I don't think anyone is reading this but Kari, and she already knows, but just in case...I will update you. For those of you who are shy or squeamish, beware, because it's about to get real up in here about my lady business.
My doctor just called me. My Prolactin (sp?) levels
are elevated. Apparently, it's a hormone produced by a pituitary gland
at the base of your brain. Women who are breast feeding produce a lot of
it; it's natures way of preventing pregnancy. Apparently, elevated levels of Prolactin are a side effect of my seizure medication. It's the reason for my absent period, my hair loss, increased seizure activity, worsening acne and other things going on. So, he wants me to get an
MRI. My brain is so much fun!
Now I just have to try and get my neurologist to listen to me. Apparently, he's
brilliant, but he doesn't listen to a word I, or anyone else, says. Worse, he
won't release me from his care so that I can switch doctors. How messed up is
that? Apparently, it's very normal and it's how doctors protect themselves, but it reminds me of the Seinfield where Jerry wants to return a jacket out of spite, but they won't accept that as a reason. "We don't accept returns for spite." My doctor won't release me from his care because, "I'm unhappy with my care" isn't an acceptable reason. They want me to give him one more try, and if I'm still unhappy, then they will. It's very frustrating, because it's my body and my money. I shouldn't have to give him "one more try."
Once I do see a neurologist, I'm going to switch medications, even though the process terrifies me. (You know, the almost dying thing when I OD'd and went into a coma.) It seems like every five years my medicine starts attacking my body-- ruining my liver, giving me Lupus, and now this.
Kari asked me if I was hoping or not hoping to see certain results, and I'm assuming she was politely asking if I wished I was pregnant, which I'm sure many of you do too, so here's my complicated answer. Whenever I'm even a day late I freak out. I start making lists of all the medication I've taken that day, then I have these terrible nightmares where I'm slowly poisoning my baby and his skull is slowly deforming and his skin turning into stone. They're horrifying.
What would I do if I was pregnant? I definitely wouldn't have an abortion. I would stop taking all my medications and try to carry the baby as long as I could before both or one of us died. Sigh. If only my husband was a vampire and could immortalize me at the last second. I guess that still wouldn't work though. Even vampires can't stop seizures.
So, when I take a pregnancy test and it's negative, I'm always relieved, but I always cry after too. It's just hard to know that I won't (and can't) ever see a little pink plus sign. That minus sign is just so depressing. When I was young I always imagined that I would tell my husband that we were pregnant by serving him a dinner of baby greens, baby roasted potatoes, baby carrots, and Cornish game hen. Then for dessert I would hide the positive pregnancy test under a silver serving platter with a domed lid. I think Becky did something like that on Full House when she told Jesse she was pregnant.
I suppose I could think of something like that to do when we have a birthmother, but if I find out first, I imagine it will go something like this: Me trying to call Spencer, but being so flustered I can't work my phone, then when I finally do: He'll say, "Hi, Babe. What's up?" and I'll say, "We... I... I... I... we..." which will be followed by uncontrollable sobbing and hyperventilation. I'll try and record it for you. ;)