8 posts shown.
So, I actually went to see my doctor today because my lower back just totally seized up on me. Since I’m breastfeeding, she told me to stick to taking Lupocet—which isn't doing much, honestly—and using some essential oils. The pharmacist also suggested trying some horse balm.
I dealt with sciatica during my second pregnancy and the pain was absolutely brutal. It finally let up once I gave birth, but unfortunately, it’s come roaring back. It’s reached a breaking point lately—now I’ve got a stiff shoulder, lower back pain, and that sciatica shooting from my tailbone straight down my right leg. I know I have myself to blame, though—I waited way too long and just tried to tough it out. I read somewhere online that you shouldn't go too hard on massages when there's inflammation like this; it should stay pretty light.
I'm getting an MRI on my spine tomorrow, so depending on what they find, I'll probably head to a chiropractor next.
I noticed a little lump just below my groin during my pregnancy, but since I dealt with swollen lymph nodes all through childhood that would just come and go, I didn't think much of it at the time. Medutina—it’s actually been there for three years now, and a few months back, it started hurting—sometimes making my whole thigh ache. I was pregnant and honestly too terrified to see a doctor, but I finally went to my GP today. She gave me a referral to surgery with a diagnosis of *Neoplasma benignum cutis extremitatis inferioris I. sin.*
I did a bit of Googling and all I could find is that it's a benign fatty tumor on the leg. Now I’m genuinely freaking out about going to the surgeon because she mentioned the possibility of an operation. To make matters worse, it hurts even more now—I hit the gym a couple of days ago, and ever since, there's been this constant stinging and aching right around the lump.
I'm covered in these red, brown, and dark brown spots—all sorts of shapes and sizes. Over the years, most of them have actually grown out; they used to be flat, but now they're like little bumps on my skin. The ones on my neck and back really bother me—especially this one right where my bra strap sits, which I’ve already scratched a hundred times. I haven't actually seen a dermatologist about them yet, though a few do worry me because they have these dark centers and uneven, lighter edges—the kind that are usually flagged as suspicious.
They're mostly considered dangerous if they have irregular shapes.
Anyway, I have an appointment with my doctor soon regarding a lump on my leg, so I might as well bring up my concerns about these moles while I'm there.
Unfortunately, my grandfather ended up with sarcoma from a mole on his chest—it looked perfectly normal and he'd had it since birth.
I’ve been reading through your posts for a bit, so I decided to finally chime in. About five years ago, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer—she ended up having a full mastectomy. The hardest part of this whole story isn't just the illness itself, but the fact that she went for her regular annual checkups at that garbage hospital in Seattle, and during her last exam and ultrasound back in February, they told her everything was fine—even though she specifically mentioned her breast felt painful and itchy. Anyway, that was February. She felt things weren't quite right all summer, and then finally, in September, a relative took her scans from the local clinic to a specialist in Washington, D.C., where the doctors immediately saw something was wrong and called her. Turns out, the cancer was already there back in February when the other doctors brushed her off. Honestly, I’m so livid I could scream at those incompetent doctors who looked her in the face and said she was fine. It was devastating for our family; those were easily the darkest days. Her surgery was performed by Dr. Ivo Đepina, and he was absolutely incredible. Chemotherapy was brutal for her—it’s the worst feeling in the world when you can’t help the person you love most. I’ll never forget when her hair started falling out and she asked me to shave it for her—I don't even know which one of us was crying harder. Mom was totally crushed at first; we couldn't find the words to lift her spirits, but later on, she absolutely blew us away with this inner strength she found. She became so resilient.
Fast forward five years later—thank God, Mom is doing well. She goes to her regular follow-ups in Washington, D.C., and we’re praying it stays that way. I still carry this constant fear, though, that the cancer might come back.
Then, about two and a half years ago, my grandpa was diagnosed with the most aggressive sarcoma that started from a tiny little mole. Once again, my family was going through absolute hell. To make matters worse, Grandpa was diabetic. Then, last September, he collapsed, and it turned out he had a brain tumor. He had surgery, but then he developed meningitis, followed by pneumonia, and finally, his beautiful heart just stopped beating three months ago. I’m sitting here crying just thinking about the suffering he went through while we stood there helpless—we couldn't comfort him or take the pain away; he passed right before our eyes. My grandma is still struggling with deep depression today, and seeing her breaks my heart.
Over the last four years, we’ve lost my grandma (Mom's mom), then my great-grandmother, then my dad's aunt died of stomach cancer, and her brother died just a month before my grandpa. Basically, my grandma lost her mother, sister, brother, and husband all within three years. We are a very tight-knit family, so this has been a massive blow to all of us.
I’ve always been a pretty emotional and nostalgic person, so all of this has really taken its toll on me. I cry so easily—one look at an old photo and I'm a mess. One memory and I'm sobbing. It's hard to find comfort, even though I don't show that much emotion to the outside world; I usually just wait until I'm alone in bed at night to let it all out. I wish I could talk to Grandma and comfort her, but I know I’d just end up crying and making things worse. I worry about her constantly too—she had a pre-heart attack scare a few years ago, and I can't bear the thought of losing her. I wouldn't say I'm paranoid, but so much bad stuff happened in such a short window that I'm just scared for everyone.
Sorry for the long vent—it's just easier to get it off my chest this way. Like I said, if I try to talk to anyone else about it, the tears just start flowing and the conversation is over.
Sending my best to everyone.
I've stuck with taking Prenatal and Omega-3 even after giving birth. I've actually struggled with iron deficiency and anemia my whole life—but honestly, once I started these vitamins during pregnancy and through breastfeeding, my iron levels finally stabilized. It feels good knowing my milk is extra nutritious for the baby, too.
Seven is just so morbid—especially that ending with the head—but honestly, those scenes hit way too hard
Blunt from '73—and honestly, you’re a beauty. It wasn't bad at all, though I actually thought a woman was singing it until I finally caught the music video—turns out it was Boney M, Cher, and Sony...🙂