Hey… it’s Anna🖤.
And I finally have an update.
First of all, let me just say this.
A pelvic MRI is not for the weak.
I don’t care what anybody says.
If you’re claustrophobic, you’re probably going to have a rough time.
Now technically, I’m not claustrophobic.
At least I didn’t think I was.
But after spending what felt like forever shoved inside a giant noisy tube with barely enough room between my face and the machine, I started questioning everything.
Including my life choices.
Nobody Warned Me About The Noise
I knew there would be a machine.
I knew I had to lie still.
I knew it would take a while.
What nobody properly prepared me for was the noise.
The machine sounds like a construction site and a malfunctioning robot had a baby.
And that baby is angry.
They do give you ear plugs.
Which is nice.
Very thoughtful.
Unfortunately, the ear plugs don’t completely block out the noise.
They just make it slightly less terrifying.
So there I was.
Lying completely still.
Listening to what sounded like a jackhammer performing a drum solo.
Then There’s The Being Trapped Part
Again.
Not claustrophobic.
Supposedly.
But you’re basically lying inside a chamber.
The machine is inches from your face.
You can’t really move.
You’re by yourself.
And the only thing standing between you and a full-blown panic attack is a little rubber ball they give you to squeeze if you need help.
The entire time I was thinking:
“Don’t panic.”
Which of course immediately makes you want to panic.
The Good News
I survived.
Barely.
But I survived.
The MRI is done.
And now we move on to the next step.
My pre-op appointment is scheduled for June 18th.
Which means hopefully we’re getting closer to a solution.
Because honestly?
I’m tired.
Not just physically.
Mentally too.
Of Course I Read The Results Immediately
Now if you’ve been following me for any length of time, you already know what happened next.
The results got posted online.
And before my doctor could even blink, I was reading them.
Naturally.
Because patience has never really been my thing.
And yes.
I absolutely used ChatGPT to help me understand the report because those medical reports might as well be written in another language.
The Uterus Situation Is Worse Than I Thought
Turns out my uterus is approximately 21 centimeters.
Twenty-one.
For reference, that’s roughly the size of a uterus at around six months of pregnancy.
Which immediately explained something that’s been bothering me for a while.
The belly.
You know the one.
The one that makes me look suspiciously pregnant despite not actually being pregnant.
Turns out there was a reason for that.
And honestly?
I feel slightly validated.
Because I knew something wasn’t normal.
Seventeen Fibroids
Not five.
Not ten.
Seventeen.
Seventeen fibroids.
At this point my uterus is basically collecting them like Pokémon.
Apparently somebody forgot to tell it that you’re not supposed to catch them all.
One Is The Size Of An Orange
And another is approximately the size of a grapefruit.
A GRAPEFRUIT.
When the doctor starts comparing things inside your body to fruit, you know you’ve entered a different stage of nonsense.
I honestly sat there staring at the report thinking:
“Excuse me?”
Because how am I casually carrying around a grapefruit and an orange and still expected to go clean buildings?
At Least I Understand More Now
The MRI explained a lot.
Why my abdomen feels swollen.
Why I look pregnant.
Why my periods have been so awful.
Why the bleeding has been so severe.
Why I feel exhausted all the time.
Everything suddenly makes more sense.
And honestly?
There’s something comforting about finally having answers.
Even when those answers aren’t exactly pleasant.
The Part That’s Worrying Me
There are two fibroids that don’t look quite right.
Now before anyone panics, let me be clear.
The report did not say they were cancer.
What it basically said is that two of them have features that make doctors want to take a closer look.
And naturally that’s the part my brain immediately focused on.
Because anxiety loves a good project.
My Brain Has Been Busy
I’ve spent the last few days trying not to overthink it.
Trying not to jump straight to worst-case scenarios.
Trying not to Google things at two in the morning.
Which, if we’re being honest, has varying levels of success.
But there is some reassuring news.
The report also noted that these areas appear localized.
They’re not showing signs of invading nearby organs.
They’re not behaving aggressively.
And that’s important.
Very important.
So for now, I’m trying to stay focused on facts instead of fear.
Easier said than done.
But I’m trying.
Life Doesn’t Stop
Despite all of this, life keeps moving.
I still woke up.
I still went to work.
I still did my shift.
I still came home to my usual collection of aches and pains.
Because apparently adulthood doesn’t pause for medical drama.
Wouldn’t that be nice though?
One Day At A Time, Lovelies
So that’s the update.
The MRI is done.
I survived the noisy tube of doom.
The results gave me answers.
Some reassuring.
Some scary.
All overwhelming.
But at least we’re moving forward.
And right now, moving forward is enough.
I know there’s still a road ahead of me.
More appointments.
More conversations.
More decisions.
But we’re getting closer.
And that’s what I’m holding onto.
I hope your weekend was wonderful.
I hope this week is gentle with you.
I hope today gave you at least one reason to smile.
And if it didn’t?
Tomorrow is another day.
Another chance.
Another beginning.
Until next time, lovelies 💋🖤
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