Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Biopsy Results and another PSA

And the biopsy results are…

Negative. Sort of. The three moles removed are all dysplastic nevi, which are essentially pre-cancerous moles. They fit all of the ABC’s (asymmetrical, irregular border, more than one color) for abnormality. They are also the type most likely to change into melanoma and, given that I’ve been down that path before, are pretty much guaranteed to do so for me. The follow up? Well, before I had a confirmed melanoma, the follow up was absolutely nothing. Now that I have a “history” (makes me sound shady, huh?) the follow-up is to re-excise the area to take just a bit more tissue and be sure that they have every last one of the kooky cells. I am scheduled to go in next Tuesday for the extra cutting. Oh, just a word of advice to anyone who will have a procedure done using local without epinephrine- you will bleed. A. Lot. Just a warning.

I expect that they will find either clear borders or the presence of a few more atypical cells, nothing cancerous. But I’ll go ahead do a prayer request just in case.

And your friendly, neighborhood, Public Service Announcement…

May is National Melanoma/Skin Cancer Prevention and Detection Month. Check your moles regularly. Perhaps even go to a skin cancer screening in your area. Wear sunscreen daily. Wear a hat. And for gawd’s sake- if any of your moles changes, even slightly- go to the doctor immediately! It can literally save your life. If the melanoma is less than one millimeter in thickness, the survival rate is nearly 100%. If it reaches four millimeters, the survival rate drops to 50%. 50%!!! This is serious, people. Melanoma is one bad-ass form of cancer, and because it starts on the surface in almost every case, you have a really good chance of spotting it early if you just know your skin very well. Or have someone else know it- might as well have fun while being healthy!

But seriously- I’m not messin’ with ya. Get checked.

Friday, April 22, 2005

Take that, Dr. Ass

Pregnancy Update:

baby's heartrate = 149bpm
baby's position = undetermined (but not head down)
my blood pressure = 120/70

and the coup de weight was down a pound

I was bracing myself for another visit with Dr. Ass this morning, knowing that my weight would be up at least a pound or two. When I glanced at the scale and thought that I saw a smaller number, I wanted to see his reaction, given the tongue lashing I got last time for excessive gain.

He said nothing about the weight, so I brought it up.

Me: So, how was my weight this time?

Dr.A: It's down one pound

Me: Really? Well, I have to be perfectly honest- I didn't change anything at all in my habits. In fact, last time I was more shocked to see that it was up so many pounds.

Dr.A: Well, I guess you're having fluctuations in your fluid then. Ok.

Me (inside my head): Grrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuugh!

Next visit in one week.

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

The Shower of Style

**Warning: pregnancy and baby-related post**

This past Sunday was my baby shower, thrown by my mom. It still seems like a surreal thing to be pregnant, let alone to be the center of attention at a party where people give you gifts for the being that you are still convinced must be a dream. But I digress into my own neuroses…

The group at the shower was mostly family, with a few friends thrown into the mix. I was glad to see each and every one of them, knowing that they would be a wonderful support for me once the baby arrives. Some of them had not seen me since before the pregnancy, and were absolutely beaming at seeing me that day. Of course, the majority of them had no idea what we had been through to conceive this kid, so they simply assumed that we had waited the respectable three years into our marriage to go ahead and get pregnant. Little did they know.

I do have to say that this kid is going to be absolutely stylin’. I got a ton of baby clothes, thankfully in a variety of sizes. All of them were adorable, and I could not get over all of the matching accessories. Socks, hats, blankets…all of them matching a particular outfit. For now. I bet that about a month into motherhood the kid will be wearing whatever socks happen to be clean, with whatever outfit has not been puked on yet that day, and if everything matches, I’ll win the grand prize. Hell, I have a hard enough time dressing myself for work, and I’m supposed to have a kid that matches?

I got a bunch of gear, too, although I will need to make a trip this weekend to the store to get the last of the newborn essentials. Oh, yeah, and I should probably finish that nursery furniture so that I have somewhere to actually put everything. Yeah, that. Hmmmm.

And I am still entirely picture illiterate. Those of you who tried to link to the highchair that I so cleverly could not link to a few posts back…you know that I’m a computer fool. So, I can’t share with you the many piles of loot. Sorry. I will try to get it in gear after the grand entrance of the kid, but I make no promises.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

Dr. Numb-Numb = Dr. Ass

**Warning: Pregnancy-related post**

I had a visit with my OB this morning. The baby is doing great. Good strong heartbeat at 144bpm. Love it.

However, as you might have guessed from the title, I am none too pleased with the doctor. If you recall, Dr. Numb-Numb is my regular doctor who had, prior to the pregnancy, been helpful, informative, and, I thought, understanding. Wrong. As soon as I returned to his practice at 8 weeks along, I was assaulted with his dogma on weight gain in pregnancy. He proclaimed adamantly that I was to only gain 16 pounds, 20 at most. At that point, I had gained nothing at all, so I wasn't really phased by his comment.

A few visits later, I saw him again (I had seen another doctor in the interim as is common once you're an OB patient), and he chastised me for gaining six pounds in a month. "Two pounds only!" he ranted.

I managed to skip seeing him for a while in the rotation and in the meantime my weight was all over the place. Lost a pound one month, gained three the next, and so forth. Well, this month (of course) I somehow gained eight pounds and of course it was Dr. Numb-Numb on the schedule. Great. I actually went in thinking that I had not gained at all or was perhaps up only the two pounds allowed as I am feeling great. My clothes fit fine, I am not uncomfortable, etc. All of those things that I normally use to gauge weight gain.

He was not pleased at all with the weight, as you probably guessed. He asked about my sugar test- it was fine. Did I have a family history of sugar? Unknown because I'm adopted. Perhaps I'm eating too much salt and retaining water? No, I really don't like salt.

His suggestion to control the weight gain? "Maybe you should skip a meal each day." Excuse me? Skip. A. Meal? Did you notice that I am GESTATING here? That's not even a healthy thing for someone who is not pregnant.

All hail, the arrival of Dr. Ass.