the address on Google maps to make sure I know where I am going, and also check into this specialist's name. Now I am unhappy.

I am finally starting to get some energy back (I'd say I'm at about 25%), so that's good. My issue is with what tomorrow will bring. You see, the doctor is an ob/gyn. And the doctor is a man.

I have a slight inkling of how invasive this appointment will be. We are talking pap, we are talking taking inner flesh samples, possibly ultrasounds and/or little cameras and/or who knows what else. As it is, I am ultra-uncomfortable with the whole concept and will run screaming at every opportunity from most of the above....but the fact that it will be a man performing such personal actions makes it that much worse.

My hubby says I am being silly, that if he were in my situation, he would be just fine because the specialist is qualified and such....but I don't think he has any right to say such a thing unless he is in a similar situation. I know the specialist is qualified. I know there is nothing "wrong" in it....but I really wish it could be a woman, you know, someone who could identify personally with the whole process and all the body parts involved.

I am definitely looking forward to the end of all this...the point when all issues have been identified, everything has been treated to satisfaction, and I have recovered all my energy and well-feeling-ness. But tomorrow will be a toughie.I don't know what is wrong with that part of me.

And I am scared.