When you're right...

Went to my ultrasound.

First of all, you have to drink enough water to make you want to piss your pants before they see you. I mean, a waiting room full of folks doing the peepee dance is pretty pathetic.

I had a major beef with them, though. I drank a crapload of liquids today, teas, water, etc. Told them so when I checked in. I drank some more water, because lord knows I did NOT want to have the scan start, and then they tell me that my bladder is not painfully full enough.

I sat there for an hour and a half.

Let me repeat myself. AN HOUR AND A HALF.

With a full bladder.

When I finally went to the desk, and there were others that were waiting longer, I asked how soon I could be seen.

"Oh, is your bladder painfully full?"

"Why yes. I'm about to pee out of my eyeballs. What is taking so long?"

"Well, you have to tell us when you're ready!"

"And, who told me that was the routine?"

"Ok, we'll see you now"

Back in the waiting room, I told another woman who had been there way longer than I. "Huh, that would have been valuable information for all of us", as she did her painful peepee dance.

Indeed.

I told the tech so as I was escorted into my get naked and into the most non-sexy gown room. She apologized. I told her that folks needed to know. NOBODY knew.

She scanned what she had to with said pee. I got to relieve myself for the rest of it. And I was less tense. DUH.

So we finally started chit-chatting. Because, when I go for diagnostic tests, I know the techs shouldn't talk about what's up. But I need them to.

After quite a bit of scanning, she said it looked like polyps. Which is good news. Because something was wrong and I knew it. And I thought it was cancer.

It still could be, technically, but rare, from what she described.

Now I know why my uterus kills me. And probably why I'm constantly craving chocolate. Though, chocolate is almost always delicious, I don't often seek it out. Until the polyps started growing, I assume. Otherwise, it was always just around period time.

Now, my choco-gluttony totally makes sense.

Naturally, since it is 2 days before Christmas, I need to call my oncologist and BEG him for the actual results. How many? How big? Are they cancer? Am I going to DIE!????

Because, at the end of the day, that is where our brains go. Once you've been chillin' with the angel of death, you're pretty comfy with the constant thought that your number is up super soon.

I have also instructed hubby to call the oncologist if I can't get an immediate answer, and say that I am having a nervous breakdown and need answers now.

I told the tech I could probably scrape it out myself, considering how much I've gone through. It'd be easy.

Ok. I'm still petrified. They have to cut more out of me.

BUT I want the pain to stop. It is crippling at times. Like, tears in my eyes crippling. Like, I want to actually die during the worst of it.

So, this is why I need answers and an appointment ASAP.

I'm glad they found it. If they said it was nothing, I would have to undergo CAT scans and crap. And I would be scared that I had been imagining it or it is something so rare and deadly that they don't know what they're looking at.

So, there's that.

Off to get another piece of chocolate. Eh. At least I have an excuse for now to be a piggy.