Yesterday was the big day. Life changing stuff that will make things better long-term and keep me healthier so that I can bug my daughter well into her adult life! As life is far too short to be taken too seriously - and I do believe that God has a sense of humor and is messing with us just a bit every day - I managed to find some humor in little places throughout the day.
Not to ruin the ending for you, but everything went great and my doctor is happy. If Anita is happy, then I am happy. Having been through everything together for 20+ years, she tells me like it is, and I trust her.
Observations from the infirmary:
- "Mild" is a misused word with the medical profession. if they tell you that you will experience "mild" anything, you should have already filled your Motrin 800 prescription.
- "Do you want me to help you with that" is an offer you should seriously consider when any sort of "insertion" is involved. I went with "no thanks," keeping my dignity in tact and coming out just fine.
- Opium is apparently legal if used in prescription pain drugs. I am certain that my dreams of poppies and the Wizard of Oz last night are not related at all!
- "Slight" is another misused word in the medical profession. "You may be slightly tired," or "you may experience slight this-that-or-the-other thing." Multiple it by 4 and you are closer to reality.
- If you talk in your sleep, you will likely talk while under the influence of anesthesia. Apparently I was quite entertaining - which from my perspective, a happy operating room staff is much more likely to want me to feel better more quickly, so laugh at me! I don't care!
- 23 - The number of times I asked my husband something - and I can't remember what it was. Loopy is kinda fun - for a little while!
- They all appreciated the fact that I had shaved my legs. Smooth!
- Only the head nurse gets to wear the red shower-cap-thingy. This is not be to questioned.
- Hospital chairs are not comfortable - and they SHOULD be!
All in all, a good day. Good nurses are amazing and under appreciated - like elementary school teachers and kick-ass marketers...but that's another blog entry!
At 44 1/2 I am scheduled for surgery this month that will eliminate my ability to bear more children. With this has come an infinite amount of paperwork, questions, decisions, tests, pre-surgery prescriptions and post-surgery pain killers. All of these things I have addressed as they have come at me with militant type responses - "yes, no, of course, if that's what is required."
What has been more surprising is the emotion that this brings to the surface.
As women, we spend most of our pre-teen years WISHING that our periods would begin. For me, I had to have had my first period before my first day of high school. I simply couldn't go to school and face my friends without having made the change from pre-teen to young woman! My poor mother was ill equipped to have "the talk" with any of us, and simple trusted that we had either learned from our friends, seen the cartoon that they showed at school "explaining things" or would just figure it out. She shyly left a box of pads on my bed in June 1980 and hoped that I wouldn't ask too many questions. And of course, raised as I was, I didn't. I figured it out. I cursed that I couldn't go swimming during the week that my period came, and I wished that I had the guts to ask my mom if I could shave my legs.
As women we spend the next few decades either worrying that we are pregnant, or bummed that we aren't. This whole female ride is a series of emotions, surprises and curses. My 20's and 30's decades were cursed by cancer - ovarian cancer - and an endless roller coaster of pre-cancerous cells, cancerous cells, ablations, surgeries, chemo, radiation and pretty much everything but removing all of the collective pieces and parts as I really, really wanted to be a mom.
Seven years ago the most beautiful gift was given to my husband and I. A daughter so full of life and the will to live from the moment that she entered the world. Two weeks early, breech, 5 1/2 pounds and screaming her little head off. She has been the most amazing thing that I have ever, ever done in my life, by a long shot. I wanted SO badly to give her a sibling to love and fight with, but alas, it wasn't to be.
The whole adoption adventure is documented in a previous blog, so I'll spare you the details there. Needless to say, when we returned from China without a sibling for Katrina, my doctor, who has known me for over half my life, raised an eyebrow and asked, "are you sure?"
So - at 44 1/2 I am sure that I don't want to try to have another child myself. I know that God has a plan, and will give me all of the child / children that I can handle. So yes, I am sure. I am sure that I am ready to give up that gift of being a women. I am also sure that I am ready to not have to worry with every check up, blood test, strange cramping experience, etc. that the cancer is back. I am sure that I am ready to not pretend that I feel great when I don't, and that I have infinite amounts of energy when I don't. But it is a little sad. I still remember that skinny little pre-teen who wanted SO badly to get her period before high school started. And she did. But now she is ready to turn the page, and start the next chapter.
