So I went to the endocrinologist on Wednesday.

I picked him because he came highly reccommended off of a local thyroid board. I figured that someone who was clued in on the latest in thyroid research, who was actively *interested* in thyroid disease (most endos are more interested in diabetes, which offers all sorts of challenges. Thyroid disease is boring.) would have the latest lowdown on PCOS.

And you know what?

I was right!

He took my history (I've goten remarkably adept at giving a cncise and accurate medical history in under three months, including the fact that the doctor who diagnosed me ahs since died and her records are nowhere to be found), looked at my current medication, and then did a brief examination.

He wants to do a bunch of tests, but in the end he said that i'm an excellent candidate not only for some of the newer thyroid treatments (my dose of synthroid is awfully high, which indicates difficulty in converting T4 into T3) but for metformin therapy for the glucophage. He was encouraged by my exercise habit and my attempts to eat a reasonable, low-fat diet, and said that I'm the sort of person that metformin generally helps quite a bit.

This is a big old yay, because *this* is the drug regimen i've been trying to get put on for a couple of years now.

All this, and he reccommended a primary care physician who I might get along with better than my current one. (Who reduces me to tears every time I see her. Bad patient interaction!)

So tomorrow morning, I go in for blood tests, including fasting insulin (which may or may not include a glucose challenge). Which is good, because for the past day or two I've had the uncomfortable semi-choking feeling that says that the immune attack on my thyroid has suddenly intensified for some reason. My thyroid swells under stress. Whee!

After the blood tests, I'll have another appointment with the endo, where he'll go over my numbers and start me on new drugs. (RAH RAH RAH.)

I've been entertaining myself with fond notions of getting a new body. I'll keep y'all informed.

Money. Bah.

I would just like to let you all know that the fact that I am neither Bill Gates nor Steve Allen makes me VERY GRUMPY.

I have a reasonable job, earning a reasonable amount of money. However, the past few months, I haven't been paying a lot of attention to where my money's been going. This last month, I had vet bills for Lilith, a special asessment for my condo association, and car repairs (um, two new front tires? OW.) hit all at once. so I bit the bullet, tranferred some money from savings to cover this month's bills, and went to look at my last three months' worth of bank records to figure out what's been going on.

I very quickly discovered that though I had some extraordinary expenses (car repair was not unexpected. Cat repair was. Condo thing should have been expected, but I forgot. Bad Kris.) I've mostly been spending my money on, well, eating out. And stuff for the house. Costco trips, new linens, kitchen stuff, things like that. And books. And, um, I'm not sure what else, but it was a lot, whatever it was.

I did a quick total of, say, what I spent the last three months and blanched at the figure. I ran the numbers again and said "ow" again.

So I bit the bullet and put together a budget. A budget with a bit of a slush fund built in, to be sure, but a budget that has me saving about 20% of my take-home pay for the proverbial rainy day. It's reasonable, includes all of my monthly expenses, and is a generally okay thing.

The downside? I need to stop eating sushi so much.

Mmm. Okay. I'll deal.

Dear Brain: we are not made of money. And that nice little advance on our tax refund? We're buying tires with that, *not* a new TV and DVD player. 'k, thanks, bye.

sleepy. vampires coming for my blood tomorrow. must go bed.

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