gotta catch 'em all!

It occurred to me this morning that I am growing into a veritable pokemaster of physicians.


Let me show you my doctors. My doctors, let me show you them.

So of course we have a reproductive endocrinologist (RE), the spearhead of treatment for my "can't-get-knocked-up-itis".

But then! Just to be thorough I also see a regular endocrinologist. Because... of reasons. Endocrine reasons.

You'd think all that time at the RE would have that particular base covered... you know... third base? Get it? I'm talking about my vagina. But no! I also need to suffer the shame of popping into my ob-gyn's office and wading through an ass deep pool of parenting magazines and pregnant ladies to keep my various smears and such up to date in order to earn the privilege of thrice weekly trans-vaginal ultrasounds at my reproductive endocrinologist.

I also see an acupuncturist. I have nothing to say here. I love my acupuncturist. I wish I could carry her around in my pocket and take her out whenever times get tough.

Damn I'm creepy.

Ok, let us move on to the auxiliary staff. I like to refer to these particular poke-docs as the butterfly effect specialists. If a butterfly flaps it's wings on one side of the world it can cause a tsunami on the other. If a type A, neurotic, over-achieving woman can't conceive naturally it can cause her to FALL APART AT THE SEAMS. Makes perfect sense.

This shit is pretty damn stressful, and depressing as all fuck. No two ways about it, it messes with you. So I see a lady therapist who specializes in infertility, then both my husband and I see a dude therapist who also specializes in infertility for couples.

As previously noted on multiple occasions, I am insane. As such I don't manifest stress in normal ways. Instead I bottle it up until it boils to the surface in the form of stress eczema, or, as I affectionately refer to it, streggzema! BAM DERMOTOLOGIST!

I also am a bruxer. Man do I brux. I'm like, an Olympic quality grinder of teeth. In the past 3 weeks I have been to the dentist twice for horrible tooth grinding chips.  He has recommended both a custom bite guard (hooray more medical bills!) and that I consult a chiropractor (hooray, even more medical bills!).

And, finally, my insurance requires that I check in with a primary physician from time to time to manage all this insanity. I'm seeing a new one next week actually (finally moved on from Dr. "just relax/adopt and you'll get pregnant"), I don't expect that she'll know what hit her.

Alright, enough for now, I'm going to go play Mass Effect and eat pudding until either the Novocaine wears off or my next doctor's appointment (spoiler alert: it will probably be a doctor's appointment)