Doctor’s best friend

My health has been in the pits recently.

I’ve been plagued by recurrent gastritis for a while now and my GP has suggested that I get an endoscopy done to determine the causes. It’s inevitable, I suppose, and I did tell the doctor to book me the earliest appointment to see the specialist. But the thought of having yet another procedure done, especially when it’s coming on the back of the IVF, is making me feel, well, depressed.

That means, in the past 10 months, I have had seven IUIs, one IVF and one laparoscopy done. With all the bills that I have been paying, I’m the medical industry’s best friend, I reckon.

And I’m so sick of all these tests, of having things poke around my insides, of having to wait in the clinic on a knife’s edge. It’s a good thing I am not a corporate rat – my career would have gone down in flames a long time ago, what with all the time I took away from the job.

Then there’s the uncertainty and worrying. What exactly is going on in there? Why are my parts going all wonky on me now?

How does it feel to be in a normal, healthy body?