Friday, May 27, 2011


     I've recently been told by my Gyn that a complete abdominal hysterectomy is necessary.  At this news I actually had a sense of relief because my female workings have never been kind.  Each month brings some new pain, twinge, cramp, mood, food craving, panic attack, etc.  It's just never been fun for me from the beginning. However, since hitting 40, the fun is really not in existence.  Finally, for the first time since I've "become a woman" I have regular monthlies.  However, these monthly gifts are accompanied by night sweats, hot flashes, killer cramps and semi-homicidal tendencies.  I know, 40(ish) is young to have the menopause symptoms, but like I said, my female workings seem to be less than perfect. 
I've been in pain for the greater part of a year; well, extreme pain that is.  Some days it is almost impossible to walk between the shooting pains from my lower abdomen and down my leg into my knee.  I've had an upper GI, two colonoscopies, intra-vaginal and abdominal ultrasounds, 6 pelvic exams, x-rays, mri's, ct scans all in the last 6 months.  Being that I work at the facility I get my health care at I sometimes wonder if they ever get together to discuss my anatomy since I've been intimate (in my warped mind) with several people.  I've been to the ER twice in the last month, numerous visits to my "Women's" health care provider to FINALLY get referred to an actual Gyn.  After a five minute, excruciating pelvic/vaginal exam, he concludes that scar tissue from my cesarean almost 22 years ago has fused my uterus to the right, and that I seem to have a lot of scar tissue through out,which explains A LOT.  Unfortunately all the scans I've had in the last six months do not show scar tissue. For awhile there I was convinced that I was imagining the pain because every test came back healthy. I was shocked to realize that I would get more depressed hearing "negative results" because I could not name the source of the pain. So, getting the word that there is a problem was relieving. Until I had time to think about it. 
     Mind you, I'm not really struggling with the hysterectomy in and of itself. Finally, no pain and heck, what was once fertile ground is now only a playground, and a seldom played on one at that.   I'm not even particularly stressed about the onslaught of menopause; I've been dabbling with it already for about 4 years.  What is weighing heavily on my mind is the fact that now I will have to face, in part, my mortality.  I'm no kid anymore.  I can wear all the trendy clothes and hot hairstyles I want.....the fact will still remain that I am about to have my inner organs, those which designate me as female, removed from within. I'm jazzed that my surgeon will remove the original cesarean scar instead of leaving a really ugly one that has been opened twice. (Can you say "Tummy Tuck"?) Yet, still, I'm about to end a large chapter of my life.  I have more or less ignored middle age but now I'm forced to admit, damn, I'm middle aged and my parts are, well, falling apart.  Not wanting more children and not being able to have them are two entirely different things.  The thoughts of no more periods, tampons, pads, cramps and all that loveliness should have me thrilled, right?  Then why am I struggling with this?  Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for it to be done because this pain has seriously affected my quality of life.  I can't play with my kids and grand kids, nor can I do my best at my job because I'm in pain 99% percent of my time.  We will not even mention intimacy with my husband.  Walking hurts. Standing hurts. Sitting hurts. I have to sit in this weird position leaning to the left with my right thigh elevated just so I can get a little relief.  My doctor has prescribed Vicoden, but has warned me not to take it...(Something about dulling the pain killers post surgery.) So, why do I feel depressed about it? I'm a huge contradiction; again, no issue with the surgery itself. Then again, I will be having parts of me removed. I will not have that which defined me as a woman.  Sure, I'll still have the box it all came in which will require far less attention and maintenance, but, well, but.....I don't know if I'm ready to face my maturity.  Everyone that has had the surgery has told me that I will feel like a new woman and will never regret it; I'm sooo down with that. But at what expense to my mind? Am I just being a cry baby expecting to have my cake and eat it too?  Am I irrational? 
     To date this surgery is scheduled for July 25th, with great hopes of it being moved up.  Between now and then I'm sure I'll have a lot of ups and downs. 
    I'll keep you posted.  

Saturday, May 21, 2011

I Think, Therefore I've confused myself.

WOW! It's been forever since I've posted. Mind you, I said posted. I've written many posts in my head but never seem to get them to type. A lot has changed in my life since my last post, many things for the better. I'm still in school working on a Masters in Social Work. I've decided to take the summer break however, because my brain is TIRED. I work at a veterans health care facility now and I've finally married my significant bother, I mean, significant other. I have a step-grandson that is almost two and the light of my life. My only bio-child, Brandi, is in the Navy, currently stationed in Japan. Life may not always be good but it does go on.

I have to laugh at myself. I just realized that as brave as I try to portray, I am not that brave. Today is supposed to be "doomsday" and I just caught myself checking the time. Do I believe in that shtuff, (yes, shtuff)? No, not really, but I am just paranoid enough to have that niggling "what if" thought in the back of my head. Our modern day predictor, Preacher Harold Camping, needs to get his money back on the How to Predict the End of the Earth classes.  He has previously predicted that the world would end in 1994 and here we are in 2011 still waiting...( Nostradamus (sp?) had predicted many things that have not come true. Of course, his predictions were made back in the time that opiates were not considered drugs....Heck, be honest, some of the best writings come from that era. Edgar Allen Poe, for example, was sick and twisted, but dang he's a great read. Telltale Heart: Thu-dump, thu-dump, thu-dump. Awesome tome to scare yourself silly. (I have his greatest stories in a leatherbound edition.)

I just finished a philosophy class that covered such greats (freaks?) as Socrates, Plato and Nietzsche. Now, those were some twisted, um, alternatively thinking dudes. Philosophy, on the surface,  makes some valid points of sense. Deeper, however, and your brain starts twisting in your head trying to make it all work together. You've been raised to believe certain ways about certain things and here comes this philosophy jazz that makes just enough sense for you to start doubting yourself and your beliefs. Now me, being overly analytical as I am, had to over think everything, run pro/con mental lists and then try to parallel the teachings and ultimately caused a train-wreck of confusion between understanding what we had learned as children and was now being presented to me as an adult. My professor stated that we would likely be insulted at some point in this class, as it attacks the basics of our foundation such as love, religion, etc.. I was never insulted, although I did take in enough of the differences to start wondering if, perhaps, we were just really matter and did not exist at all. Hmmm. Food for Prozac, oops, food for thought. Now, the purpose of this class is to teach one to think outside the box and boy howdy, you do, unless you are resistant to any form of thought other than what you possessed from parental and societal programming before the class. The moral of my story, you ask? I have none. I do know that I tend to read too much into things and am really a sacrificial lamb for some cult guru to brainwash. Me thinks I think too much. Or do I?  (Thinking.)