A week from tomorrow. March 22nd. I have found a doctor willing to do surgery. He won’t know what he’s going to do until he gets in assesses the damage.
Or, I guess changed my mind? I went from feeling pretty sad and defeated last night to penning this very snarky comment on the FDA’s decision about Essure.
Surgical consult on Monday, 500 miles from home. Babysitter booked, crazy schedule broken down into bite sized texts. Her response: “How do you do this every day?”
I feel incredible pressure pretty much all of the time. Being a mom is like that, I guess. When my son went on an overnight student council camping trip and decided it would be a funny prank to squirt shampoo into one of the teacher’s overnight bags (that ended up actually being a laptop bag) I felt that I was at…
In a (since-removed without explanation) post on the FDA’s website, it was announced today that the FDA spent the last four month poring over thousands of women’s adverse event reports related to Essure, (presumably?) investigated testimony from September’s hearing from multiple clinical trial participants who say…
Someone reached out to me last night through here. I was so surprised! They said people were wondering what had happened to me since my last posts. That, too, was a surprise. I hate being the bearer of bad news so I’ve mostly put up and shut up since my previous posts, though many things have happened.
I’m sitting here with my feet in a wooden tub of hot water. I’m about to get a pedicure-a birthday gift-and one of my favorite indulgences.
I’m on my way to be interviewed by the local news and I’m fucking pissed.