All of this, plus rice pudding for lunch.

So, today I met with a new gynecologist.

If there are any boys in the room, please know that I’m keeping this clean, and by “keeping this clean” I am not referring to any of my parts. “Keeping this clean” means that you will be able to read the following words without wincing. Hopefully. Because, come on. We are adults here.

Brief history: The gynecologist I had seen for nearly 20 years hinted that we reached an impasse last October when I refused to let her shoot drugs into my system that would throw me into a chemically-induced menopause. The new gynecologist I met with in November refuses to see me (despite my crazy ovulation pain), and has done nothing more than toss Vicodin prescription paper airplanes into my face when I call to ask for an appointment.

My general practitioner listened to all of my woes, scheduled a colonoscopy for kicks, and said, “I think you should meet my friend Dr. Patty.”

(Please know that her name isn’t really Patty. BUT, I used to have a neighbor named Patty who had a daughter who shares a name with my doctor’s friend. I’m asking YOU who’s on first. That’s the man’s name. That’s who’s name? YES.)

Anyway, Dr. Patty’s first appointment was six weeks out, so I waited fairly patiently. Today was the day.

After taking my blood pressure (120/70!) and establishing that I’m sane, the nurse told me to keep my clothes on for Dr. Patty. I was very relieved to hear this, because I had forgotten to pack socks in my bag. (That’s a thing with me. Always carry socks when you’re going to the doctor. Nobody wants to see your feet. Not even yours.)

Dr. Patty entered the room and I immediately liked her the way that I immediately liked my migraine doctor. She’s calm. Nice. Probably does yoga, but I really have no idea.

After pulling out my crazy 3 x 5 card onto which I had written every single detail about the past 12 months,* Dr. Patty said the words I’ve been waiting to hear.

“Okay. You’re a skinny white girl who doesn’t smoke, drink, or do drugs. Your vital signs are all normal. In other words, there’s really no need for me to say, ‘Why don’t you try X, Y, or Z and see if that helps?’. I think you have endometriosis and what you’re describing to me points toward you having endometriosis spread out in weird places.”

She then went on to say this:

“We can throw more pills at you, but people have been throwing pills at you for over a year now. I normally don’t jump to this, but, have you considered any surgical options?”

Me: I love you.

Dr. Patty: Excuse me?

Me: My sister had the same stuff going on a few years back, and she had a hysterectomy. She said it’s the best decision she’s ever made.**

Dr. Patty: Perfect. Even more of a reason to consider it. If someone genetically similar to you had a similar issue and it was fixed, I’m leaning toward a repeat.

She then went on to say that although she knows that she’s a very good surgeon, she would like for my surgery to be performed by someone who specializes in endometriosis.

Dr. Patty: If I get in there and things look really bad, I’m obviously going to do my best to clear it up. If he gets in there and things are really bad, it’s just another day in the life for him.

(She then had me take off my pants, and I didn’t want to because I FORGOT MY SOCKS. And she said, “Every day of my life is filled with periods and feet. Don’t even think about it.”)

All of this to say: I have a consultation with an endometrial specialist next week, and I couldn’t be happier. (Please know that I’ve been through more than you know in the past year when it comes to gynecologic issues. In other words, I’m turning off comments on this one.)

*When I say that I wrote every detail about the past 12 months on a 3×5 card, please know that I’m just referring to my lady part details. There’s nothing on that card about me choosing a favorite ink color for my fountain pen (ochre!). Also, it says nothing about how I’ve been practicing different spinning techniques (like from the fold!).

**When I say that a hysterectomy is the best decision my sister has ever made, please know that I’m once again speaking gynecologically. My sister is pretty much full of outstanding decisions.

Had I remembered to take socks this morning, I would have taken these. I finished the first one SIX YEARS AGO. I finished the second one last week.

Anniversary Socks

(Yes. I just put those socks up to clear your head of everything else we just talked about. SOCKS! Blue ones!) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>