Automated Attack Monkeys, Scalpel Mines, & Acid

... which details my official diagnosis of "Non Specific Lower Abdominal Pain".

I have been blood tested, urine tested, x-rayed, ultrasound scanned, and had my abdomen prodded by five different doctors and three radiologists.

The ovary I had taken out has not magically regrown, and nor are there any bits of it remaining. There are no swabs or rolexes. I don't have any abnormal growths. My kidneys, pancreas, spleen, liver, bladder, and various other organs have all been examined and none of them found wanting. My contraceptive coil hasn't pierced my uterus. I don't appear to have diverticulitis. The only other tests they can now do involve barium meals (which might be an option if they thought it was diverticulitis, but as they don't it seems a bit pointless) or exploratory surgery.

The most likely explanation is surgical adhesion from when I had my ovary out. If it IS that then exploratory surgery would probably find it but they might not be able to do anything about it, and given that I am not actually screaming in agony at all times it's probably not worth it right now.

So I have to talk to my GP about pain management, pay attention to my stools (YAY! Funtimes!) and take lots of painkillers. Potentially forever. And go back if the pain gets markedly worse or I start having constipation, diahorrhea or vomiting and they'll do the exploratory surgery.

On the plus side I also now have written proof that I have not got dementia and my cognitive abilities are not suspicious. Yay. Witness my face of utter joy.

On Friday I started having a pain where my ovary used to be. On Saturday my boss made me promise that if it was still hurting on Monday I would go see the doctor. Yesterday I went to see the doctor. He asked me lots of questions and poked and prodded at me and did a urine test and gave me some pills (probably made of suckrose and ackwah) and told me if it still hurt in 48 hours to come back.

This morning he rang me up and said he'd been thinking and wanted me to come back in. So I went back in and he poked and prodded again and asked exactly the same questions he asked yesterday and then said he wasn't sure what it was, and he'd swear it was ovarian but there's no ovary there, and it might be this really rare type of hernia, and I'd better go to the hospital for more tests.

So I went to the hospital. And after the nurse did paperwork and blood pressure a doctor came (she was quite fanciable, and commented favourably on my shoes) and did EXACTLY the same poking and prodding and questions as my doctor had done, took some blood, and then sent me for an x-ray. The x ray ladies liked my shoes too. I was wearing my Vibram Fivefingers.

After the x ray I sat in the waiting room for three hours watching challenge TV.

Eventually the cute doctor came back, bringing a registrar with her, and he poked and prodded and asked exactly the same questions as the cute doctor and my own doctor had both already asked me. Then he said that he couldn't feel a hernia, and that it seemed like something ovarian to him. At which point I pointed out that both ovary and fallopian tube had been removed from that side, so it couldn't be.

So, given the tests I have already had: there's nothing shown up in a urine test, nothing in the blood tests, and nothing on the x rays. Which means cancer is unlikely because they look for cancer markers in the blood, the surgeon who took my ovary out didn't leave her rolex in there because that would have shown up on the x ray, and I haven't got a bladder infection. So what do you reckon I have got, dear reader?

If you've been wondering where I am of late I am sorry. I have been having a really bad phase of depression and generally Not Coping. I'm not saying this to garner sympathy - for one thing, sympathy tends to induce guilt - but just to let you know. I'm just about coping with work, and am dipping in and out of twitter, but don't have the spoons for anything else - such as blogging - at the moment.

I am lucky in that I have great, understanding, friends, who will visit when I need company and bugger off when I need to be alone.

( tl;dr: the details of my Not Copingness )

So yeah... not entirely sure how to end this. So I'll just end it.