Onward! So, as I think I have mentioned, after much (rather invasive) testing, we have a diagnosis of classic PCOS. For added fun, in genetic testing, we also discovered that I am a carrier of CF.* Luckily Mark is not, which saved us from a whole new set of issues to deal with. The plan, such as it is, is medication -- metformin, clomid, ovidrel, and prometrium -- which are all intended to pick up the slack for my bum endocrine system. Right now, though, I'm on provera to trigger the lady times so we can get rolling on the whole thing. It means loading my system up with progesterone for a week, and then when it is suddenly withdrawn, the drop starts a period, as it would naturally if I worked normally. It's basically a week of medically induced PMS.
I did this once before, in preparing for the diagnostic testing, and I don't remember it being quite like this. I feel like I'm going crazy -- I legit wanted to rip someone a new one at work the other day, just for being as dicky as the nature of their job requires. I managed to quash this instinct (CONSUMMATE PROFESSIONAL AHOY), but then picked a fight with Mark when I got home. The poor guy took to greeting me at the front door with a glass of wine, despite our mostly eschewing the sauce during the week. And yesterday! I ... I don't know what happened to me, you guys. I am usually not a candy person. I'll grab a handful of dark chocolate chips on occasion if they're handy, and I love leftover Halloween candy, but otherwise? I never buy the stuff. However, all day long yesterday, I was desperate--DESPERATE--for peanut M&Ms, and very specifically the peanut ones; plain or pretzel simply would not do. I felt like an addict jonesing for some smack, and the closest I have come to addiction previously is very much enjoying a nightly glass and a half of red wine before falling asleep on the couch (GIRLS GONE ZZZZZ - woo!). I had to stop for gas on the way home, and there happened to be a Target next to the gas station. Before I knew it, I was at Target holding M&Ms and a Pepperidge Farm chocolate cake (what??), and I was powerless to do anything but pull out my wallet. It just seemed like the right thing to do. (I briefly contemplated picking up some tampons while I was there, but a girl's gotta draw the cliche line somewhere, right?) As soon as I was back on the road, I cracked open the M&Ms, and I swear to you, I could practically feel the serotonin pinging around my brain. By the time I was home, I felt practically normal, aside from the ridiculous box o' cake now taking up a decent chunk of my freezer space. Mark just kind of shook his head nervously and laughed, but later, light dawned and he looked at me in terror, asking, "If this is what you're like NOW, what will happen if this all actually works?" HA.
Hell if I know, buddy, but I bet that puppy isn't sounding so bad right about now, is it?
*I am wondering if my sinus ISSUES are at all related to the CF mutation. Dr. Google turned up a 2000 Johns Hopkins study that suggested a link between chronic sinusitis and a single copy of the CF mutation (carriers). I'll have to ask my ENT about it when I see him next.
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