The nurses at my doctor's office just don't know me very well if they think telling me my liver function blood test came back abnormal, while assuring me that "it's okay, we'll test it again next month" in the same breath will prevent me from WebMD-ing myself to sleep every night. In the back of my mind I will absolutely be planning what my family will do after my funeral.
I am the Olympic gold medalist of long-jumping to the most far-fetched, dramatic conclusion. Every. Single. Time.
The less dramatic, yet still aggravating possible outcome is liver problems that have to be treated with the terrible drug I hate to love, and love to hate...
for the rest of my life. In which case, I should probably just schedule a gastric bypass now since just 4 months on it has added an annoying 10 lbs a month to my figure. blah! I hate you prednisone, but you work wonders, but I hate you. I hate how cranky and angry I feel, ALL the TIME, when I'm taking that drug, which also happens to greatly help my joints to work when they are otherwise disinclined. Grumble Grumble Grumble.
Or it could just be nothing. It's most likely nothing. It's really very highly probable that it's absolutely nothing. And even though I know this, I'm still going to check the whites of my eyes for the jaundice of liver failure every single time I pass a slightly reflective surface because, what can I say, I'm awesome like that.