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Tests results are in : AMH : 5.37 & FSH : 9 mIU/mL.

While my OBGYN assures me I am good to go on the fertility preservation frontier I started to Google . . . 

My breadth of comprehensive google research has left me fairly concerned and definitely hyped up the anxiety. 

A typical healthy 30 year old : AMH 3.2 and FSH 6.3

I apparently have high quantity of low quality eggs - great right?! I didn't even go near webmd!

So I might have Pelvic Inflammatory Disease and/or I am at risk for ovarian hyper stimulation syndrome. 

I might not even make the cut.

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Oophorectomy?  How do you even pronounce that?!

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Google : Hypotension

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Don't mess with : my heating pad, my bathtub or my bed. F with those & ya might just die

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It took 21 years for Lizzie, now 37, to finally be diagnosed with the gynecological condition, in which the endometrial cells that grow in the uterus (and are shed during periods) develop in other areas like the bladder or ovaries, causing chronic pain, internal bleeding, and, often, infertility. (Symptoms are wide-ranging, from severe abdominal pain to inability to get pregnant.)" http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/lizzie-oleary-endometriosis

@michelleruiz, @lizzieohreally,

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Day 25 : vertigo, tired, and a little numbness in my pinky fingers. I am also having the WORST break out on my face which is just a giant pain in the ass considering that in under 30 days I will be 30 years old. I am having a hard time typing this out and siting up straight without wobbling or feeling like I am going to black out …“

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#TBT :  To that time a cyst burst while on a sales call. After a brief sex ed overview on ovarian function, my twenty something hot-shot boss graciously allowed me to excuse myself to the ER.  Thank you Sir!

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Google : Dating without Ovaries

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Day 22 : tired, really attractive blue-purple bags under my eyes, hands are numb/tingly, and I’m bloated. Barely made it out of a work related event tonight. Nuclear warfare erupted in my pelvis. This was a full on 911 code red & I had to leave.  As I graciously hobbled my way out of the restaurant (without saying goodbye) I jumped into the wrong honda, a blue uber instead of my grey lyft. I rolled myself out as the uber driver screamed “you are not mike! get out of my car!” and made my way over to the other ride-share experience. Two stops later and that grey honda slams the breaks which of course feels amaaazing! Key in, clenching my entire body in the elevator and hoping I won't have to explain my situation to one of the many 24 year olds who live in my predominantly male building. Key into my abode, throw purse into the living room, grab my beloved ice packs, and pull myself up the steel stair case. Hello bathtub.   Whewwww ice packs and hot water just takes me away.

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At first I thought I was just becoming chunky monkey. I had left college, which was in a walking city and moved home to a definite driving city. Every time I hopped into my awesome golden chariot (*1992 was a great year for Mercedes) I felt a stab. As I drove my side would start to hurt. I legit thought that was my body telling my that my gut, currently hanging over my tight belt, was not supposed to be there i.e. my pants were shrinking. As a newly invested huffalump I didn’t put more thought into it until it started to happen every time I drove and sometimes sat down.  That was just the beginning …