So after a long absence, or rather, after years of not visiting my gynecologist, I finally put my big panties on and adulted. I am now taking an executive check up, so this morning I told her my medical history since 2017-ish (Covid delta when I bled too much during my prolonged menstrual period and my psychiatric therapy). Had my pelvic sonogram and pap smear taken, scheduling my sonomammogram and mammogram mid-March, and will have all my blood work and ECG done tomorrow.

Pelvic exam normal and nothing alarming so far, thank goodness.

After my tests are in, I would get referred to an IM specialist, depending on what results are out of whack. As I told her, based on the tests my psychiatrist asked me to have in 2021, my triglycerides, LDL and uric acid are through the roof and my only saving grace is that my fasting blood sugar is normal. My blood pressure is always normal, unlike the rest of my family that is suffering from hypertension and diabetes now.

Then I had referrals to a GI specialist (for my suspected pancreatitis) and a dermatologist/plastic surgery specialist to remove my osteoma. I need to schedule everything next week before I fly to Singapore in early March.

I must drive here mid-week for these—especially my visit to the GI specialist—because I can’t have another attack like that while abroad. If my pancreas is inflamed and I get sick in Singapore, that would be a very expensive trip.

I remember when I had a similar attack like that (because my gall bladder was already getting blocked by stones), I was immobile for two days before I finally brought myself to the surgeon. I didn’t bother with getting a GI opinion; I knew it was my gall bladder because I had an attack before and sonogram showed gall stones. It was so bad that the surgeon operated on me three days after as an emergency case (like they needed to clear the OR for me) because if I didn’t have it done ASAP, my gall bladder would have burst and I could have died.

True enough, the surgeon showed me the photo of my gall bladder, which looked like a dried up pitcher plant on the white operating table. Indeed, it was like a sack full of stones and one big stone was already blocking the opening towards the pancreas. No wonder I was so sick. But then, my surgeon had a macabre sense of humor… I DON’T KNOW if it was standard practice or not but he kept my stones in a glass bottle and gave it to me as a souvenir. 🫠

So this time, I don’t want to take chances. I must catch an illness before it becomes so advanced that it is already too late… Be it pseudocyst in the pancreas, cysts in the breast, or myoma—I need to catch it early.

So now my fasting starts.