It amazes me the amount of thoughts running through my head as I approach my surgery next week. For those that don't know, I am having a laparoscopic hysterectomy where the doctors are currently planning on taking out my uterus, my cervix and my Fallopian tubes, but want to leave me with my ovaries. The ovary piece may change based on a cyst that had been present, so I won't know what happened until the surgery is over. I'm also having a mesh sling inserted.
I've done my due diligence and researched, and researched, and researched some more. I've gone to reputable sites like the Mayo clinic, I've messaged my gyno, my PCP and talked with friends in the medical field, and then joined group pages on Facebook. The Facebook pages scare me far more than the Mayo clinic pages or my doctors advice or even friends info scare me. I've heard recovery times that take upwards of 12 weeks, while some women are up and around after two. I've heard that some are getting by on Advil, while others are taking their fair share of opioid's. I've heard of women being able to take off eight weeks of work and others that are back at it two weeks post-op.
My husband and boys are troopers. They have endured shortened road trips because we had to stop and find a bathroom. They have witnessed me at the dining room table one minute, then running up the stairs next to take care of business. They have watched me lay down with a heating pad, then ice, then heat again. They (usually the hubs), had to stop, time and time again at Walgreens, or CVS, or Walmart, so I could stock up on feminine products. If I knew 18 months ago what I know now, I should have bought stock in Playtex or Kotex.
Both our boys were born by C-Section, 24 and 20 years ago. I was convinced neither of them were ever coming out of my body. My water never broke, I never dilated, and I never went into labor. Our oldest stayed an extra 13 days...the younger one we scheduled three days after his due date. Incidentally, they were both born on a Tuesday. Why Tuesday? It was ingrained in mine and my husbands heads that the best cars are built on Tuesday's...so if it works for cars, maybe it would work for kids.
This road that I am on started in April, 2017 when I had my first long-time period. Months of bleeding, biopsies and a D&C later, everything slowed down last November, and then came back with a vengeance in December. I don't doubt my lack of sleep, my lack of focus, and all around tiredness comes from being borderline anemic. Years ago, way back when we knew weren't having more children, I told my husband I just wanted everything to be scooped out. Like literally take an ice cream scoop and get rid of it. We took the easy road out and he got the knife.
My thoughts lately run to wondering how I'm going to get everything done at work and still ensure that I have a job when I get back (I've only been here shy of two months, no benefits yet, no FMLA), to why didn't I wash our youngest son's college bedding when he got home in May instead of relying on the fact that he said he washed it. Thankfully, my husband, even though he is fighting his own injury now, has been there to pick up the slack. I've been making lists of things that need to get done in the now three full days I have before I go under the knife. The laundry is almost done, grocery shopping will be done on Sunday, helping the oldest with a project for grad school, a quick trip to the cottage to cut the grass, ordering of college textbooks for the youngest, making sure FAFSA is in order, remembering to drink up some Metamucil and wondering how our dogs will react when I'm gone overnight and come back a completely different woman.
Will I be different though? I don't think I will be. I was hoping that everything they are taking out would be like 20 pounds so I could kick start some weight loss...but I'd venture to guess that isn't the case. Years ago an older female relative that will remain nameless (RIP), told me at a Mother's Day celebration after our youngest was born, that I wasn't really a mother because I didn't give birth naturally. I was completely and utterly mortified. Everyone stopped talking, mouths agape. There may have even been a shudder and gasp. I was was holding our youngest, grabbed our oldest and told my husband to get my shit and get in the truck, we were leaving.
Regardless of how your children are born - naturally, via C Section, through a surrogate, through adoption, or even if you have never had a child, nor wanted a child, our lady bits are all the same. Some do what they are supposed to do, and women make it through their lives with no complications. Some are dysfunctional and riddled with cancer and need to be removed immediately. Some, like mine aren't functioning properly, and after many tests, and even more procedures, my doctor finally recommended that they come out.
Monday is going to come up fast. I just want the surgery done, so we can all get on with our lives.
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