Printing ‘R’ Us

I’m off to the Thomson-Shore 9th Annual Information Seminar tomorrow and Tuesday. I’m thrilled to be attending my first professional event as a representative of the Press. A little nervous, as well, if I’m being totally honest. It will be a learning experience!

Escape

So, I’ve discovered the secret to working at home success. You want to know what it is?

Don’t work at home.

Well, that’s the secret to my working at home success. I’ve been taking refuge in the local Biggby Coffee (formerly known as Beaner’s [that's what it was in Duluth--and still is, now that I think of it; must have purchased the name or something]) the last couple of days. I’ve gotten a ton of work done, and it’s been pure bliss.

I just can’t look at all those empty (or half-full) boxes that should be full. I can’t look at my bookshelves that, after this morning’s packing, are nearly empty, knowing I should be packing more stuff just like I did my beloved books. With the move so close–less than a month away–and no lease in place at a new place, I’m stressed to the max. I escape to the land of getting rid of chiggers, wasps, silverfish, bees, and other assorted creepy-crawly things. I’ll be working on my master’s project during my next retreat. Money won out this weekend.

Confession #3

Oh, and I’m also the new Web editor for St. Paul Media, Jonathan Hatch’s super successful and ever-growing business.

So far, it has been nothing but a good time, and I’m sure that will continue as his business grows. He hires great people, like old colleagues from BSU. You can’t go wrong with Beavers!

One more awesome thing to balance out the suckiness of the PCOS.

When God closes a door, He opens a window. (That’s as religious as I’ll get on this here blog, I promise.)

Confession #2

So, you remember that job I declared I wanted but then assumed I had jinxed myself and I wouldn’t get?

I got it.

I’m the new Journals Production Editor for Wayne State University Press.

This is my second week on the job, and I’m loving every minute of it. The learned curve is set incredibly high, but I’m excited about the challenges it holds for me. I actually had to bring home a page proof today because I’m under a deadline, but that’s still OK with me.

There’s a lot of great stuff in the Press’ journals department, and I’m excited to be spearheading it. I probably won’t talk about it much, but I may mention events we’re doing and such.

One of the many amazing things going on in my life right now.

Confession

This is going to be a tough post to write for me. So, why am I writing it? Because it might help some women. Talking about it has already helped at least one woman, and I think it’s better to talk about it than keep it quiet. My life is an open book, anyway. Why should this be different?

Intrigued, aren’t you?

I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) on July 17th, 2008. I had an inkling that I had PCOS; there are other women with PCOS in my family, and though doctors have not officially made the genetic connection, they have noticed that women who are diagnosed with it usually have a sister or mother or aunt, etc. with PCOS, as well.

What is PCOS? I can’t really describe it very well, so check out a definition here. My symptoms were pretty simple: No menstrual cycle, my hair started to thin, I had terrible acne on both my shoulders and face (and I have always had beautiful skin, even throughout puberty), and I gained 20 pounds, all around my midsection. Rocks to be me.

After talking to my OB/GYN, he ran a few blood tests and deemed me PCOS-free. He told me to wait it out. I had been off of birth control since January, and this was June. He thought that my body was taking its time to adjust. I thought otherwise.

A month later, after much discussion with the hubby and friend and family, I decided to take the plunge and set up an appointment with a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE). I researched local ones, and found a female RE (I love male doctors, but there’s something about a male RE that just doesn’t work for me) with a specialization in PCOS.

The hubby went with me to the appointment, and even though the damn thing was two and a half hours long, it was worth it. Even though she didn’t want to label me PCOS, the similarities were too great to ignore. She started me on Metformin XR (Met), which is a diabetes medication. It treats the insulin resistance (IR) associated with PCOS, and I have all the symptoms of IR. She then ran more bloodwork after forcing a cycle (not fun, by the way; the modd swings are enough to make a lesser man fun…thank goodness I married a man of steel), and though it came back normal, she still believes I have PCOS.

PCOS is a tricky duck–even if your bloodwork doesn’t show anything abnormal, you could still have it. You could have the cysts on your ovaries, but if you don’t have an ultrasound, you can’t tell. Or you could have the ultrasound done at the wrong time, and you won’t see them. Or you might never see the extra cysts on your ovaries and still have PCOS. It’s just too hard to diagnose, so many OB/GYNs don’t even try. Or they don’t know about it.

But here’s the thing: 1 in 10 women of childbearing age have PCOS. 1 in 10!! Think about that. Many of them just don’t recognize the symptoms. And birth control is the main way to treat PCOS, so many women don’t realize they have it until after they go off birth control.

So, here’s the part I’ve been avoiding talking about, but I know someone is going to ask about it, so I might as well put it out there right now and avoid any confusion.

The hubby and I have been trying to get pregnant for ten months now. I’m 23. He’s 26. We’re both in good health (with the exception of the heart stuff, I’m fit as a fiddle, with the exception of those 20 extra pounds I packed on and can’t lose from the PCOS), and our families have no history of having problems conceiving (even the family members with PCOS in my family haven’t had that much trouble). So, when no pregnancy test said, “Yay! You’re preggo!” after so many months, we knew something was up, even beyond all my symptoms.

This has been a heart-wrenching year for me so far because of this. Everything else in my life seems to be going just peachy, but this is one part that just cannot line up. Even after nearly 3 months on the Met, we can’t get pregnant. I have one regular cycle last month, but now I’m almost two weeks late, and there is no baby on the way (according to three pregnancy tests; they were taken well spaced out, so don’t think I’m psycho, please). And my hair is still thinning. It’s getting to the point where I’m noticing it without looking hard, though, thankfully, I was blessed with thick hair normally, so it’s still not noticeable by anyone other than myself. And I can’t lose the weight. That’s frustrating, considering I eat pretty well and I work out 2-3 times each week. But the acne has let up. At least something is going right.

I promise this blog won’t become a pity party, but I would really like to write about it. I’ve been avoiding it because it’s a sensitive issue with me, and I feel like I would be judged. Given my normal attitude of “I don’t care what other people think,” this is seriously out of character for me.

So, now I’m liberating myself by writing it in this incredibly public place. Because I hope other women will read it and say, “Hey, that’s what’s up with me. Maybe I should get this checked out.” Or, “I’m not a freak at all! Someone else is going through this, too!”

You all are welcome to leave comments on this. Or not. It’s completely up to you. Thanks for listening/reading. It was something I needed to get off my chest.