Thursday, June 23, 2011

Whiplash

So, for the last three weeks I've been experiencing 'phantom smells.' Many people attributed that to pregnancy symptoms, but I've never experienced something like this before.

the best way to describe it is: In absence of real smell I smell smoke.

So I went to our GP today to be checked out and get a referral. I know I blew my physicians head, the PA who talked to me first told him I wanted three referals. I said, that I was going to end up with either a referral to an ENT (Ear Nose and throat) or Neurology and I was asking for a referral to a geneticist.

They laughed at me at first when I asked for the referral to the geneticist, but when I explained everything it made sense to them.

He asked me why I wasn't asking my OB for this referral and I said because I don't have an OB at the moment. When he asked why, I said because I can't find one that I will ethically respect. "Explain." Then I blew his head about circumcision. He said some crap about it being the parents choice. And I fired back with 'it's the parents choice to preform cosmetic surgery?'

He didn't understand.

I don't care.

Then we went on and did a Neruo evaluation and ENT evaluation and talked about the best and worst case possibilities.

Best case, it's just a bad sinus infection (with no other symptoms) worst case it's a tumor. He didn't think it was a aneurysm because I wasn't really having any other symptoms. Fucking lovely thought that is.

So I left laughing about how hard I blew up my physicians mind, he called me forceful (Lou disagreed, Lou said you're informed and you challenge them, it's threatening to them to not be blindly followed. I love that man.)

So on the way home my mind logically went to the scary place. I'm a woman, I own it.

And I thought about what if it was a tumor. Benign? Malignant? Would I consent to chemo? Radiation? Surgery?

And I was.. ...calm.

I was scary calm. Then I started talking to Lou. I asked him if we could have the 'scary' talk. And he said yeah. So we did. I told him, I'm not afraid to die. I'm afraid to leave them. And I started to cry. I started worrying about if I did have to do chemo, would Liam take to that? Would I have to forceably wean? Would it be worth it? Would I get sicker for just a few months? This is all hypothetical because, lets face it, I like to have control.

And we talked. and he said 'you'd want to just go to your happy place and enjoy the rest of your life.'

And he's right. I wouldn't want to be sick or poisoned or.. .. all that crap.

And then I laughed and told him that if I did die he had permission to change my facebook status to 'is dead.'

He laughed and said 'Oh, hell no. I'm having fun with that."

"is here! Hell is great!"

"I know I've said things about hell, but it's not that bad! It's a DRY heat!"

"DUDE!! They have strippers down here"

And we laughed. Hard.

I know many might take offence to this. But honestly, if I can't laugh about shit, I'll go nuts.

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