Biopsy

Lady Bits Warning!
















So, normally with a diagnosis like LS, the person has a biopsy to confirm diagnosis.

I have managed to avoid this thing (which involves punching out a bit of your bits with a hole punch, apparently) for nearly three years.

But I'm trying to go see a specialist in March in Ann Arbor, and the insurance company are being jerks and are refusing to pay for this jaunt 8 hours away (for all the fun and joy it's going to bring me having someone ELSE look at my poor, bedraggled bits and diagnose me with 6 more things I can't pronounce.)

But my doctor has a plan, and it involves me donating a chunk of my privates for medical testing.

And that's Tuesday.

I'm not panicking (much.) I've already finished off the laundry, planned out when I'm taking out the garbage tomorrow, planned out my clothes for Tuesday and Wednesday, planned out what I need to do for tomorrow to be ready for the day after, made rolls (food in case I can only walk ten feet to the fridge), and the apartment is clean from last week, so yay on that. I feel less freaked out about having my body abused like this if I know I'm walking into the office ready for catastrophe.

Hopefully all goes well and I can go to work on Wednesday without too much pain going on. Let's hope. I already told my boss I might not be able to make it in (in case I need stitches or something and I'm told not to move for a day or whatever.) Again, I'd rather be overprepared than underprepared. I like to have plans on top of plans on top of plans, just in case.

Gotta love medical testing. Wish they could find a less invasive way to take my skin off.

I will write more Tuesday if I'm feeling up to it. I have no idea how I'll feel afterwards.

Ta,
Bec