a woman's just too tired to think
Thursday, 18 March 2010 12:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I have a lovely doctor. I wandered into her office yesterday for various routine checkup thingies, and mentioned the insomnia, whereupon she prescribed an extremely mild anti-depressant that caused me to sleep until 9.30 this morning, and to entirely omit my currently standard 2am bout of sleepwalking. Then I mentioned I was all tired and glandular and sinusy again, and she looked at me narrowly and put me off work for the rest of the week, muttering to herself about taking time off after deaths in the family. Then she did this entirely cool thing with a syringe, which I'm going to hide under a cut in case it squicks anyone on the grounds of either needles or TMI in the Girl Troubles department.
I have a tendency to breast lumps, which come and go randomly at intervals, and have done since I was a teenager. (Doctor: "Hmmm, the mammogram report says you have dense breast tissue architecture. You'll always have perky breasts." Me (slightly sarcastically): "Yay!"). The latest lump, however, was particularly large, over 5cm across at its widest point, and isn't a fibroadenoma (i.e. the usual benign fibrous lump) - it's a cyst. Cysts are also benign but are filled with fluid, which is apparently secreted by the cyst cells. In order to reduce the discomfort of a cyst (they can be tender), you apparently stick a needle straight into it and draw off the fluid inside. This my nice doctor cheerfully did, to my complete fascination: you'd think it would hurt like hell to have needles stuck into tender portions of your anatomy, but at the time I could barely feel it, and today it's just a bit bruised. She pulled out 20cc of straw-coloured liquid and took my one breast down approximately a cup size. As a one-minute procedure in symptom relief it's both bizarre and efficient.
So, I'm at home today and tomorrow, drifting gently around the house in a vague sort of way and occasionally thinking "Gosh, actually I really needed this break." As a bonus, our ace carpenter man has just finished putting a desk and shelves into my study, which is now an extremely wonderful space filled with space and shelving and cunning boxes for keeping computers in. I'm very happy. Observe the acres of desk.

Hobbit also apparently approves of the bookshelves.

I shall spend the long weekend reshelving books, although this has to wait until the Evil Landlord has lugged the boxes around for me, since the other thing the Nice Doctor checked was my weird wrist, which hurts when I lift heavy things. (Doctor: "Well, don't lift heavy things, then!" [exasperated look]. Me [vaguely]: "Gosh, yes, I suppose that makes sense.")
I have a tendency to breast lumps, which come and go randomly at intervals, and have done since I was a teenager. (Doctor: "Hmmm, the mammogram report says you have dense breast tissue architecture. You'll always have perky breasts." Me (slightly sarcastically): "Yay!"). The latest lump, however, was particularly large, over 5cm across at its widest point, and isn't a fibroadenoma (i.e. the usual benign fibrous lump) - it's a cyst. Cysts are also benign but are filled with fluid, which is apparently secreted by the cyst cells. In order to reduce the discomfort of a cyst (they can be tender), you apparently stick a needle straight into it and draw off the fluid inside. This my nice doctor cheerfully did, to my complete fascination: you'd think it would hurt like hell to have needles stuck into tender portions of your anatomy, but at the time I could barely feel it, and today it's just a bit bruised. She pulled out 20cc of straw-coloured liquid and took my one breast down approximately a cup size. As a one-minute procedure in symptom relief it's both bizarre and efficient.
So, I'm at home today and tomorrow, drifting gently around the house in a vague sort of way and occasionally thinking "Gosh, actually I really needed this break." As a bonus, our ace carpenter man has just finished putting a desk and shelves into my study, which is now an extremely wonderful space filled with space and shelving and cunning boxes for keeping computers in. I'm very happy. Observe the acres of desk.

Hobbit also apparently approves of the bookshelves.

I shall spend the long weekend reshelving books, although this has to wait until the Evil Landlord has lugged the boxes around for me, since the other thing the Nice Doctor checked was my weird wrist, which hurts when I lift heavy things. (Doctor: "Well, don't lift heavy things, then!" [exasperated look]. Me [vaguely]: "Gosh, yes, I suppose that makes sense.")