Warning: this blog post describes lady plumbing issues.
The doctor rang yesterday afternoon with the test results from my wee sample.
There was no infection remaining, just a bit of blood. There has been a bit of blood in my urine samples for about three years now, but I have been studiously ignoring it because I am a busy single mum/eejit.
I was very surprised by the news – I was sure I still had a UTI. So now I have no freaking idea why I feel sub-par and need to duck to the bathroom every 20 minutes.
There has been some general speculation – mainly by myself and my sister – that Freddy the Fibriod could be to blame.
Freddy got his name from my gynaecologist because he used to be the size of a three-month old foetus. I was supposed to have a hysterectomy to remove him, but I couldn’t face the caesarean-style surgery.
Instead I had a couple of painful procedures called an ablation and an embolisation that made him more manageable.
Freddy gets a big mention in my referral to the urologist. It describes my uterus as “bulky with an eggshell calcification measuring up to 7.6cm most likely degenerated fibroid”.
I also have a “probable” small hiatus hernia and a few parpelvic cysts. Also possibly an ovarian one with “no perinephric lymphadenopathy or fat strands”.
I’m presuming that is gross but good news. As is the fact tests show there are no adrenal nodules, no abnormality in my small or large bowel loops and, as an added bonus, my lung bases are clear.
Well, they were a year ago. I’ve dragged my feet a bit on getting things sorted out.
Now, suddenly, I am panicking about having to wait until June 16 to find out why there’s been blood in my urine for three years. Ironic.
OK, gotta go, I’ve agreed to actually front up to the office today. Quelle horreur!
Wish me luck crossing my legs on the bus during the commute.
And have a great, gross blog post-free weekend.