Observations on My New Job

It’s insanely busy! Trial by fire! Allthetime! Well, since my second week. I was somewhat sheltered the first week.

I have major impostor syndrome! Like, at any moment, I’ll be unveiled as the sham I really am. Any moment now. Wait for it! I will make a Horrible Error and be forced to leave The Workforce forever.

In some ways (rose-coloured glasses n’all), it makes me think that I should have enjoyed the easy-peasy introductory months in my previous gig. It let me get accustomed to the processes and people; to understand people’s styles and preferences before I ever had to really churn anything out. Ach, well, this is what I get for ceasing to be an intern. It’s what I wanted all last year! Responsibility! Ownership!

Fucking “ownership.” See above re: impending Horrible Error.

This feeling of being incredibly overwhelmed waxes and wanes. I felt ill much of this morning, until I realized that I was actually checking items off my to-do list faster than I anticipated. Then I skipped out on cloud nine right at 5:00 pm (a first in the last two weeks, I’m pretty sure).

My insecurity at work has, in turn, made me full of EMOTION all the fucking time. Or so it seems. I’d like to just blame the pill or something, but I started that a few months before the job. So I’m blaming the job for making me absurdly weepy at the sheer thought of Cam being away a lot right now for work. Like, desperate to spend time with him whenever I can, but horrible at asking. Well, not that bad at asking. But I feel bad, resent feeling bad, etc. Yay stress! It makes me such a rational, pleasant, and even-keeled person.

Having this kind of job stress is relatively new to me. I always assumed that nothing could stress me out like school. So far that remains the case. But now I wonder if, in the long term, I might need a more effective stress management technique than Not Being in School.

I’m already actively trying to knock myself into some perspective – this challenging job is one I want. I’m stressed because I want to continue to do well, not because I’m sucking. I’m also stressed, of course, because I’m still on a contract and have to prove myself and blah blah blah, but it’s not like there’s anything Wrong in my life, in a major sense. Yay challenge! Buck the fuck up!

Also, handily, my new commute takes me around the same area as my first job in this city. The frequent reminders of that gig have also reminded me that I’ve ‘owned’ incredibly busy, multi-faceted projects before. I’ve had to ‘brief up’ and get approval on things. The environment was so different (and so hilariously supportive) that it felt relatively un-intimidating. But if I was capable and valued there, surely I can be both in this new job.

Which is to say, fear not, dear readers. I do have some perspective and I’m working on calming myself the hell down.

Land of Milk and Honey – Two Years Later

Almost two years after moving to this city, I still feel more or less ambivalent about living here (hah – notice how I say ‘more or less’? I can’t even commit to feeling ambivalent about it!). I’ve done a lot, Cam’s done a lot, we’ve both grown professionally and personally. For example (more for my own benefit):

• We’ve lived in two apts. (thank GOD we’re not moving this year), on more or less opposite sides of town (opposite according to me, not anyone who drives). Our individual shares of the rent are now more than our total rent was in BA/MA City. Sigh.
• I finished a degree; got a full-time job with benefits; went through a 4-month recruiting process to land an internship with essentially the same pay but no benefits; worked at the internship for a year; got offered and accepted a 6-month contract at a different part of the same organization that still offers no benefits, but comes with a healthy salary increase and could  becoming a permanent position (commence finger-crossing and knocking on wood like crazy). Now take a huge breath, while you laugh at the thought of me saying that all at break-neck pace.
  • I started the new gig on Monday. I now have my dream job title – well, one I started dreaming about a little over 2 years ago, once we decided we were moving here and I needed to figure out what the eff to DO.  I’m excited about this in theory, though in practice I’m not quite sure I’ll be working on what I’d most like to be doing… but meh. I have a job! In the right (general) area! I might be able to start paying down my student loan more quickly AND save! Woot and also woot.
• I also eventually started trying to build what I consider to be Life things into this city – volunteering; French class… things in the city itself, you know?
• Cam spent the better part of a year freelancing, essentially learning a new aspect of his trade; got recruited to work for one company in town doing that “new aspect;” worked non-stop most of the time, especially in the summer; got treated like crap and had his job security taken away around St. Patty’s day when the company freaked about the economy; and continues to work for the same company, pulling more hours if anything (despite the freak-out and attempt to change his terms of employment in March).
• Oh, yeah, he also found one band and one singer-songwriter to play drums with; recorded an album for the latter and then shortly thereafter begged off that commitment. He continues to play with the band, which he enjoys more anyway… when they can find the time.

