At least it's not about my period.

Well, it won't ALL be about my period anyway.

So you want to know how I know it's been too long since I've written?  I logged into Blogger and couldn't figure out how to publish a post.  That's probably not a good sign.

Anyway, I know.  I know it's been a month.  To be completely honest, I'm only writing because a certain friend is hounding me to do so.  She hasn't blogged in a month either, but for some reason that's totally fine for her and not me.  Feel free to click on that link and post comments about how she needs to write more. And please call her Jolene.  

You know what I've been doing instead of blogging?  Sleeping.  And popping narcotics.  And sleeping.  And I really didn't want this to become a blog about me being sick.  If I had something major, that would be one thing, but I don't.  It's just a lot of little things that when put all together turn me into a zombie.  Minus the brain eating part.  And minus the whole walking around part, too.  Zombies are always on the freaking move. I guess it just turns me into someone who sleeps a lot.

And because I know I'll get asked anyway, here are the highlights of my recent medical maladies (Feel free to skip past the bullets if you don't care.  I totally don't blame you.):

• During my week in North Carolina, my foot started to swell and hurt.  After I got home it got so bad that I ended up in the ER.  Here we are more than a month later and it's still swollen and painful.  They can't figure out why.  I took my last pain pill two days ago.  I'm afraid to go in and ask for more because I worry they'll label me as a drug seeker.  So, I've been piggy-backing Aleve and Tylenol, which makes it tolerable, but also makes me vomit.  But hey, I dropped a pant size, so hello bright side!

• A common side effect of gastric bypass surgery is low iron.  It's also a side effect of heavy periods.  I have both.  I got to a point one day that I stood at the bottom of the stairs and cried because I was too tired to climb them.  I went in for some blood work and discovered that my iron as well as my back up iron (ferratin) were pretty much non existent.  It's like a Cullen had sucked me dry, but without all the sparkles and weird pillow ripping sex.  Next week I get to go have a blood transfusion and an iron infusion to remedy the situation. And apparently the iron infusion can possibly kill me, so that's something to look forward to.

• I misplaced my left ovary for a couple of weeks.  True story.  At first I thought maybe The Bloggess had it.  I mean, she said she did.  But no.  Apparently it was there the whole time.  It was hiding behind some scar tissue.  They canceled the Amber Alert for it yesterday.

My awesome friend Bennet, who does NOT hound me to write posts, took my copy of The Bloggess' book to a book signing in Texas.  In case you can't read it, it says, "Brandi, All your left ovaries are belong to us, Jenny Lawson"

• They discovered that my ovary was allegedly missing because I was being checked for coochie cancer. FOR THE FOURTH TIME.  Four times in the past fifteen years.  Five if you count the mammogram I had to have at 25 because of a lump. (I know, technically not coochie cancer, but it involved my lady bits, so I count it.)  But four times doctors have suspected uterine and/or ovarian cancer. Luckily I've always been cancer free, but I'm terrified that my luck will run out one of these days.  So, now that I've surpassed the magic age of 35 and have officially retired my uterus, they have finally agreed to rip all the equipment out.  My innards will be a vast cave of emptiness.  

• Oh, and my diabeeetus and hypertension are back.  For a while my pancreas just totally checked out.  Apparently it was off having a fling with my left ovary.  My doctor prepared me for the reality that I would likely need an insulin pump.  But the meds she gave me to jump start it worked, and now I just have to take oral meds.  Probably forever.  The silver lining is that someday Wilford Brimley will die and someone will have to take his place in the Liberty Medical commercials.  I'm already preparing my resume.  And my handlebar mustache.

So there you have it.  My long list of woes.  

But now that I'm back, it'll be hard to get rid of me.  (Who am I kidding?  No it won't.  But let's pretend, O.K.?) 

Stay tuned for a giveaway that involves yarn vaginas, my mother exiting the birth canal, your yarn vagina pictures, and helping military families in need. 

It's like a very twisted after school special. You won't want to miss it.