So I went to have an ultrasound in hopes of avoiding an endometrial biopsy. You know, that procedure where they grab onto your cervix with the needle nose pliars and go in and grab off some tissue from inside your uterus? That procedure that they say can be done in the office sans anesthesia or medication because it only causes “some discomfort”, meaning that only 20 or 30 percent of women who undergo it pass out or puke?
So anyhow, it seems my uterus has like way too much wallpaper (Endometrium) for my 12 year postmenopausal condition. Oh Pohjonen, didn’t you know? You didn’t have children, you had PCOS, you have too much fat, and you QUIT SMOKING so now you have six thousand times the risk of uterine cancer! That’s what happens when you let PCOS go untreated!
So. We won’t discuss the 88 doctors I saw over 30 years trying to get some treatment for my PCOS. The one who was “underwhelmed” by my multitude of distressing symptoms when I was 25. The one that told me to come back when I wanted to have a baby. And especially the ones who knew less about PCOS than I did after spending a weekend on the internet. Oh and the one who didn’t suggest a hysterectomy when I was 47, insured, and suffering from endometriosis, pelvic pain and polyps. Oh be patient - you’ll be better when you go through menopause in a couple of years! Yeah, right.
So now here I am - uninsured, unemployed, bleeding, and three years away from Medicare when I can just have the damn thing removed.
And no - I can’t get Medicaid - even if I have cancer.
Screw it all anyway. I just love doctors.