On the one hand, our lives here have been and are very full and rewarding. Professional growth and opportunities; lots of cool  people doing great things. Cheap, diverse food (and expensive food, if you want it); cool services; more cultural activities than you have time (or money) to take in; and lots of old friends and new friendships to kindle.

So what’s my problem?

I can think of a few reasons I don’t *love* living here.

It takes too long to get around.  Public transit is expensive and over-crowded. Owning a second car unaffordable AND unappealing. Biking, my once favourite way of getting around, is now a little less appealing – following my accident last year and my on-going butt/back issues (not to mention the crap weather over the past year).  I second-guess whether I want to do plenty of things because of the hassle of getting there/getting around. It’s a little easier if Cam is around and driving is feasible.

This transportation stuff makes me feel trapped by City, when some of my favourite things to do involve not being in a city. I could probably do a better job of getting over this one, if I could just accept that it’ll take time to get places. But I HATE sitting in traffic, etc. I think a partial solution would be sucking it up and buying a monthly transit pass, so I don’t calculate whether every move will be worth a token.

This is really the only specific thing I can come up with. Otherwise? Uhhh… not sure.

It’s just… a grind.

But is that the city, or working life? Do I just continue hoping I win the lotto and can retire to a life of leisure and philanthropy? Do I try to do more, or should I be doing less? Research other cities? Move back to Home City? Go out and party every weekend this summer? Sign up for yoga? Take more French and hope one day to know enough to be able to live internationally or at least back in BA/MA City? Augh! I don’t know what, exactly, will make me feel better about being here. I wish I could figure it out, though, because I don’t think we’re going anywhere anytime soon.

Cuba Cuba

We went to Cuba! A bonafide holiday,  with no relatives, no itinerary, no obligations. I love y’all in Home City, but it gets a little tiresome to spend all our non-work time there (most holidays longer than a long weekend, anyway).

Because we’re not exactly loaded, and had limited time, we booked an all-inclusive. Which I felt weird about, and still kind of do. We did our best to find a resort that would be the least annoying for us – all the reviews noted how relatively quiet this place was; how removed from the “action” of the main tourist peninsula. Perfect. And the ability to snorkel from the beach? Even better.

We also chose the place because it was closer to Havana. We had great hopes of going into the city and staying overnight at a casa particular, but that ended up being more complicated than our overheated vacation brains could handle. And we didn’t want to really blow the bank, since we’d already paid a fair bit (for us, anyway) just to be at the resort. In sum, laziness won and we took a government cab to the city one morning at 8, and had the same taxi pick us up at 11pm that night. Needless to say, we tipped our extremely nice and very accommodating cab driver very well. And gave him a ball cap for his son.

Anyway! Havana is wild. “Contrasts” seems mild. We got hassled and hustled less than I expected, and the language barrier + heat zapped me more than I anticipated. And, tragically, we had out-dated info about when the show would start at one of the main music places in town, so we ended up wasting our last 1.5 hours in a Cuban ‘cafeteria’, eating ‘pizza’ and drinking rum drinks. Ah, well.

After the intensity of Havana, we got a lot better at Lying on the Beach. We read, did crosswords, swam, paddle-boated, ate, drank, swam, etc. Smoked a few cigars. And we enjoyed an unexpected benefit of resorts – people watching! We developed names and back stories for our favourites. There was the Plantation Owner, the Volleyball Stars, the Doppelgangers… it was a good time. We also went on a couple other small excursions from the resort, which always seemed to feature at least a few horribly awkward tourist moments. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so acutely like a tourist, in the most negative sense of the word, as I did in Cuba.

I would definitely go back. Differently – milk a few of Cam’s contacts in Home City who are connected to music programs in the country, and try to stay in Casas. Don’t get me wrong, though – I’m satisfied with the holiday and don’t regret it. Cam and I passed relaxation 101, and are probably ready to continue our training in other exciting locales.

Trying to picture the square jammed for a speech by Castro

View of the beach from the beach grill. Sigh.

