TODD! You've been warned!
So, as some of you may know, I've been having issues with my iron levels for the last several months. My doctor has put me on iron supplements since before Thanksgiving, but the only real change has been that I've dropped almost 20 pounds due to constant nausea.
That's the good news.
Yesterday I went in to find out the results of yet another blood draw. Now, my doctor is sort of like one of those holiday movie elves who are cute in a sort of elfish way, and they're short and talk with a "voice on 45 RPM" tone. (Older folks are going to get that, the rest of you think "Alvin and the Chipmunks.") Anyway, Doctor comes in with my results (on a laptop because that's what they all do
|"...and if I can't be a dentist, I want to be Sarah's doctor!"|
Now, first of all, "menses" is such a throw-back word. I mean, the word "Menses" make me think of my grandmother...and now also of my elfin doctor.
I explain that my punctuation has been sort of like a clearing house "everything must go" sale. I figured the crimson tide was due to me being almost, but not quite, at the end of my monthly punctuation essays, and so Mount St. Helen's I was experiencing was not a big deal. (BTW, anyone searching the internet for news on Alabama is going to be a tiny bit disappointed in this blog. Roll Tide. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!)
Apparently it is.
See, Santa's helper explained, there are two reasons someone is anemic (which I guess I am). The first is lack of absorption. My test levels are ridiculously low in that arena, but they are within the spectrum of normal. (looking at the numbers, it's like saying "Scoring one field goal in an NFL game is as normal as scoring five touchdowns." I'm on the board...but really, there's a lot of room for improvement.) So the next thing Dr. Elf looks at is output. Where is the iron going.
I can answer that.
My daily constitutional has taken on a rather...um...let's call it a sexy jet black appearance.
Hey, I warned you!
Anyway, Dr. Elf figures my iron release is far too much given the fact that my menses (who else is giggling...just me?) is such a drawn out Vesuvius. So...he has decided that while we are going to search for bleeds and pollops in the gut and butt (endoscopy and colonoscopy scheduled on the same day, lucky me...and oh yes, there will be blogs!) we are also going to send me to a GYN specialist to...and I'm not making this up...
PUT. ME. ON. BIRTH. CONTROL. PILLS.
People at my church who are reading this are either laughing or swearing off my blog at this point.
Yep, a woman who got her tubes cauterized twenty years ago, and who is maybe a year away from menopause (BRING IT ON) is now going to be put on the birth control pill to regulate my punctuation so that I am no longer anemic.
Now I realize (my adult children felt the need to inform me of this because I used to be on the pill back in the Dark Ages...you know, before my adult children were born, and therefore before time began and therefore before anyone intelligent was around) that the pill is out there for so much more than preventing pregnancy. And Dr. Elf quite simply did not understand why I was laughing so hard when he told me this. I know, it regulates hormones and all that. I get it.
I just think the idea of being on the pill is so funny.
I was laughing right up to the time I had to talk to the colonoscopy lady about prepping for that....