Rambling

Lately, it seems I have much more interaction with the medical establishment than I am comfortable with. As you may have surmised by my last few posts, I survived having my wisdom teeth out. It wasn't nearly as bad as I imagined, although I'm worried that I told the doctor how cute he was while I was under the influence. I don't remember much except for a pre-op conversation with the nurse about whether a butt tattoo hurts more than a foot tattoo, and a post-op argument because I didn't want to ride in the wheelchair (I get argumentative when I'm sedated).

Also, after the baby died, I got a new doctor who ordered all kinds of tests to try and find out what happened. We still don't have a reason for what happened, but I guess it's nice to have absolute certainty about my own health. I have recently received confirmation that I do not have diabetes, AIDS, lupus, random immunological disorders, uterine or cervical cancer, or a thyroid disorder. I also received the somewhat obvious news that I have 46 chromosomes and that I am female. They took a vial of blood to tell me that.

I think I am starting to accept what happened. The test results are helping me to realize that it probably wasn't my fault, and that I couldn't have done anything to prevent it. I find that I can now talk to B about when we have children, rather than if. As cliched as this is, I think I am a stronger person for surviving this. But I am also weaker, because now I really know, deep in my bones, that I am not safe, and that terrible things can happen to me and to people I love.