Pop Quiz

1) ‘Destroyed in Seconds’, a TV show featuring Real Life footage of destruction, explosions and other mayhem is:

a) An excellent choice for Emergency Room programming.

b) An odious choice for Emergency Room programming.

c) Suitable for Emergency Rooms, since only people who are fine pay atttention to it, helping triage nurses assess their priority.

2. Being woken up with the worst cramps of your life, and then having some weird stuff happen is:

a) Worthy of calling the nurses line thingy and becoming somewhat hysterical, and then following her instructions (despite your skepticism once the pain has passed) to go to the Emergency Room.

b) A normal part of aging.

c) A sign of aliens inhabiting your body.

3. Taking up Tennis involves:

a)  Straining muscles.

b) Buying the racket and then pretending you’re playing badminton, causing your partner to run after countless tennis balls.

c) Cute outfits.

4) Having suffered fairly accute back pain makes a person:

a) Likely to take up yoga.

b) Eager to begin swimming laps.

c) Willing to go to a chiropracter, but shockingly unmotivated to take other drastic action.

5.  Having a job interview, when you know with %100 certainty that you won’t get the job, causes:

a) So much stress you have the runs for 3 days.

b) Complete destruction of your morale, followed by feelings of gratitude for the experience of the interview.

c) You to question every Life Choice.

6.  Using tax return money to go to an all-inclusive in Cuba, despite the Economy and relatively little job/income security, is:

a) Awesome.

b) Idiotic.

c) A sign of one’s deeply bourgeois wanna-be nature.

7. If you are lucky enough to be given a choice between working in a huge machine, where you will Learn a Lot, or a small, special machine, where you will work in your field, the obvious solution is to:

a) Go to the big machine and get on with Getting a Permanent Job.

b) Go to the small machine with your fingers crossed and a grin on your face.

c) Run away and join a travelling freak show.

8. Having a big meeting in another city that you are thrilled and nervous to attend is a good excuse to:

a) Pester your manager daily with questions and ‘updates’.

b) Pester many other colleagues with questions and requests.

c) Buy some new clothes.

9. spare teeth should:

a) Recognize that she has all but abandoned this blog, that it became far too boring, and that she should just stop blogging.

b) Start a new blog that is invite-only, allowing her to be slightly freer in her discussions.

c) Start a new blog with an actual focus, maybe on something she would be comfortable talking about openly on the internet – meaning it would likely be flakey, with occasional bouts of earnestness.

Leave your answers in the comments! You may answer all or some of the questions.

Bonne chance!!

Ding Dong

The cyst is gone!

Harmless cyst,

Little cyst.

Ding Dong,

The ovarian cyst is gone!

Ahem.

Went to the gyno this morning. The cyst has ‘resolved itself’. The hormones were normal. So guess what else?

Ding Dong,

the IUD is gone!

Copper T,

Not for me!

Ding Dong,

the IUD is gone!

Now my poor little uterus has a ‘month of rest’, while I determine whether or not I genuinely want to try the other IUD. I think so…. but I’m glad to have more time to think. I was also thrilled at how easy the removal was, in comparison with the horrific insertion experience I had almost two years ago.

Man, this blog has become a very dull rehearsing of my ailments – the back/butt continues to be a problem AND – guess what? I was up last night with evil guts! So I am home sick today.

Did I ever mention I have a plantars wart, too?

Boy am I ever hot shit these days! It’s hard to beat away the suitors, but I’m managing, thanks for asking.

It’s Pouring

Because it never rains, right? Here’s a brain dump post. Allow me to loosely group the following random, scattered updates as

Things I have Learned in 2009 (to date):

• Having friends who will fix your computer and make it go is awesome. Especially when they are happy to be paid in beer – well, happy to be unpaid, and particularly pleased with beer.

• Taking French is Awesome. It can let you refresh your knowledge, learn some new vocab., and, even more importantly, at least putt a slight stopper in the drain that existing French skills start going down after leaving a bilingual environment.

• Children’s books are great, especially in your second language and when your partner will politely let you read them to him for practice, and help you with the hard words.

• Volunteering in a sex-ed-y type role is also Awesome.

• Being out two nights a week can make you a little weary when you’re not used to it anymore, and oddly wound up about having meals sorted from Monday-Thursday, so you don’t have to think in the busy, early part of the week.

