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This is an awesome song by Pink Martini. Kind of weird that they chose this song for the title of their last CD; it’s so different from anything else on the album. But it IS a totally cool song. Seeing this video just makes me really want to see them live, too.

I heard from my OB-GYN today. My biopsy results were normal. I am torn between relief and anger. Relief, obviously, that there’s nothing wrong. Anger that I had to go through what I went through to find that out. Slightly ashamed of myself for being such a wimp, but on the other hand, fuck that.

Anyway, yeah. Good news and all that.

So as of last week (I forgot to weigh myself this morning), I’ve lost 16 pounds on Weight Watchers. It doesn’t sound like much, but it has resulted in my favorite jeans being too loose – WAY too loose. Falling-down loose. Need to wear a belt loose (I hate belts). I hit up my “archives” tonight (the closet in my office, where I keep old pairs of my favorite jeans that don’t fit me anymore). I was able to pull out three pairs that were too small for me as of last winter, and add them back into my rotation. Here’s the weird thing – they all happened to be crop length (capris, bitch pants, whatever you want to call them). Good thing it’s summer time.

Here’s a hot song to go with my not-quite-hot-yet-but-working-on-it-real-hard bod (No Doubt: Bathwater):

Did you see this story on 60 Minutes about Denmark? Apparently the people there are the happiest in the world – that is, the most satisfied with their lives. The most content. It seems some of this stems from not having unrealistically high expectations, maybe even being kind of stoic and glum and then when good things happen, really appreciating them. It was an interesting story.

I heard this song by the Chemical Brothers on the way home tonight, and it reminded me of the story. The song’s pretty happy too, in its own way:

Where do I start? I had a very, very ouchie day. (Warning: this post contains icky female stuff.)

A few weeks ago I had a routine pap test. Last week, the nurse from my gynecologist’s office called to tell me that I had a somewhat abnormal result. I’ve been through the scare of “squamous cells of unknown significance” before, but this was different. She said there were endometrial cells in my result, which shouldn’t be there based on where I was in my cycle.

OK, one problem with that. My cycle has been insane for the past year. In fact, I recently went back on birth control pills in an effort to help settle things down. At 40, I’m too young for menopause (believe me, I’ve asked repeatedly). My average cycle post-baby was a bit on the short side, about 25 days, but in the past six months I had endured the following: 24, 19, 21, 13, 27, 31. Yeah, that’s right: I had one menstrual cycle that lasted 13 days. If you do the math on that one you figure out that if I actually had my period for 5-6 days, that means I only got a break of about a week before it all started again. So yeah, you could say my cycle had issues.

Whatever. Doctor wanted to schedule me for an endometrial biopsy, so I scheduled it. Internet research told me this was to rule out possible problems ranging from a hormone imbalance (gee, ya think?) to endometriosis to – gulp! – the big C word. No, not c**t; cancer. Of the c**t. Heh. The way the procedure was described to me it didn’t sound that bad – would only take a few seconds, was probably going to be more comfortable than the colposcopies and cervical biopsies and endocervical curettage I’ve had in the past.

So today I had the endometrial biopsy. And hoo boy – “not bad” is not how I would describe it. Wikipedia’s article on this procedure notes, “Cramping may occur.” Kids, that’s what we refer to as an understatement. Cramping occurs, and occurs BIG TIME. From the time the cervix is “steadied” until about 12 hours after the procedure, MAJOR cramping occurs. There’s no way for me to accurately describe how painful this little test was. I never went into real labor when I was pregnant, since I had the Bean via C-section, but the doctor told me that many women compare it to labor. I sure have new respect for women who’ve given birth without drugs! Let’s just say it felt like someone was reaching in, grabbing my uterus with a rusty pair of pliers, and trying to drag it kicking and screaming out of my body. And that’s after I took ibuprofen in advance, and the doctor used some lidocaine. I bled a lot, enough to surprise my doctor. When I sat up afterwards, I almost passed out. WebMD says that’s a “vasovagal reaction.”

After getting dressed, I went out to my car and cried. Surprisingly I did not cry in the examination room. I screamed bloody murder and was terribly embarrassed afterwards, but somehow didn’t cry until I got to my car. Then instead of going back to the office I came home, made popcorn, drank a big glass of iced tea, and went to sleep.

So I’ll get the results back pretty soon, I hope. If they’re at all questionable, the next step may be an ultrasound, or a D&C. The D&C doesn’t really scare me since it’s done under general anesthesia, which sounds like a walk in the park compared to today.

I better go to bed early tonight. I’m exhausted physically and emotionally. The fact that the latest version of WordPress is doing annoying things like ignoring my image settings is just about driving me over the edge right now. I don’t think I’m in any shape to really use the Internet responsibly.