Well, I took the much appreciated advice and called the doctor about my epic Margaret. I immediately regretted calling because they insisted I make an appointment to be seen. I hate going to the doctor, mostly because I'm lazy and impatient.
I will ignore (complain, but do nothing) most illness and/or symptoms that could be a problem. Now, that's not completely true, I will turn to Google for answers. For instance, if my lung fell out of my ass I would Google "lung fell out of my ass" in hopes of finding a simple explanation or a home remedy. Anything to avoid going to the doctor.
I'm not remotely afraid of the doctor or needles, I don't even mind spreading my business, but I do have a healthy fear of the doctor's scale so that's another reason I postpone doctor visits. I could have a tumor growing out of my side with hair, teeth, and one lidless eyeball and I'd probably just name it Wally and feed it (once it grew a mouth). I'd rather be best friends with my tumor than step on that scale and have the nurse give me the oh, so judgemental, "o.k."
However, I'm also very in tune with my body so I'm confident that when I pronounce myself cancer-free, I know what I'm talking about. When my nurse scolded me for being late with my yearly exam I assured her I did not have the cancer and though she scoffed....I was right, bitch!
Bottom line, I don't go to the doctor much, but this Margaret was so out of control, plus I've had a couple of crazier than usual moments, I thought I'd better get my teeny, tiny, little cross-bow checked out before I checked out. Guess what? Just as I suspected, cross-bow is in perfect position and everything looks fine. Obi Gyn says to give it a month and see if it evens out. Huh. Ok. That's basically what Google said to do so I'm going with it. But, if this Margaret doesn't stop soon I'm going to start wearing adult diapers because they hold a lot more and, remember, I'm lazy.
I think they should use this picture on the cover of the IUD pamphlet. Doesn't it scream "worry-free contraceptive?"