Crisis? What Crisis?
Posted on | March 15, 2007 |
The idea of surgery sort of complicated the whole idea of taking a leave of absence from my job — well, career. Becoming a house potato, cleaning closets, and generally calming down for a few weeks and then returning to work feeling stud-like because I had avoided anti depressants or something to calm my blood pressure didn’t involve plans for surgery. But after receiving results of my physical from doctor #1, I now had to see someone else for opinion #2. Two in a month when I had managed to avoid them for five years?
With referral in hand, I called to schedule an appointment. If I wanted to see a Dr. Female OB/GYN, the wait was over a month. The Dr. Male in the same office had appointments available within a week. More about that whole business another time. I made my appointment with Dr. Male dreading the whole issue of yet another exam. Things went as I expected up to a point. I was invited into Dr. Man’s office and settled in for the news. “You have some fibroids, but they’re pretty small.” I already know this, but find myself thinking I might get some validation for feeling so sorry for myself. I ask him, “What next?” Dr. Man says, “Well, you could just leave them there. They’re no big deal, and you could come back in six months so I can take another look.” Oh sure. That sounds like something I’d jump at. He already knows one of my issues is dealing with very heavy periods all my life so he adds, “Or you could decide to have a hysterectomy.” Huh? I hate that part because my leave of absence involves not making decisions that matter and it has been working. Before I can respond, he asks,”How long have you and your husband been married?”
“Nineteen years,” I say, confused about where this is going.
“Is it loose when you and your husband have sex?”
“Loose. Loose? What? Excuse me?” I’m semi mortified at this point mostly because I don’t even know Dr. Man. It doesn’t really make a difference whether he’s a physician or not.
“You know, loose. You’ve had three kids.”
“Uh, well, um, you’d probably need to ask my husband. I…”
Dr. Man interrupts me to say, “Because I can take out the fibroids and while I’m in there, can tighten things up. You’ll be just like a young virgin again.” I’m trying to decide if I should burst out laughing, or continue to sit amazed and wonder how many women actually make appointments for this “adjustment” sort of thing and if it’s covered by their insurance.
Unfortunately, “the adjustment” wasn’t in the cards for me. My relatively simple vaginal hysterectomy turned into the real deal because I was covered with endometriosis. Go figure. Not only did I have to recover from three small incisions, but a much larger “bikini” incision as well — not that I’m planning on a bikini in the immediate future. Dr. Man checked in on me after surgery and commented that I had been a mess inside. “You must be quite the stoic person,” he said and asked again about whether I had been in any pain. That’s a relative issue in my family. We were taught to suck it up on a regular basis. “No, not really…well, I don’t know,” I said. Although I had done some research before the surgery, I could tell I was going to need some answers about how I could have such a problem and not know about it, other than I’m a freak of nature and don’t feel things the way others do.
Life goes on. And I learned that it goes on for about 600,000 women each year who go through this ordeal. Can you believe there is actually a website called Hyster Sisters? You know when you have that feeling that something has already happened and you probably missed it, but the regret is only fleeting? Well, that would be me looking at that website.
I read what others had posted and got the sense that they may not have the support I did and I had one of those moments where the fairy whacks me on the head in a demonstration of, SEE???? when I’m too wrapped up in myself to count my lucky stars. I was more amazed that there are industrious people who have yet again come up with an idea that provides something worthwhile to others.
Here’s my entry from January 8:
“Anyway, here I sit. Today, the pangs from the incisions haven’t yet happened. What is very apparent, though, is the ache already in my neck, and if I sit here longer, the one that will begin to creep into my back. It’s annoying, and I’m sure a result of having no stomach muscles — or stomach muscles that have been sliced in several places. Ugh. Thinking about it gives me a squiggy feeling. And looking at what is left of my abdomen is not something I look forward to. With all the mirrors in our bathroom, looking is unavoidable. At least I used to be able to dupe myself into thinking I had my stomach in control. Of course, it was quite a large dose of dupe. Now? There is a large spongy mass punctuated by two drooping regions near what used to be hip bones in about 1986 when I last saw them. I read that I can work my abs in about three months. Give me a break. First of all, working my abs isn’t something I do. Sit ups and leg lifts are more like what I act like I do. Second, if I couldn’t find hip bones before, in three months, it could be ugly. Well, more ugly than now. I’ll think about it later. That’s the one cool thing about the recovery period. I’m at day 13 and I actually get to sit and do nothing if I want not thinking about whatever I don’t want to think about but really am. It isn’t as easy as it sounds. My rear end gets sore and getting up and down isn’t always comfortable. I chalk it up to what little exercise I get at this point though.”
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2 Responses to “Crisis? What Crisis?”
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By N2H
March 15th, 2007 @ 11:46 pm
Hmmmm, I’m wondering if Dr. Female would have made the offer “to tighten things up”… :)
March 16th, 2007 @ 3:14 am
Good one. I hadn’t thought of that! She is much younger than he is, and if she had asked, I’m sure I would have been more comfortable.