I just set up an appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist in Louisville for two weeks from today. I am flipping out at the moment. Aside for my nearly-crippling apprehension for going to see a doctor, it’s always been a struggle for me to take responsibility of myself. I’m afraid that the doctor will say that something is seriously wrong.
But that’s it—there is something seriously wrong. I have menstruated twice in the past four years. I have a plethora of other physical problems due to this PCOS crap, and I’m tired of it. I’m afraid of how, if I’m put on them, oral contraceptives will affect my bipolar/anxiety stuff.
But I’m so tired of being afraid to even try. If I’m on the wrong meds, I’ll say so. I won’t DIE. I’ll be okay. And even though there’s no treatment for PCOS, I’ll be increasing my chances of being able to have a kid. I’m a LONG, LONG way from wanting that to happen, but I know that I want a big, happy family…and I’d like to bear my own children. If that’s not what is in the stars for me, then so be it. But I need to try to take care of myself first before I give up on my body.
I need to try something.
