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The Diagnosis

3 Nov

A few days later I had my appointment with the gynecologist. That day was such a haze. I don’t even know how to describe it, and even thinking about it breaks my heart all over again. I get a knot in my throat and my heart starts beating out of control. All I remember is lying down and the doctor asking me questions. “Is there a history of diabetes in your family?” “Yes I answered.” “Does anyone have high blood pressure?” “Yes. My father and my grandfather.” “How was your period before you got on birth control?” “Heavy and painful.” I answered. For the first time, I didn’t want an answer, because the last thing I wanted to be wrong with me is fertility. The one reason why I decided to start trying earlier with my husband. She came back and did an ultrasound on me. “You’re definitely not pregnant.” Now I was just on the verge of tears. “And I see the cyst”. She stopped searching for what was going on inside of me and told me to clean up and come sit down with her. Okay, she looked at me, you might have PCOD but we have to do more tests to be sure. I looked at her and said “Yes, two family members have been diagnosed with that.” Since it’s not my mother or grandmother, I thought I was good. This shouldn’t be affecting me you know. It’s another gene that’s running in another blood line most likely.

Two weeks later. First test came back. I got a call from the doctor personally. “Okay this test came back okay, so you might not have PCOD.” I took a deep breath and exhaled quickly. Phew, that was close. I went back home ecstatic to tell my husband. She said I’m most likely good! I’m so happy, now we can definitely try again and hopefully next month I will be pregnant. But she said she’d call me back to confirm a few days later for the second batch of tests. I wasn’t sure how to feel, but knew that I was one thing at that time. And that was happy.

A few days later the phone rang. I picked up with absolutely no hesitation because I was waiting to just hear you’re clear. You’re good. “Yeah one of the tests came back borderline. You need to stop by and pick up a medication. It’s for diabetes. I will leave it at the front desk”. All that came out of my mouth was okay, okay…okay. My husband came home. I told him the doctor called. She said my sugar I guess was borderline, and I need to take medication. He said okay, but questioned what that meant. I looked at him and said I have no idea what this means. How did I all of a sudden go from maybe having PCOD to my blood sugar being off? I told him when we go to pick up the prescription, I need to go in and talk to her. He said okay. We got there and I asked them for just 5 minutes with the doctor, I need to get more clarification. Okay they said. 10 minutes later, the door opened and her nurse came out. She escorted us into the room and they doctor greeted us with a half-smile. I sat down, not sure how to begin to ask what she meant. “You told me I need to take this medication, why exactly? I didn’t understand when you called me today” “You have PCOD, so you need to take this to fix your hormones” she said. “Oh okay” deer-eyed I walked out. Another knot in my throat. My husband had no idea what she was just saying. He walked out saying “Okay good, baby you’re okay!” I looked at him and said “No, babe that’s not what she said. I’m not okay”.

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