Livid

I've been trying to cool off for the past couple of hours. I don't know whether to cry or punch someone out.

So today was a half day for the kids. I conveniently scheduled my follow-up with my surgeon for this afternoon so I didn't have to call in a supply teacher. I left the school at 2pm so I could get to my appointment in the city at 3pm. Lucky for me there was no traffic and I made it to the office by 2:45. The wait was long (it always is), but I brought a good book to read. I was even happy to find a free chair in the waiting area.

That's when the goodness stopped.

When the doctor finally called me into his exam room he asked me if I had gotten my period. When I saw him in August that was the plan. I would make an appointment when I got my period. He seemed to have no recollection of the fact that I was hospitalized two weeks ago. I reminded him and asked if he had received a copy of my last cat scan, which he didn't. Now I thought that two weeks was long enough for the results of my last scan to make it to his office. In an era of fax machines and internet I didn't think that it would be so difficult.

Alas I was wrong.

I asked him if the abscess is going to affect my fertility, but he said that he wouldn't know until we started trying.

So basically I wasted my afternoon, missed my favourite yoga class and I have no idea if my abscess has resolved itself.

Craptastic.

Now if I didn't have to drive to the city and pay for parking and then get stuck in rush hour traffic perhaps I wouldn't be so pissed off.

I feel like I've been given the mother lode of bad luck lately. When I got into the car I just started getting angry at God. I just don't get it. I can't take it anymore. I'm tired of the hot flashes, the incision pain, the antibiotics and most of all infertility.

I have carried this cross for over four years. I hate it that I have to see so many doctors. I hate it that I have to be poked and prodded. I'm tired of taking blood tests and taking medications.

So I have to go for an ultrasound on the 22nd and then I see my surgeon right after. Then I see the infectious disease doctor and my Napro doctor on the 26th.

Was getting some sort of reassurance too much to ask?

Argh.