Health Stuff -- Boring and self-centered
Went to the new doctor today and emerged very... disheartened. I didn't realize it, but this guy's office specializes in helping with fertility in women with PCOS. When he found out that I don't want to get pregnant, he just sort of threw up his hands and said, "so what do you need from me?"
I felt very patronized. I know this is not unusual at a doctor's office, but I straight up told him that I've been living with PCOS and taking medicines for 16 years; and he gave me the intro spiel: Well-your-weight-is-the-key. Really? No fucking shit, Sherlock. Excuse me: Dr. Sherlock.
After some back-and-forth, I did convince him to check my T3 and T4 Thyroid levels, and he decided to do a lipid panel. Neither he nor his nurse think my thyroid is out-of-whack--they both think I'm a lazy fat-ass. He didn't care to address the crippling fatigue that makes it almost impossible for me to function like a normal person. He didn't want to hear about my blood pressure ("That's not really my field") or the possible need for anti-depressants (Well... You'll need to talk to someone else about that.") I really need to see a nutritionist so I know EXACTLY what to eat and at what time of the day, but he didn't have any info on that either. My aunt was a dietician in the '70's, and I'm going to ask her if she can at least give me some guidelines. I mean, I can count if the food has info on it; I just need to know the right distribution throughout the day.
It's going to be a low-calorie, low-carb, low-fat, low-sodium, no-sugar arrangement. I'm trying not to get depressed about that.
I'm really starting to appreciate Dr. Shepherd in Tupelo. He was always hopeful and (for the most part) kind. His specialty is living with PCOS, and I guess I shouldn't have strayed from him. I will not be keeping my follow-up with Dr. Hines. He is not for me.
A while back, I set up an account with my-calorie-counter.com, and I guess now I will start using it. Tomorrow we buy a kitchen scale and a bathroom scale. We will join the gym this month. Time to make a for-real effort, and then if it doesn't work I'll know that I did the best I could. And if does, well, then at least my clothes will fit again.
I felt very patronized. I know this is not unusual at a doctor's office, but I straight up told him that I've been living with PCOS and taking medicines for 16 years; and he gave me the intro spiel: Well-your-weight-is-the-key. Really? No fucking shit, Sherlock. Excuse me: Dr. Sherlock.
After some back-and-forth, I did convince him to check my T3 and T4 Thyroid levels, and he decided to do a lipid panel. Neither he nor his nurse think my thyroid is out-of-whack--they both think I'm a lazy fat-ass. He didn't care to address the crippling fatigue that makes it almost impossible for me to function like a normal person. He didn't want to hear about my blood pressure ("That's not really my field") or the possible need for anti-depressants (Well... You'll need to talk to someone else about that.") I really need to see a nutritionist so I know EXACTLY what to eat and at what time of the day, but he didn't have any info on that either. My aunt was a dietician in the '70's, and I'm going to ask her if she can at least give me some guidelines. I mean, I can count if the food has info on it; I just need to know the right distribution throughout the day.
It's going to be a low-calorie, low-carb, low-fat, low-sodium, no-sugar arrangement. I'm trying not to get depressed about that.
I'm really starting to appreciate Dr. Shepherd in Tupelo. He was always hopeful and (for the most part) kind. His specialty is living with PCOS, and I guess I shouldn't have strayed from him. I will not be keeping my follow-up with Dr. Hines. He is not for me.
A while back, I set up an account with my-calorie-counter.com, and I guess now I will start using it. Tomorrow we buy a kitchen scale and a bathroom scale. We will join the gym this month. Time to make a for-real effort, and then if it doesn't work I'll know that I did the best I could. And if does, well, then at least my clothes will fit again.