• Carrying around a low-level of stress in the back of your mind more or less at all times about things that are totally or mostly out of your control is also tiring, and contributes to the wounded-ness.

• It’s not a nice idea to take this out on your partner, even if you don’t mean too.

• Work sometimes gets unrelentlessly busy just when you’ve set up your life to be full outside of work, to compensate for the job being too slow.

• There are likley limits to how much ‘personality’ managing one can do, and how much one can ‘rise above’, before you just want to tell everyone to Fuck Off And Die.

• File Folders give wicked paper cuts.

• Traveling for work is Overrated.

• Shooting pain in your ass is probably a pinched nerve.

• Falling off your bike  may cause your pelvis to become out of line (higher on one-side), causing all kinds of awkwardness in your posture, that becomes more and more annoying over more than a year, until you eventually go to the Dr., figuring you’ve just been too lazy and/or have destroyed your back with years of poor posture and not enough ab crunches. This issue may contribute to the pinched nerve, though that could also just be from too much sitting.

• This knowledge doesn’t always mean you act immediately and promptly to find the chiropractor the Dr. highly recommended. There can be so much going on, you still don’t get around to it. Sigh. Tomorrow??

• Taking anti-inflammatories to help alleviate the pinched nerve pain can be a little rough on your guts. It’s also annoying when you discover you’ll have to call your insurance company and fight with them about why it wouldn’t go through on your drug plan.

• However, it’s nice to feel as though maybe not everything that’s fucked up in your back is expressly YOUR FAULT.

• Sometimes, gynocologists are bumbling old men who almost let you go before even reading all of your file and knowing why the hell you’re there in the first place.  Never mind that you’re missing 2 hours of work on an insane day for him to grace you with 7 minutes of his time.

• If your first ultrasound showed a ‘very small ovarian cyst’, your Doctor might not mention it. But the bumbling gynocologist will, and tell you you’re too young for cancer, they’re very common, but it needs to be followed up. Thanks for the fucking clear explanation, douche bag.

• Ovarian cysts, if they are ‘dermoid cysts’, can be full of hair, teeth, and even brains. I shit you not (a friend had a recent experience with this, and the gyno added the brains example). (I hope I have some other kind of cyst, and that I never have to have it removed surgically The surgery sounds pretty brutal to recover from).

• Apparently, IUDs can suddenly, after a while with no problems, cause problems. Your uterus gets ‘irritated’ , so you bleed more. Or something.

• Apparently, sonohysterograms look at a different part of your uterus (inside) than the ultrasound, so if you don’t have fibroids inside the actual cavity, they won’t likely show up. Or be clear. Or something like that.

• All of which is to say: you can have a fibroid on the outside wall of your uterus (or something), but it shouldn’t cause heavy bleeding (apparently), and won’t cause miscarriages. This is good to hear, even if the bumbling gynocologist doesn’t do a good job explaining this at all.

• But it means you’ll probably want to get rid of the IUD. Since it’s probably causing the excessive bleeding.

• But first, the bumbling gynocologist will want you to get your hormones tested on a specific day of your cycle, and then also get the additional fucking ultrasound (for the cyst) also on a specific time in your cycle, and then have you come back for another ‘consult’ and likely removal of the IUD.

• Have I mentioned that work is guaranteed to busy when everything else goes awry, and you need to make a bunch of personal calls to sort out appts., go the appts., and not let all this crap bother you because WORK IS FULL OF ANNOYING TASKS THAT NEED TO BE DONE in the SAME time span as all this personal crap? And that you then end up pulling long days, getting tired, and annoyed with your colleagues? (see above)

• However, you can get lucky and find morning and evening times for the tests, at least.  And having a good manager helps.

You know, it’s not so so bad. I guess the stress of not having a permanent position is grating, as is my general worry for my (economic and reproductive) future and the (economic, especially) well-being of my family. Man, you know, it’s all manageable and I have great support; I have work for now, a supportive partner, no dependents, etc., etc. I guess it’s the uncontrollable stuff that’s making me so  NUTSO about everything.

