Where is My Frequent Flyer Card?

Last night, as I was going to sleep, I had some pretty good cramps. I took some ibuprofen and rested. I felt okay after waking this morning, showering, and heading to school. Before 10:00 I could feel leaking. WTH? I went to the restroom to find that I had bled through a super-plus tampon, pantyliner, underwear and jeans. As any junior high girl would, I spent the rest of the day wearing a jacket tied around my waist.

By noon I had called Dr. T's office. I was still bleeding, leaking, having some cramps, borrowing pads from the nurse's office, and passing small clots here and there. Again, WTH? I was able to get an appointment right after school, so I made yet another 20 mile trek from work to the doctor's office. On Friday. In traffic. Ugh. My appointment was with Dr. R Sr. for the second time in a few weeks. (Note: Nurse Excellent knows I won't see his stoopid son ever again, so I doubt I'll ever mention Young Dr. R again.)

After peeing bleeding peeing into a cup for a sample, I naturally knew what to do - strip from the waist down and use the paper skirt to add to my overall fashion statement. After a swab, a pelvic exam (that hurt like shit), a finger stick (to learn I'm not quite anemic now), being given a crapload of samples of iron pills and orders for more vampiring, I learned this bloodbath I'm experiencing is one of two things: (1) I'm just having a terrible period. And I mean terrible. (2) I'm experiencing "complications from an early pregnancy" aka m/c. The bleeding is not the cysts rupturing. I'm just bleeding to death or something like that.

I told Dr. R that I'm not having any pg symptoms at all. With my history, I know when I'm pregnant. So, bets are that I'm having a really, really bad, nasty, horrible AF. The betas that the vampire drew today will verify that for sure, but those results won't be in until later next week.

So, after being in Dr. T's office for the FIFTH TIME in only 17 days, I asked the ladies at the front desk to punch my frequent flyer card. Everyone in that damn office knows me now, so you'd think they'd at least set up some kind of program just for me. Better yet, they could simply insert a baby in me during one of my many visits. Oh well . . .

I'm finally home, out of my nasty clothes, showered, and resting. Maybe DH will throw me a raw steak later, so I can elevate my iron levels.