Today I served an eviction notice to a particularly troublesome organ: my uterus. After putting off this decision for a while, I decided to go ahead with getting a hysterectomy. I’m also getting my tubes removed. I elected to leave my ovaries intact unless tests come back saying they need to go too. I am not keen on starting menopause this early.
I was actually supposed to have this done nearly 10 years ago when the issue arose the first time. I put it off for many reasons. I mean at the time, I had excellent health insurance with a tiny deductible which would have covered most of it. Mainly I just didn’t want to. I had tried talking to my husband at the time and he didn’t even want to discuss it, told me that he’d “rather not know” and just to “go get it taken care of.” Plus I was given medication to delay the problem. Looking back, I should have just gotten it over and done with, as it would have saved me a lot of health issues down the road.
But hind sight is always 20/20, right?
I discussed this with my mother during Christmas, just to warn her that it would be coming because after 6 months of hella scary bleeding and pain, I wasn’t getting any better, and there was a chance the abnormality was something dangerous (big “C”). She was a bit upset and tried to convince me that if it’s not life-threatening yet to keep putting off the hysterectomy.
Let’s face it, I am not going to have any kids. Yes, I still could if I wanted to, but it’s simply not going to happen. I don’t feel the call. Yes, I have plenty of love to give if I meet someone who has kids already. Or, we could adopt. I had no problem loving and raising Jessie as my own. I love to love, that’s how I’m built.
So yeah, I haven’t told her yet. I’ve only told my best friend and my boss. And now y’all.
I am not seeing anyone, so no need to worry about that, but there is one guy who’s interested and made that interest known repeatedly. I’m telling him tonight because I think he was thinking we’d get together soon and that’s simply not going to happen when I’ve been cut open, sewn shut, then doped up on pain pills. I’m a terrible patient. :)
I’m a bit anxious. Actually, that’s a lie. I’m a *LOT* anxious. I don’t like doctors, or needles, or hospitals … but I keep reminding myself that I’ll be much better once this is over and done. My “full moon” weeks won’t be near as bad. I’ll have a lot easier time dropping this extra weight (because it started piling on when this whole mess started!). I will finally be off my funky hormone pills, which may actually help with my depression. It’s two less pills to take once it’s gone.
I was dismayed to find that I’ve regained every single pound I dropped last year. My being sick has made it hard to stay on the diet. Once it’s gone and I’m off the pills, the weight should start dropping more easily too.
My uterus is an asshole. Time to go, asshole!
So yeah, that’s where I am right now. I’m tired of being sick. I’m scared. And I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to give my mother the “it’s my body” speech again, but I’ll deal.
Hope y’all are having a better year so far!