Let me end on a ridiculous note – we have  couch now with that ‘micro-suede’ covering – essentially polyester. So it’s pretty damn staticky right now, and especially staticky for the cat. She gets shocked all the time, and then tries to figure out what shocked her – pawing the couch, sometimes biting Cam or I if she gets shocked while we pat her… it’s amusing and tragic.

I guess that says a lot about my state of mind – the cat is keeping me amused. Crazy cat ladydom, 2009 may be the year I join you.

It’s a Christmas Miracle!

Those who know me know that I have a habit of latching on to various turns of phrase and repeating them ad nauseum. Kind of like a 4-year-old. 3-year-old? Whatever. For the past week and a bit, I’ve been proclaiming things Christmas Miracles. I’m an agnostic with strong atheist leanings, remember, so bear this in mind while enjoying the list of miracles I’ve proclaimed – outwardly or inwardly – this holiday season.

I.   Last Friday it snowed like crazy all day – from 7:30am to approx. 4:30 pm. I trekked home full of dread – Cam was going to be out all night, so I figured I was going to be screwed with shoveling the small walk, and the long driveway. But lo! The winds and the nearby tall buildings blew ALL THE SNOW OFF THE SIDEWALK outside our house! And in the middle of the driveway! AND, the neighbours had cleared out the back parking pad. All I had to do was shovel a small drift from the top of the driveway, and the walk up to the house. A Christmas Miracle!

II.  Cam and I watched the forecast nervously from Tuesday onwards – in addition to Friday’s storm, there was a mess forecast for Sunday. The day we were supposed to leave for Home City. The forecast was probably worst on Tuesday or Wednesday, and by Friday night it was looking pretty good. For here. But bad weather was also due for Home City to hit Sunday night. Oh no!  But we had another Christmas Miracle, and landed safely in Home City with, no word of a lie, about 20 minutes to spare before near white-out conditions hit the city.

III.   Cam’s brother got stuck in BA/MA City on Monday night. But then! He happened to hear about a bus being run by Evil Airline. And he was one of the 50 (out of 200 stranded) to get on this bus – the others, presummably, were fucked. He arrived a little tired, but he arrived. A Christmas Miracle!

IV.   Parental relations were pretty smooth on both our fronts. I’m a stressed about my parents’ professional outlook (in these Times of Economic Turmoil), but personally? I had a much better visit than last year this time. No fight with my father! My mother was remarkably unstressed! A Christmas Miracle – helped, undoubtdely, by keep a low, but relatively steady, blood alcohol level in my system.

V.   Our flight back to LMH was even less eventful than the flight to Home City. More delayed, but less turbulence and concern about ‘making it’. A frigging Christmas Miracle.

Anyway, you get the point. The holidays were good, with the notable exception of financial news. Other highlights included a caroling party the week before we left, our holiday party – which featured carols, and other revelry – and eating 2 Christmas dinners. I’m ready for the New Year. And hope that it involves winning the lottery. I guess I’ll have to buy tickets.

Oh Holy (HackHackHack) Night…

The long-anticipated choir concerts were this week, Monday-Thursday inclusive.

A week ago Tuesday, in the early afternoon, my throat started burning. It felt like a million tiny knives were scratching it from the inside. The next day I felt like there were a zillion little warm, iron ball bearings weighing me down and making me uncomfortable, especially in my lower back and joints. I also had a ‘useless cough’ – totally dry, but uncontrollable. It would just crop up and make me cough a little pathetic cough every few minutes. If I were someone else listening to me, I’d think I was faking.

Thursday was about the same. By Friday the cough was Serious. Loud, hacking, but still not really moving any phlegm around. Just destroying my throat/voice – see where I’m going with this?

Last weekend was busy with a yearly tradition on Cam’s side of the family. As last year, his Gramma was in town for the event, so we spent Saturday with her and doing errands and then spent Sunday at the event. And another friend’s event. With me sucking cough drops constantly, and whining about being exhausted. Fun times! I was the best company ever! Oh, and each morning, I had basically no voice from coughing all night.

Same story Monday morning – no voice, feel exhausted. Cam implored me to stay home, but no! “I can’t!”, croaked/squeaked I. I must go to the choir concert!!

Not long after I arrived, my Manager also told me to go home. I insisted I felt better than I sounded (which was 90% true, since I sounded pretty horrible), and wanted to do the choir. Though the day was nutters, my Manager and coworkers covered me and encouraged me to go. Off I went.

