Thursday, June 26, 2014

I'm Sorry to Have Taken Your Time

I haven't written much the last few months.  There's a very good reason why.  Since my diagnosis of uterine prolapse and then my decision to have a total hysterectomy and oophorectomy I really can't think of much else.  I've written a few posts about it but not a lot.

And here's why - I'm pretty sure everyone in my life is sick of hearing about it.

So how am I supposed to write if all I can think about is something others are bored with?

As I pondered this question I realized two things.  First, it's my blog and I can write about whatever I want.  I'm always saying my blog is more for me than for anyone else.  So why am I holding back this time?  Which leads me to the second realization.  I am holding back because again I feel like I am inflicting myself on others and it's my job to protect them from having to experience my life.

That last part is an ongoing issue for me.  It has been for as long as I can remember.  I often feel guilty when I take others' time.  There are many people I would like to be closer to.  There are many people I'd like to visit.  There are many people I'd like to spend time with.  But I don't initiate these encounters because their time is limited and they shouldn't have to spend it with me.

Even when people have loosely invited me to do so.

"Let me know when we can get together for lunch."  "Stop by again some time."  "Come see me."  But because there's no scheduled time I am sure I'll pick the wrong time and they will let me stay to be polite, but they will be counting the minutes until I leave because they've got things to do.  More important things to do.  More important than me.

It sounds stupid when I say it; but it's how I feel.

Why do I feel this way?  I'm pretty sure it's because my parents always made me feel like I was a burden.  So now I feel like a burden to everyone.  (Which is also why it's so difficult for me to ask for help - even when I really need it.)

And because I am such a burden, I want to protect people from me.  I don't want to be the albatross around their neck.

It's dumb.  And I'm working on it.  And now that I've realized it about this situation I'm going to stop it.

This is my blog.  And I want to write about my pain and upcoming surgery.  And if you don't want to read about it, you're a big girl (or boy) and can take care of yourself.  Click away and go somewhere else.  You are responsible for your choices and feelings and I am responsible for mine.

I'm hurting.  A lot!  I feel like there is an alien inside my uterus eating me alive as it chews and claws its way out.  My ovaries feel like they are tied in knots (okay, maybe that's my fallopian tubes).  Sharp, shooting pain that radiates down my leg making it difficult to walk.  Sometimes I can't stand up straight because it hurts so bad.  There is no position that makes it better and no pain killer seems to help.

I have so much I still want to do to get my home and life ready for my recuperation time.  It's four days away now so I'm running out of time.  It's a bad time to be hurting so much because I can't do anything.  It is making me prioritize though, decide what's the most important to get done.  It's also reminding me I'm making the right decision about having surgery.

You see, I'm terrified of the surgery.  But more terrified about life after surgery.

I don't want to be anesthetized. I don't want to be cut open.  I don't want parts of my body removed.  I don't want those first moments coming out of anesthesia, being disoriented, nauseous, and helpless.

I don't want to be the patient.  I don't want to be the center of attention.  I don't want to need help.  I don't want to be weak.

I don't want to hurt.  I don't want to be on narcotics.  I don't want the rebound headache that's going to follow.  I don't want the potential depression that could come from sedative use.  I don't want the hormonal hurricane that will follow and the emotional trauma I could experience and/or cause.

I don't want my family to worry about me, especially my children.

I don't want to be an inconvenience to anyone.  I don't want to take their time and emotional energy.

And we're right back where this post started.  I don't want to be a burden or a bother.

The decision is right.  I am sure of this in my heart.  And mind.  And body.  I just wish it didn't come with so much other junk.

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Tuesday, June 10, 2014

How My Prolapsed Uterus is Like a Pregnancy

I counted the other day and it turns out I will be having my hysterectomy and oophorectomy (removal of the ovaries) about nine months after I first started really hurting and knew I needed to go to the doctor.  This got me thinking about the other ways this whole thing has been like a pregnancy.

The biggest similarity is the nesting.  Okay, I'm not getting my house ready for a new baby, but I have been deep cleaning and getting my house ready for my down time and possibly visitors.  I don't generally receive visitors in my bedroom, but that will be a possibility for a few days after surgery.  So I wanted it to be presentable.  All those things I've wanted to do for a long time to make it the way I wanted it to be are finally getting done now.  I've been deep cleaning and purging so I can recuperate in peace without being anxious about things that need to be done.  Other than maintenance (which includes getting my family to actually clean up after themselves), my house is ready!

Discomfort.  Ugh.  Being pregnant brings about all kinds of weird and unexpected changes to your body.  And you spend so much time worrying if this is normal or something to worry about.  Should I call the doctor?  Do I need to go to the hospital?  Twinges.  Pain.  Swelling.   Cramping.  The one thing that's been nearly constant these last nine months is a cramping uterus - very like contractions only less come-and-go and more constant, like a Charlie horse.  It feels like I have a giant rock in my lower abdomen, very much like when I was about two months pregnant.  Uncomfortable to me, but not noticeable to anyone else.

And, because of my uterus being displaced, a more frequent need to pee.

An ultrasound as part of the diagnostic process.

Way too many pelvic exams.

Way more doctors visits than I'd like.

Deciding when and how to tell people.

Lots of people asking when my date is (surgery date as opposed to due date).

And when it's time I will go to the hospital and have a delivery of sorts and spend a night in the hospital while they monitor my bleeding and recovery.

I won't be bringing home a bundle of joy (but I also won't be gaining another lifelong responsibility).  There will be no naming of anything under any circumstances.

But hopefully, when all is said and done, I will experience the same joy and freedom and relief that comes after pregnancy when I feel like I finally have my body back the way it should be.  Fingers crossed!

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