I went op-shopping the other day and bought some maternity pants. My belly is HUGE, is now about 110cm around, bigger than my bust measurement - and bigger than my hips. So uncomfortable, too. Which is why I bought the pudding pants. My back aches, and my muscles are protesting at being stretched, and my entire gut is carrying on at being squashed and pushed aside like it doesn't matter.
According to the radiographer the cyst is pushing right against my aorta and lungs so I run out of breath really quickly. And feel quite sick if I have to pick anything up from the floor. So I just leave it all there till I have a collection of stuff and then crawl around picking it all up in one sicky go. The house looks like crap.
Last week I was in the queue at the library (before I bought the jeans with the jersey panel across the front, too), rubbing my belly high up under my right ribs cos it HURTS. And a woman beside me said "Aw, a little foot in your kidney, eh?". She was probably thinking "Poor (silly) woman, no wonder she looks hagard, having a baby at her age" not realising that I am actually hagard cos I really am OLD...
I told her I was happier with a cyst than if I was pregnant. Another baby, bloody hell, it is all I can do to convince myself that it would be a lovely idea to have another puppy...
This afternoon I am off to see a surgeon at St Vincent's Hospital in Melbourne. Armed with copies of all the history, referral, DVDs of various scans in case they have mislaid anything.
My GP has been sending me encouraging texts - she is a honey. She said to tell them I am OK with them getting out a needle and stabbing me between the ribs RIGHT NOW.
It would be so very good to walk out of there with size 12 jeans on again.
US size 8, btw.
However I am not taking them with me cos I reckon they almost certainly will not do anything today. Today is just to see if we like each other. No, it isn't - it is for the surgeon to determine how URGENT it all is. It is bloody truly really urgent - on this weekend I am MCing at Maldon Folk Festival, and I need to look gorgeous for being on stage, not having to explain to people I have known since my boys were little blokes that "No, I am not pregnant, it is a cyst" over and over...
SO - just in case they do decide they will aspirate the cyst today I am fasting. Would kill for a cuppa tea... Better get up and have a shower and see what I can do with my hair cos I am an idiot.
I decided to "add some hightlights" the other day with a blonding creme. Never having done it before. Mostly I just add some auburn/goldy colour to make what my (original) colour was shine and glimmer.
Now I have odd coloured orange-ish hair. I look like Pauline Hanson on a good day. Never mind, I can always add that glimmer another day. I will let my hair get over the shock of this, and pretend I meant to do it.