I got more sound out than I thought I would, though pretty much anything above a D had to be lipsynched. The setting was grand, we sounded mostly-okay, and there was a nice little audience. Sadly, there were also lots of soloists I didn’t know about until last Thursday when we got the concert programs (I say sadly because boring! I want to sing! Also… some questionable quality. Just saying). So there was a lot of waiting around, which was good for sneaking cough drops. And, as it turned out, for turning around and fleeing as a massive coughing fit came on.

That’s right, as a soloist was being introduced I got that special tickle in my throat. One that only means one thing: I’m in for a gag-inducing (literally), massive, snot-filled, disgusting, and completely uncontrollable coughing fit that often terrifies those around me as I gasp for air and am unable to reassure them that I’m fine.

Fuck.

Fortunately, I was near the back, so I could escape. I made a beeline for the first door I saw, and ended up in an unusual spot (that I’m not specifying, to protect some anonymity) where I was tolerated as I hacked, snotted, and then hid out until the end of the concert. It sucked! I missed the last 4 songs.

Although the cold probably encouraged this fit, they are by no means limited to when I’m sick – they can strike at any time, but seem to particularly like embarrassing public places (work, the drycleaner, public transit, etc., etc.).

Anyway, I still did the other 3 concerts, which got better and better. They were in a different venue, which allowed smuggling in of water to keep my throat lubricated. I also stuffed my music binder full of unwrapped drops, which seemed to help. And, as suspected, my voice was just about fine by yesterday – the day of no concerts.

I guess I am too simple-minded to understand politics

Here’s the thing: I thought that in Canada, we didn’t directly elect our Prime Minister.

Instead, we all vote for our Members of Parliament, and whoever is leading the party with the most seats at the end of all the voting gets to be the Prime Minister (obviously it helps if that leader also wins their own seat). Sure, some people vote for their MP based on which party leader they like best. But we elect our MPs. Not the Prime Minister (unless, of course, we live in their riding).

So… all this talk about how Canada rejected the other leader, chose the current leader… it’s inaccurate, is it not? I mean in principle?

Besides which, isn’t it also normal for minority governments to compromise, cooperate, and get on with the business of government? And if the Prime Minister and his party fail to manage those dynamics, well, some people did vote for those other guys, after all, so why not let them have a go at it?

WHAT THE FUCK PEOPLE. What the fuck.

Also, regardless of your loyalties, I think any level-headed person must object on some level to how the whole issue has been presented and controlled by the Tories. Well, in my love of accuracy, I find it revolting in its appeal to hysteria about things being Un-Canadian, Undemocratic, etc., etc. Oh, and that the involvement of the Terrifying Separatists is Dangerous for Canada (nevermind that they simply agreed to vote with the coalition)

Of course, Dion didn’t do himself any favours with his eloquence last night. I understand and happen to think phrases like ‘derive their legitimacy’ are refreshing and precise. However, I don’t think that this type of language resonates with many people.

Oh, all the disingenious bullshit that has flown about. Goddammit it all to hell. On the one hand, I’m infuriated, and fascinated that this is actually happening. On the other hand, it all just pisses me off.

A couple of insightful comments from around my workplace:

“You’re about to get a pink slip at work, and the bank has foreclosed on your home. You don’t go on a 2 month vacation to think about it!!”

“All those MPs should be sent to the North Pole and forced to live in one big house and make it work.”

In sum: spare teeth will never be a politician. She is far too simple minded and interested in fair, accurate arguments (that still manage to be compelling and understandable – perhaps unlike this post, which burst out after one too many frustrating quote and interview on the news).

(edit to add: look! now it’s all OVER for now, something in the news highlighting that the coalition, etc., IS all legal and constitutional. Never again do I want to hear about Canada’s ‘left wing’ media!!)

When Bits are… Confusing

Attention those who don’t want to read about my Womanly Issues:

Don’t read this post.

Brother, this means you!!

**************

I had my sonohysterogram this morning. It was kind of icky, but not as bad as I had feared. I think the 2 advil I took an hour before helped minimize any cramping, so it was a little weird but not horrible. There was a doctor watching the screen while the technician fished around with the wand. The doctor was pretty quick to provide his assesment, which wasn’t something I anticipated as there had only been a technician present for the striaght-up ultrasound.

