Yep. That's me.
I had my HSG performed on Monday, and today is Thursday. I should get the results today. So far, no call, and I waited long enough that the office is closed for lunch at the moment. I won't pretend I'm strong enough to hold out much longer. I'll be calling around 1:30 to see if they have any news.
In the meantime, I've given into the divisive little monster that lives inside of me whispering, "Hey, why don't you do a search on Google, or WebMD, just to see what the worst case scenario is... you know, to be prepared."
Prepared, my ass. Petrified would be the correct term.
We'll refer to this monster as the Infoholic Witch. She pops up quite frequently in my life. Though, I must admit, I make it easy for her. A chick like me with a medical resume as long as your arm is an ideal habitat for the Infoholic Witch. She loves terms like "rare disorder", "Minocycline-Induced Lupus", "statistical improbability", and "unexplained, sudden-onset hypertension". I am a veritable feeding-ground of worry and ripe soil for any manner of clinical disorder.
But the most attractive aspect of this habitat for the Infoholic Witch is my passing acquaintance with biology, genetics, and science in general. My father was a biologist, and I planned on following that line until I woke up my sophomore year in college and realized that English was much better suited to both me and my GPA. I grew up receiving the real answer to such questions as, "Why is the grass green?" or "Why do magnets stick?" None of that "'Cause God made it that way" stuff for this young girl.
As a consequence, I have an uncanny ability to understand and reiterate other people’s scientific knowledge. Just enough to delve into the underbelly of it all without a tour guide. The result is pathetic. It usually involves self-induced panics and gloss-eyed stupors as my hand scrawls down note after note about certain clinical terms and hair-brained theories on how certain conditions may be linked.
I must be a doctor's nightmare. But the Infoholic Witch, she's in heaven.
So after giving into her this morning, my Google search produced a lovely array of titles full of lovely words: Hysterectomy; Infertility; Lesions; Dissection; and yes, Hysterectomy a few gagillion more times - just to drive the point home.
Did I mention Hysterectomy?
So, I've fed the Infoholic Witch a turkey sandwich for lunch in hopes that that will stave her off until I make the phone call. I know it's not nearly as satisfying a meal as paranoia with a side of hysteria, but I pray it will do.
