There’s An IUD in the Pelvis
It’s been over 13 years since I was first diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease. A year ago I enrolled in a drug study that has finally controlled my digestive issues. Six months ago I began experiencing crippling joint and muscle pain. My Neck, My Back would be a hilarious go-to theme song, except it hurts to laugh.
Things haven’t been very funny around here lately despite my best efforts to assure everyone I am fine. Mainly because I’m not.
I’ve got a team of doctors to help manage whatever this is. So far, all signs point to spondyloarthropathy. Essentially, my body is inflamed and does not know how to properly handle itself. I can’t take it anywhere.
A lot has happened since I was initially hospitalized in 1998. Back then, texting did not exist. Britney Spears was still a virgin. So was I. It would be a few months before I built my first website. Now, test results are delivered over the Internet. I send all caps emails to my rheumatologist in the middle of the night.
Last week I received the above analysis. While it all comes down to a series of endless details not pictured, one thing is clear: there is an IUD in the pelvis.
At least we can all sleep easy knowing there is an IUD in the pelvis. Are you hungry? Well, we could order out, or there’s IUD in the pelvis. Ladies and gentleman, do not be startled, but there is an IUD in the pelvis. Come n’ get it, fellas, there’s an IUD in the pelvis.
I have had that one sentence, which means nothing to my diagnosis, stuck in my head for days. And the IUD, it continues to sit in my pelvis. My uterus, to be exact. I’d laugh out loud, but it hurts. I suppose the IUD is laughing right along with me, on the inside.

There’s An IUD in the Pelvis

It’s been over 13 years since I was first diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease. A year ago I enrolled in a drug study that has finally controlled my digestive issues. Six months ago I began experiencing crippling joint and muscle pain. My Neck, My Back would be a hilarious go-to theme song, except it hurts to laugh.

Things haven’t been very funny around here lately despite my best efforts to assure everyone I am fine. Mainly because I’m not.

I’ve got a team of doctors to help manage whatever this is. So far, all signs point to spondyloarthropathy. Essentially, my body is inflamed and does not know how to properly handle itself. I can’t take it anywhere.

A lot has happened since I was initially hospitalized in 1998. Back then, texting did not exist. Britney Spears was still a virgin. So was I. It would be a few months before I built my first website. Now, test results are delivered over the Internet. I send all caps emails to my rheumatologist in the middle of the night.

Last week I received the above analysis. While it all comes down to a series of endless details not pictured, one thing is clear: there is an IUD in the pelvis.

At least we can all sleep easy knowing there is an IUD in the pelvis. Are you hungry? Well, we could order out, or there’s IUD in the pelvis. Ladies and gentleman, do not be startled, but there is an IUD in the pelvis. Come n’ get it, fellas, there’s an IUD in the pelvis.

I have had that one sentence, which means nothing to my diagnosis, stuck in my head for days. And the IUD, it continues to sit in my pelvis. My uterus, to be exact. I’d laugh out loud, but it hurts. I suppose the IUD is laughing right along with me, on the inside.