A double-decker doctor day.

The morning began bright and early with a mid-cycle check by the cheery doctor, and then I had just enough time to savor a typically Swissly overpriced Starbucks latte (one for the price of two ... and a half!) before darting off to the gentlemanly endocrinologist for a hypothyroidism follow-up.

On both fronts, all seems well. The cd3 bloodwork looks normal, so it appears that the autoimmune factors behind the hypothyroidism have not negatively affected my ovarian function, at least not in a way detectable by the bloodwork. I am so glad and relieved to know that (putting aside a few moments of panic when I looked to see what the internet thought about my results and saw that one value was like triple of what it should ideally be before remarking that the units of measurement were different; one molecular weight calculation later, I could breathe again).

The 24-millimeter cyst that the cheery doc remarked on two weeks ago (apparently "not that big," or so goes the judgment presented on a health discussion board I found when Googling "size of a large ovarian cyst" – a judgment provided by a woman gleefully porting one the size of a "new born babys head! [sic, obviously]") seems to have disappeared. That's good.

(If you're paying enough attention to be befuddled by this sudden mention of the "not that big" cyst, it's because I didn't mention it after the last appointment. Too busy ridding myself of offending leg hair. But yeah, it was there, stealing away all the glory from the little ones pointed out, eventually, by my ex-in-all-ways-but-officially gynecologist – which are nothing to worry about, according to the slightly more trustworthy cheery doc. Yes, and according to the gyno, too, but since she knows about as much about me and my medical history as do those who blithely dispense grammatically consternating cyst size judgments on internet health discussion boards, I tend to rank her opinion with as much deference as I do theirs.)

So that was the first deck. Onto the second.

The endocrinologist wanted to meet with me before taking my blood, so we don't know yet how much my TSH might have dropped in the six weeks since he increased my dose of thyroid medication. The cd3 bloodwork showed that the level was close to but not quite at the target of 1.2, and it may have dropped even more in the two weeks since then (it takes a while for the body to respond to dose changes). The results from today should be available tomorrow, and he'll adjust my dose again if necessary. But if it's not, then I'm "all ready for the big event," as he put it, and the next time I see him will be when I am ... pregnant. Please, please, please let that be soon.

And that's that for now. I just regret that today was too warm for the wearing of an outer layer. I'd been looking forward to a little more coat-holding doctorly attention than is strictly medically necessary.

borrowed ethically from source