Someone once had one of those horoscope books where you could look up your specific birthday and learn so many interesting facts about yourself (facts that apparently the book knows and you don't). So, we were passing this book around the room and it comes to me so I naturally look up my birthday and read that while I take care of everything else in my life way before it is necessary, I always put off going to the doctor.
Which is true.
Scary book. If we were in a movie, we would then gather around the ouija board and it would spell out i-n-f-e-r-t-i-l-i-t-y and then the planchette would spin wildly out of our hands and then come to an abrupt stop pointing at...ME ME ME.
It is true. I start planning for Halloween in June. I sent out my graduate school applications in October. I don't leave things to the last minute. Except when it comes to doctors.
I wait on all health problems just in case they mysteriously go away on their own. With the exception of infertility. For the first time in my life I was like, "get me to the doctor...NOW." Fertility seems to time sensitive. My swollen ankle, on the other hand, does not.
Last night, my ankle began swelling and taking on a purplish hue. I don't remember twisting it. I had a bug bite last week in the same area that hasn't quite gone away. And my instinct is to still sit here at the computer working while my ankle throbs. Since getting married, my husband has done his best to override my fate of being born on a day that includes doctor procrastination. He pestered me all morning to make an appointment with the general practioner. I have one for this afternoon because he always wins.
He has to work hard to get me to allow a doctor to LOOK at my ankle, yet I was eager to jump into the stirrups and allow them to slide a cathetar into my hoo-haa. Maybe because the ankle is just a physical pain and the infertility was an emotional pain. And I think we all know which one wins out if the two kinds of pain got into a superhero fist-fight.
And speaking of intense pain, I just posted Carolyn's third (yes, you SQ slackers, her THIRD) write-up for Operation Heads Up. It's for the HSG, which was, hands down, the most pain I have ever experienced in my life. I know that makes me sound like an enormous wimp, but remember that I am the woman limping around on a swollen, painful ankle who would have had no intentions of fixing it if not for her husband.
When I was in labour, the doctor asked how the pain was on a scale from one to ten. I told her that the numbers were arbitrary because she had no idea how painful my 10 was to me. She asked me what I considered a 10 and I answered, "an HSG." She then asked me how labour fell on that scale and I said...a 6. Maybe getting up to an 8. That HSG was so painful.
Just thinking about it. Ouch.