The sole benefit of being stabbed in the butt by a Lupron-wielding nurse is not getting a monthly period. Well, that and the whole cancer prevention thing. But anyway, when I managed to get a period despite the Lupron, I did the only rational thing - "MATT! HELP!"

Oddly enough, he didn't have any useful advice, so I fell back to my usual plan of panicking and calling Dr. Oncologist. Of course she wasn't on call that weekend, forcing me to explain all the gory details of my lady bits to an unknown male. At least he was more knowledgable about the subject than Matt, and he assured me that while rare, it was not unheard of for a system to empty out any lingering material. Panicking could wait until after more than 48 of bleeding.

Gee, want to guess what happened next? If you said a Monday morning visit to Dr. Gynecologist, you win! I, on the other hand, did not win, though I received a thorough poking for my troubles. And the phlebotomist withdrew enough blood to run every possible test and feed two hungry vampires. And the radiologist got a good look at my uterus from every ultrasound angle. EVERY angle.

Once all of the test results were in, the standard doctor conference call ensued. The official result? I have mighty ovaries! For some, 3.75mg is just not enough to block estrogen production, and they "break through." Time to double my dose! Oh, and I was the proud owner of a 5cm cyst on my left ovary.

If I was normal, the cyst would also be normal. Apparently they come and go without causing alarm. But I'm not normal, so while more panicking wasn't called for, it was something to keep an eye on. Thankfully, further scans showed it shrinking, and within three weeks, it was gone.