Anyway, it was the Dr’s assessment that left me confused. He confidently announced that my IUD was in good position (yeah, I know, thanks) and that there was nothing ’structurally wrong’ with my uterus.

me: “What about the fibroid or fibroids?”

Dr: “There isn’t one.”

me: “Really? My family Dr. told me I had one!”

Dr: (looking at the screen again) “Well, maybe this is what she’s looking at” (pointing at something indistinguisable on the screen, but possibly a darker shade of black?). “But even if that’s a fibroid, it’s on the outside (or something about the outer side, or something), so it shouldn’t be any problem.”

me: “???”

Dr: “See how it’s on the outside here; with a pregnancy it would just grow out, if at all”.

me: “??? So…. it wouldn’t be causing the excess bleeding??”

Dr: “No. The gynecologist might be able to give you some drugs to help with that.”

Obviously this is an approximation of our conversation, more than 12 hours later. This is what I remember. Oh, and he then offered to give me the results to bring myself to the gyno appointment, so long as I wouldn’t “lose them” (??!!). Erm, I opted to have them mail them, knowing my fabulous ability to forget things or get overly stressed about remembering them.

Anyway! While you might think I’d be super pumped – no roid(s)! no future fertility issues!! – I’m not. I was left really, really cold by the whole experience. I think a lot of it had to do with the Dr.’s bedside manner. I typically like ‘to-the-point’ clinicians who treat me as an intelligent person in charge of my health. In this case, however, he just seemed flippant. As though I shouldn’t question his asssesment, or really even care whether or not I had a fibroid, since it shouldn’t be causing any problems even if it was a fibroid.

Right. No problem. One Dr. tells me one thing, you tell me the opposite – sort of – and I’m supposed to just trundle off and be happy with it?

Don’t get me wrong – I’m thrilled if I don’t actually have fibroids, especially if this means one fewer potential ‘problem’ when I want to get pregnant. One less thing to worry about, anyway. But since I only have two (more or less) opposing opinions, I’m not convinced. After all, the second opinion wasn’t even entirely convinced that I don’t have a fibroid, but maybe ‘just’ one that “shouldn’t be a problem.” Great, thanks for clearing this up.

Besides which, if this Dr.’s diagnosis of no fibroid is correct – for example, if the Gyno agrees and I can confidently assume I have no roid(s) – where does that leave me with my marathon womanly times? Get rid of the IUD and hop onto the pill? Um, no thanks. Get rid of the IUD and do something else? Humph. We’ll see.

I left the imaging clinic feeling very much like throwing a pity party. It reminded me of how I felt following a particularly horrible pap test. Just… gross. And lonely. Something about being prodded in my lady bits with very little empathy is just nasty. I actually might have preferred if it was just a clinician who wasn’t allowed to say anything to me about the results. At least I wouldn’t be any more confused about the situation.

In lieu of a pity party, I got myself a large mochachino. Which was too sweet. I should have just had a latte (pitypitypity). I kind of surprised even myself, however, when I got to the office and decided to call the gynecologist’s office and cancel my appointment for next week. Well, reschedule. For early February, when they’re currently booking. My rationale? The original appointment was next Thursday. The last Christmas Choir Concert is that day, not long after my appointment time, making it very likely that I would miss the concert. It was already bothering me that I ‘had’ to go to this appointment, especially knowing that this might be the last time I sing in choir for some time. I also knew how grumpy I was every time pesky ‘work’ got in the way of going to rehearsals.

I suppose it was the combination of my existing disappointment about likely missing that concert with this morning’s confusing and annoying appointment that led me to opt for choir over gyno. I still think it’s a slightly bizarre decision – am I being self-destructive? Irresponsible? Running away from the inevitability of getting rid of my IUD? A part of me is wondering about these possibilities.

But to be honest, after my lonely frustration this morning I’m happy with the decision. It feels deliciously indulgent – isn’t that ridiculous? I’m ‘indulging’ in a choir concert over a specialist appointment. And yet, I’ve lived with the marathon womanly times for 8 months. If the answer is going to be ‘remove the IUD, and try the pill again’, I can wait another 2 months.