Now the rest.
So my fun new thing was chronic pain. Last couple months. I had been doing the "if I don't talk about it, maybe it'll go away" thing, but it got so bad that it just kinda slipped out of my mouth on the airplane on Tuesday, and Adam made me promise to go to the doctor. So I did.
So we talked to the doctor, and we determined that it probably wasn't anything autoimmune (which was my abiding terror), because there is no swelling. And there was lots of poking at me.
Side note: I'm glad that my doctor understands that I am in pain even when I'm not bawling, that even in moderate to severe pain I just say calmly "Yes, that hurts."
So there was poking. And there was a lot of "Yes, that hurts," and "That *really* hurts."
And she said "Okay. I hate to give a diagnosis of fibromyalgia..."
*insert panicky shadesong here*
"...because it can be so indeterminate... but the points I pressed are signifiers for fibromyalgia. I'm not issuing a diagnosis here yet. But what I would prescribe for fibromyalgia is sleep, massage, exercise, and generally antidepressants. So what I'm prescribing for you is sleep, massage, and exercise."
Blood was taken, five vials, just to make sure about the autoimmune thing, and I guess if there's anything in my blood that could prove or disprove fibromyalgia.
I have Starbucks, McDonald's, and a bottle of Ambien for if the pain keeps me awake again. And we've called manifestress to schedule a massage appointment.
I do not have fibromyalgia. I do not have fibromyalgia. I disbelieve.
In the meantime: I gained two pounds! And now I'm going to see if french fries can help me put on some more.