Jeezum crow

It's been a while. Oops.

Danny is doing very well - no sign of freaky BP drama. His knee is still bothering him and we're in a bit of a battle with the hospital over who should pay for it. The good thing to come out of all that was that we're talking & thinking about our health more than we ever have. And, oh, what fun we have with that.

I had my follow-up appointment with the new doc today. We went over the results of my recent blood work & ultrasound. She told me to keep the WW going and we'd talk again in a few months. Geez. No congrats on quitting smoking, even! Huh?

It's no shocker I need to lose weight. So, finally, I decided to get a gym membership. One of the benefits of marriage is a cheap joint account at our local gym, where Danny's been a member for years. Tomorrow will be my first visit. That sounds great, no question here about the fact that exercising and eating better are better for me and my potential offspring. The best part - Danny's footing the bill. What a guy. I'm sure that means I'll have to play racquetball partner at some point...

Still no warmth from that doctor, though. During both visits I've had some pretty emotional moments - no response. When I leave I just feel discouraged. Blech. I know she's smart and experienced and has had great information and blah blah blah, but I really want to feel a connection. Is that so much to ask? Maybe it is when it comes to doctors. We've had such shit luck with other doctors lately that I feel like I should stick with her even though I'm not getting what I want out of it. Any advice out there? I also feel like jumping ship and finding another doctor. Or just saying screw it and going with a preferred provider to save some money. A significant chunk of money.

Another thing on this clinic... when I talked to the nurse last week, she said I'd most likely be prescribed Metformin based on my results. Nope. She also said I'd need the endometrial biopsy, which I prepared for today. Nope. The doc basically said 'Maybe someday...' on both of those. The doc also brought up Clomid at one point, but then changed the subject. When I asked about it, she said she's sure I need it, but doesn't want to give it to me now. I know, I know, I know, I know I know, because my bod's not ready. Man, don't fatties reproduce? Umm, yes, otherwise our population would be dwindling. Enough about that. It makes me kinda mad and sad.

Oh wait, there's more. When I got home from the doc's I turned on the TV just long enough to see a talk show all about dead beat dads and baby mama drama and meth moms... what the hell? Alright, I'm done being pathetic for now.