Caution: pity party ahead

Today the floor was made of lava, and still littered with martini glasses from Sunday’s soiree. I peed, drank a litre of water in 15 minutes, and dragged my full bladder to Pacific Radiology in Newtown ,where I incorrectly took off my pants for a woman who covered my cunt with paper towels and squirted jelly on my belly. “There’s your bladder on the screen,” she said, pointing to the ominous big black shape on the screen. “I give you a 9/10 for fullness. I never give a ten.” Then I was allowed to pee, before she gave me a foot long probe and told me to insert it like a tampon. Luckily, I’m somewhat of a pro at that. She asked me to press down on a certain part of my belly so she could move my ovaries around. Apparently they’re on really loose ligaments. Who knew? Anyway, it appears that yes, my ovaries are full of cysts, but at least my uterus lining is okay. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I guess I’ll find out at my follow-up with the gynecologist on Thursday, as well as get the results of the blood tests I had done the other week. Thank you, public health system. Apart from the fact that they sent me a letter addressed to “Baby Joanna McLeod”, which is pretty fucking insensitive for a girl who’s clearly having problems with her reproductive system.

Speaking of my name, someone came here googling “secret anti joanna mcleod hubris tumblr” – does such a thing exist? I MUST KNOW. And if it doesn’t exist (I couldn’t find it anyway) can someone please start one and give me publishing rights on it too? I’m sure I periodically hate myself much more than anyone else ever could!  Today I was so emo that after I went to dinner at my parents’ house, I drove all the way around the South Coast listening to Placebo.  I think it helped, a little bit.

It’s hard, because it’s been over a month, and I am still very… uncomfortable. That’s a word I could use. It’s a word to describe the intense panicky heartrate and fight reactions I had at the dentist, and also today a little whilst being scanned. It’s a word to describe how things are when paths occasionally cross, and it’s definitely the word to describe how my friends appear to be when I talk about it. Because of course they’re bored of it, of my not being over it, and how I will reference it in casual conversation, and they don’t know how to react or what to do about it. It’s how I feel because I would like to confront it, because that’s my preferred way of dealing with things, but uncomfortable was the reaction of someone else who would rather just forget it. And meanwhile I wonder what the implications are for my future, how I will deal with other people when they get around to touching me.

Oh and of course, me being me, that’s not at all the only drama in my life, because of course I make things way too complicated and stupid and dumb. And I’m so busy right now, there’s pretty much not an empty day in my calendar until March. That’s good for my #11in’11 challenges, but not so good for the noise in my head, if I can’t sleep because I’m trying to figure out what to wear to all these millions of social events, and how I will function at all of them, and also wondering why people would want to see me when I’m just going to get drunk and insult them. And then when I do sleep, I dream about apocalypses. Speaking of which, I guess it’s that time again right now.

7 responses to “Caution: pity party ahead”

  1. Sucko about the ovary business but glad you are getting one step closer in the road to feeling well on the reproductive organ front again!



  2. ah jo, i really just wanna pick u up and hug you. hopefully this new year ends better than the last


  3. None of this sounds REMOTELY fun. Im so sorry you have to go through all of it.
    You need to write them a letter regarding thier follow up process. ‘baby’ as a title is inappropriate for many reasons, including that it could lead to incorrect diagnoses if they have your date of birth wrong on file. Plus- Rude!
    Ovarian cysts suck ass, I collapsed while jogging when one burst- a rather painful way to diagnose something, but I didn’t have to wait!!
    A secret anti tumblr sounds hilarious, however if it can be google searched it’s not really secret, so I guess since you didn’t find it then it IS!
    sending you lots of love and hugs – sounds like you need them.

    I have to ask one tiny thing… How does one incorrectly take pants off? My mind is boggling!!!


    1. I took my pants off totally cos I was expecting an internal scan. So then I had to put them back on, but not all the way up.


  4. darling woman – what a shitty start to the year you’ve had. And you still make me laugh with your clever words and dark humour. As a member of the slightly-fucked-ovaries club i can completely sympathise with the dildo probes and mis-addressed letters.

    this woman business is a complete drag sometimes no?

    sending loves and hugs and badger sends a high-furry-five. get yourself some red pants – they make me feel like wonder woman.


  5. Loving the idea of some sassy red panties — you deserve ’em for all the trouble you’ve had.

    Just keep taking care of yourself and continue being awesome, and know that you’re just a blog post (or tweet) away from lots of virtual hugs!


  6. welcome to the world of PCOS?


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