Not to be trite but life has a funny way of being not so fun. Or funny.
For instance, I finally remembered to make my bi-annual doctor’s appointment. For that I was rewarded with my much anticipated Ambien prescription refill.
‘”Have you been diagnosed with insomnia?” my doctor asked.
“Yeah. By me.” What was there to diagnose? I am dreadfully tired but I can’t sleep at night. Doesn’t get more textbook than that.
(Oh and the Valerian didn’t help)
But I was sensing a troublesome vibe from my doc.
“Perhaps you should get diagnosed by a therapist?” OMG. Was she about to Ambien dump me?
“I’m not going to a therapist. They don’t usually take insurance anyway and I am definitely not paying out of pocket for one.”
I had her there and she knew it. She nodded her head resignedly.
“In fact,” I was on fire, “I wouldn’t even bother coming to see you if I knew my life didn’t depend on it so much.” Boom!
“But your happiness and well-being are important.” Oh I was hurting for her. She was getting desperate and wanted to have that final say as only doctors do. Such a lovely smart SMART doctor but I was gonna win this one.
“My mortgage is important. My happiness and well-being depends on my ability to pay for it.” Another boom!
“But no…it’s important to be happy…”
“It’s not gonna happen.”
I won. Or so I thought.
“I feel something…some lumpiness…Have you ever had a mammogram…Ultrasound…”
That was Monday.
By Tuesday afternoon I was agonizingly waiting for an FNA.
In case that’s a new term for you allow me to expound.
FNA stands for fine NEEDLE aspiration. A physician locates the suspicious lump and then inserts a needle into it, extracts some of it and then examines the specimen right before your very eyes.
Despite the needle issue, the upshot is that the results are instantaneous.
Problem was that the physician was unable to locate any lump.
Good news, you say.
Not just yet.
“Do you have time to do a mammogram now?”
Like she had to ask.
The truth was I didn’t have time. But I waited anyway. And waited. And waited.
The problem with having an unscheduled mammogram is that you don’t receive results immediately. You are relegated go waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
Yesterday – exactly one loooooooong week later – I was told the mammogram was clear.
Now I just have to follow it up with a breast ultrasound to cover all bases, in case the mammogram didn’t pick up something. Unfortunately that’s not for another month.
But at least – thanks to my newly refilled Ambien stash – I’m not awake all night stressing about.
I’m only stressing about it in every single waking moment.
I wonder if my doctor can prescribe me something for that? Hmmm…