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I’ve been putting off posting about the visit to the maternal-fetal specialist partly because I don’t want this to be a pregnancy/medical blog and also because I’ve been giving the situation some thought. What I learned is that my body at some point mistakenly decided to create antibodies to a chemical called plasminogen activator inhibitor which helps break down blood clots. It’s kind of an autoimmune problem. By all rights I should have recurrent miscarriages and blood clots. And I don’t. The theory is that, ironically, my liver, which as you almost certainly do not recall has always been whack (I get it from my mom), makes me clot less because of its particular dysfunction. So my defects seem to be canceling themselves out. The doctor didn’t seem all that concerned, just quite intrigued (his word, in fact–though “intriguing” is not the kind of patient I would like to be; “boring” or “routine” would be better).

All this sounds odd but the appointment was pretty good. Other issues were discussed in ways that are a little to a lot satisfactory in my opinion, and I had an ultrasound and things are looking fine, and a treatment plan that makes me content, though a still-incorrect due date.

What’s weird is if you list it all out I have a lot of strange, alarming-sounding medical problems–head to, literally, toes–but I feel absolutely fine and well and capable. Though these things, of course, well, I’d prefer I not have them, yet they are not causing me pain or difficulty really, and I am doing all I can (excellent diet, some exercise) to keep myself in good working order. And I do follow doctors’ orders, so what else is there? It does suggest a shitstorm in old age, though. I think I have risk factors all over the place for: diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, stroke, uh…some other bad stuff. But nothing I can do but eat well and hope for the best. My GP says you can tell from my bloodwork I have horrible DNA but fantastic habits.

Whenever I tell my mom about my medical weirdnesses she gets really apologetic and then sort of defensive about my genetic inheritance. “I’m so sorry I gave you such horrible genes” turns into “I always fed you healthy food growing up, and no one else in the family has these problems!” It would never occur to my dad to take responsibility (in more ways than one) but he gets very dramatic about how concerned I must be about these issues. Like I said, if I had a choice I wish I did not have them, but I really do feel strong and healthy and I am confident in the care I am getting, and now that I have lost so much weight, the doctors never blame me for them anymore.