Who knew constipation and iron liked each other so much?

For the record, I’ve been taking the iron for almost two weeks now and things are moving along quite nicely.

When my surgery was scheduled I had all these plans of getting my posts about the doctor’s visits and my surgery up quickly and in chronological order.

I even have some super gross totally awesome before, during and after pictures of the inside of my uterus for your enjoyment.

But then, I actually had the surgery, and getting well thought out posts up quickly wasn’t so high on the agenda anymore.  While I was recovering, the anemia won the battle for my attention.

My initial consultation with the surgeon was on February 1, and I told him about some of my symptoms – night sweats, nausea, extreme fatigue – because I figured they might be hormonal or at the very least related to the fibroids.

He pointed out that I was really pale, and that my skin seemed sort of… yellow.  Awesome.

All signs of anemia, he said, which made sense seeing as how I was bleeding like a stuck pig every month, and had been for quite some time. He ordered some bloodwork to check my iron levels and some other thyroid-y thing.

At my next appointment, a few days before the surgery, he told me I was definitely anemic, and that my iron stores were 3 (or maybe it was 4?).  I didn’t give it much thought then, seeing as how the other part of our discussion was about how he would be cutting fibroids out of my uterus with some sort of lightening rod and then burning the skin that was left with a hot poker.  Or something like that.  I was a little nervous, so I might have gotten some of the particulars wrong.

Anyway, Jerrad had been googling things about my various conditions, and he was the one that found that symptom list I included in the last post. That is when everything clicked. Realizing that some of the symptoms I was the most worried about (mental confusion, nausea and vomiting, listlessness) were on that, or other, list(s) made me feel so much better. An answer! With a solution!

It doesn’t mean anemia is my only problem now.  I still have IBS, my uterus still lacks a significant amount of awesomeness,  and I’m still a neurotic nut job.

But. I learned that one of the things anemia does is take the problems, issues, and tendencies your body already has and make them worse.  Add to that the fact that no part of your body is ever functioning with the appropriate amount of oxygen, and it’s easy to see how you can start feeling like shit.  Quickly.

I can’t even describe the exhaustion.  It feels like you haven’t slept for days.  Like there are weights on your arms and legs.  Like you’re moving through water instead of air.

Four years ago, I woke up every day at 4:45 am to exercise for an hour and a half, then I went to work for 8-10 hours as an intake worker for child welfare.  A job that uses quite a bit of emotional and mental energy, not to mention requires multitasking skills.  I had hobbies, I read at least a book a week, I maintained friendships, and started a relationship with my husband.

Now? I don’t even know that bitch anymore.

I fall apart if I have more than two or three things I have to do in a day.

I’m like a toddler – you can’t give me a task to do that has more than two parts or I see something shiny and forget what I was doing.

Despite having all the time in the world, I can’t seem to accomplish anything of significance in a day.

I have bouts of nausea that last two or three days at a time.  Where I throw up literally every single thing I eat and drink.  Then it just… goes away.  As randomly as it showed up.  I’ve been calling these IBS flare-ups because I don’t know what else to call them.  Even though they’re nothing like flare-ups I’ve had in the past.

Although I make jokes about being lazy, the feelings of listlessness I’ve been having were pretty scary, too.  I didn’t understand where they were coming from.  I didn’t understand where my personality went.  I knew that I felt content and happy and not depressed, but at the same time things were just… blah.   It’s hard to find the right words to explain it.

But when you think about it, I got a pretty good anemia deal compared to some.  Others have more dangerous symptoms, or have consequences and reactions to things because they don’t even know they have anemia.

Others get more disturbing interesting pica symptoms like craving dirt or paint chips.

I haven’t gotten any of that, but I do notice that I crave foods with iron, like beef and spinach.

And? This one time I was cooking a burger and when the blood started oozing up through the patty I had the strangest urge to lick it.  Then I started literally drooling.  Like one of Pavlov’s dogs.

And no, I didn’t actually lick the burger. Gross! Although it did make me think about how it was a good thing I wasn’t a vampire.

Which is a shame because vampires are sort of awesome and they probably hardly ever get anemia.  Not pale, scrawny, sparkly virgin vampires that need to take a shower and wash their hair, but sexy vampires.   Like Mitchell from Being Human.

Yummy.

Do you watch Being Human? You should start now, because SyFy is going to do some crappy American remake.  That I’ll piss and moan about like a snobby purist and end up watching anyway.