That's good, right? And somehow I feel incredibly let down. This whole journey started when I went to a new OB-GYN to make sure all my baby-making parts were in good working order. But then - gasp - there's blood in my urine (for months I keep saying there's urine in my blood, which is gross). Not once, but twice. So off to the urologist (pee doctor) I go. And after a CT scan to check for the big C word (during which I FAINT! Yes, faint - alone in the hallway while sitting in a wheelchair), I am told that my bladder is beautiful and there's just no telling why I have bloody pee. Great. THEN, I get a call that there is a nodule in my lung, prompting me to do that most insane thing you can do when given this kind of information: I spend hours googling nodule and am sure that I will die of lung cancer in 6 months. Go to the pulmonologist, who schedules yet another scan for 6 months down the road. Great, 6 months to obssess. What if I'm dead by then??? Appointment was today. Nodule hasn't changed as far as he can tell... This is great news. It is, really. But 2 grand and a whole bunch of specialist appointments later, I think I was kind of wishing something would be wrong. Not anything deadly, mind you, just something to make all this shit worth the time and energy spent.
Maybe it's just my addiction to drama and attention. Hmmm.
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