When I called the second time to ask the nurse about these weird symptoms, and for the second time took the recommended pregnancy test (and got the sigh-of-relief negative result), she scheduled me for an appointment.  Actually, her words were "add an appointment because this seems urgent."  I appreciate that she was so into getting me taken care of, but her next words, "the doctor will want to do a biopsy to rule out uterine cancer straightaway" were less than comforting.

So in I went today, stressed out as hell because 1) DD's preschool is closed for the holidays, and b) we're having our cat put to sleep at 5:30.  (That's a whole nother entry.  Which I may never be able to write due to emotional trauma and the soggy keyboard which would result.)  I find coverage for DD (thank heaven for good friends) and go for the appointment.  I was shaking, terrified, certain that my instant karma would create the following equation:

put cat to sleep= get incurable cancer

Totally (in)appropriately, I joke with the nurse during the whole co-pay/ blood pressure/ pee in a cup process.  Doctor Charming comes in, asks after that 'great big girl we delivered" (DD was 9 lbs, but I don't remember Dr. Charming doing a damn bit of pushing during that process), asks a few questions, and announces that I don't have cancer- I have an old uterus.

Thanks so much for that.  Prick.

So he writes me a script for a new bc pill (Now with More Estrogen!) guaranteeing a cranky, fat, mood swing-y holiday and sends me on my way.

Yippee.