If there are misspellings, hey, I wrote this all ON MY PHONE.
All right. Here's the deal. For the last year or so, I just haven't felt very well. And I finally have a diagnosis, though not quite what I was hoping for.
I never had heavy periods, and I rarely had cramps, but a few years ago, I had PMS to the point that it became PMDD and I asked to be put on Yaz to deal. It never quite took, at least bleeding wise. Oh, I felt downright goddamn chipper, but my body refused to give in to the synthetic hormones. I would have the fake period, but somewhere in there, I'd have my real period, too. And from here on out, my periods increased in volume and length exponentially. I'm not saying it was the pill that caused all this, but it was an interesting coincidence.
I gave up on Yaz, got a boyfriend, tried more pills, gave up for the same reasons, got married, asked my gyno, "are you sure there's nothing wrong?" and was told, time and again, yes, you're fine, we just haven't found the right pill yet. I continued to have ridiculously heavy, long periods. And somehow, I just adjusted, told myself this must be what everyone dealt with. This went on for a fucking YEAR.
After the fifth try and after five weeks (I'm not exaggerating, either--five fucking weeks) of steady bleeding, The Husband insisted I find a new gyno.
I caved, went to the appointment, and got an ultrasound for my troubles. (Including a transvaginal one and really, I didn't find it painful at all, so I think some people are just whiny). In the ultrasound, they found a fibroid--a very large, benign tumor. Located in a spot where surgery will be necessary if we want to have kids (we do) and where surgery is not a 100% guarantee of being able to conceive.
Oh, it gets better. And by better, I mean funnier.
Well, after railing at the world for a bit ("Fucking idiots get pregnant without meaning to all the goddamn time but people who want children, who would be great parents, might not be able to conceive?! Fuck all those dumb sluts!" etc. etc.) I thought, okay, surgery. Good. Gotta do something one way or the other--I can't keep bleeding like this. And I mean, it was BAD. Like, bleeding through an ultra (that's even beyond super plus) tampon in half an hour and well into an overnight pad as well.
Okay. Stop the bleeding, stop the anemia, prepare for surgery. How do we do that?
The specialist my new gyno sent me to recommended I go on injections of a drug called Lupron. The purpose is to first, stop the bleeding of periods to help combat the anemia before having surgery, and second, to hopefully shrink the fibroid (less blood flow = smaller blood supply) so that one surgery will be able to get it all. (At the thought of needing more than, y'know, just the one, I blanched.)
The cool thing about this drug is that for the first week, it creates a surge in your estrogen level. Guess what thrives on the ol' E? Yeah. Fibroids. I was instructed to get the first shot on the first day of my period. I assumed the period would be instantly lighter. That was a pretty poor assumption on my part. I spent all day Tuesday and much of Wednesday lying in bed on a towel and running to the bathroom every 45 minutes or so. I still feel weak and tired, but things will improve now. And why is that?
The other fun thing about Lupron is that after the estrogen surge, the drug then causes your body to stop producing estrogen for the duration you're getting injections. Hey, do you know what it's called when your body stops producing estrogen?
Menopause! I get to have a fake, induced menopause, complete with hot flashes and, believe it or not, forgetfulness. No shit, that is totally one of the side effects and man, they weren't kidding. I tell my husband the same story I did fifteen minutes ago and am momentarily baffled when he can finish it for me.
But I'll take the fake-o-pause if it will stop the awful hemmoraging (I don't remember how to spell that and since I'm typing this on my phone, I'm not about to go look it up. Shit, if I did, I'd probably forget what the fuck I was doing and never finish this post), and I'll have the surgery, and if the worst happens, well, adoption agencies would love to give some babies to a professor and an accountant, right?
Also, insomnia. If I take pills, I sleep for 14 hours. If I don't, I'm awake all night blogging on my phone.
Anyway, there's your answer, Fishbulb. It's fibroids. And they suck.
I never had heavy periods, and I rarely had cramps, but a few years ago, I had PMS to the point that it became PMDD and I asked to be put on Yaz to deal. It never quite took, at least bleeding wise. Oh, I felt downright goddamn chipper, but my body refused to give in to the synthetic hormones. I would have the fake period, but somewhere in there, I'd have my real period, too. And from here on out, my periods increased in volume and length exponentially. I'm not saying it was the pill that caused all this, but it was an interesting coincidence.
I gave up on Yaz, got a boyfriend, tried more pills, gave up for the same reasons, got married, asked my gyno, "are you sure there's nothing wrong?" and was told, time and again, yes, you're fine, we just haven't found the right pill yet. I continued to have ridiculously heavy, long periods. And somehow, I just adjusted, told myself this must be what everyone dealt with. This went on for a fucking YEAR.
After the fifth try and after five weeks (I'm not exaggerating, either--five fucking weeks) of steady bleeding, The Husband insisted I find a new gyno.
I caved, went to the appointment, and got an ultrasound for my troubles. (Including a transvaginal one and really, I didn't find it painful at all, so I think some people are just whiny). In the ultrasound, they found a fibroid--a very large, benign tumor. Located in a spot where surgery will be necessary if we want to have kids (we do) and where surgery is not a 100% guarantee of being able to conceive.
Oh, it gets better. And by better, I mean funnier.
Well, after railing at the world for a bit ("Fucking idiots get pregnant without meaning to all the goddamn time but people who want children, who would be great parents, might not be able to conceive?! Fuck all those dumb sluts!" etc. etc.) I thought, okay, surgery. Good. Gotta do something one way or the other--I can't keep bleeding like this. And I mean, it was BAD. Like, bleeding through an ultra (that's even beyond super plus) tampon in half an hour and well into an overnight pad as well.
Okay. Stop the bleeding, stop the anemia, prepare for surgery. How do we do that?
The specialist my new gyno sent me to recommended I go on injections of a drug called Lupron. The purpose is to first, stop the bleeding of periods to help combat the anemia before having surgery, and second, to hopefully shrink the fibroid (less blood flow = smaller blood supply) so that one surgery will be able to get it all. (At the thought of needing more than, y'know, just the one, I blanched.)
The cool thing about this drug is that for the first week, it creates a surge in your estrogen level. Guess what thrives on the ol' E? Yeah. Fibroids. I was instructed to get the first shot on the first day of my period. I assumed the period would be instantly lighter. That was a pretty poor assumption on my part. I spent all day Tuesday and much of Wednesday lying in bed on a towel and running to the bathroom every 45 minutes or so. I still feel weak and tired, but things will improve now. And why is that?
The other fun thing about Lupron is that after the estrogen surge, the drug then causes your body to stop producing estrogen for the duration you're getting injections. Hey, do you know what it's called when your body stops producing estrogen?
Menopause! I get to have a fake, induced menopause, complete with hot flashes and, believe it or not, forgetfulness. No shit, that is totally one of the side effects and man, they weren't kidding. I tell my husband the same story I did fifteen minutes ago and am momentarily baffled when he can finish it for me.
But I'll take the fake-o-pause if it will stop the awful hemmoraging (I don't remember how to spell that and since I'm typing this on my phone, I'm not about to go look it up. Shit, if I did, I'd probably forget what the fuck I was doing and never finish this post), and I'll have the surgery, and if the worst happens, well, adoption agencies would love to give some babies to a professor and an accountant, right?
Also, insomnia. If I take pills, I sleep for 14 hours. If I don't, I'm awake all night blogging on my phone.
Anyway, there's your answer, Fishbulb. It's fibroids. And they suck.