Everyone has a limit, and I have reached mine.

[cjsmith]

On my worst days, Vicodin feels like evidence that God doesn't actually hate me. Well, today even that's not enough.

I. Have. Had. It.

This life is not worth living. Not if there are any alternatives. I am calling the doctor TODAY and making an appointment to discuss fixing this, whatever it takes. Whether diagnosing the problem means several rounds of blood tests, or hormone balance panels, or exploratory surgery to rule out endometriosis, I'll do it. If fixing it means surgery to take all the relevant parts out, I'll sign the consent form. FIX IT. And in the meantime, I will bluntly inform my doctor that I WILL "misuse" my pills to avoid periods for the next couple of months while we start figuring this out. If he doesn't want to give me the kind of prescription that's meant to do that, I'll cobble something together on my own, thanks. I will no longer be at his mercy.

And if there isn't any fix, I want the best painkillers money can buy, regardless of what they will do to my body long-term. I no longer care. I have had enough.

[Later Edit: My appointment is the day after tomorrow.]

Comments

[cjsmith.livejournal.com]

Thank you. (Yes, like SLEEP! Two nights in a row now. Cranky CJ!)

[(Anonymous)]

Hey, don't forget, if you have to get surgery for endomitriosis (ack spelling I'm sure), and they aren't doing a hysterectomy,... if you are planning on having zero (0) (null) (zilch) children, and you haven't already done so---you could always ask for the doctor to "tie your tubes" while she's in the neighborhood. (I suppose a male doctor could do it too.) Kill, uh, two birds with one stone as it were!

;)