I've Been Spayed

Once I made the decision, it was easy to schedule the surgery. I chose the traditional method rather than the laparoscopic, because the procedure was a shorter duration, and I had already decided whom I wanted as my surgeon. 

The hospital and staff treated me well from the moment I was admitted. The prep part went smoothly, and I was under sedation quickly and easily. Then I woke up. I chatted and joked with the nurse, who was administering morphine to keep my pain levels manageable. Pain was okay with the meds, as long as I didn't laugh or breathe too deeply. I had no sense of time, so I'm not sure how long I stayed in the recovery room. At some point, I was transferred to the room in which I'd stay the next two nights. I didn't like the moving part, especially when the gurney went over thresholds. I'm not going to sugar coat it, it hurt like hell, with a side of barbed wire. The gentleman who was stuck with transporting me felt awful for torturing me, and gave me time after crossing each of the nine threshold to breath through the pain.

My nurses were outstanding.  I was up and walking in no time, and they were with me every step of the way. I was given lots of advice before surgery, and I want to share the hints and tricks that worked best for me. The best advice was to suck it up, and stretch out. Don't give in to clutching a pillow to your tummy. When it's time to walk, stand up straight and breathe through the pain.  I took the "suck it up" advice, and I know the intensity and duration of pain was greatly reduced because of it. Essentially, it's like ripping off a band aid. You can go slowly, and prolong the pain, or you can rip it off and get it over with. I chose the latter.

Things I enjoyed doing before surgery were unpleasant for a while after surgery. Laughing, taking deep, cleansing breaths, going from laying down to sitting to standing, and vice versa. Each day, the pain lessened and it wasn't long before I was driving. I am not ashamed to sat how painful navigating speed bumps were. Yes, I drove slowly and cautiously in general, and I crawled over speed bumps in particular. I loved being mobile, but I was careful to follow another piece of advice: don't do too much too quickly. I was (mostly) pretty careful about not overdoing it.

I was struck with a stark reality about 1/2 through my recovery: there's an empty spot in my body cavity. I felt all sorts of things, depression, fear, and incomplete, for a while. I was expecting it, so I knew what these feeling were when they crashed over me. I was worried for a while that I wouldn't be able to enjoy an active sex life as I had before. I was afraid that I had mutilated my body and would no long experience orgasm as I once did. I can assure you, that fear is groundless. My missing parts and pieces do not in any way reduce my sexual appetite or the ability to experience pleasure.

There are a lot of articles and information out on the interwebs, but I'm not going to link to any of them, as I didn't find the concerns they raised either true or helpful. My hysterectomy experience went well, and I achieved the desired results: I no longer have uterine pain from fibroids.

I take a daily estrogen supplement, and I am free of menopausal symptoms. All in all, I consider my hysterectomy a success.

Clawing out of Depression's Grip

Not long ago, depression had me in its insidious grip, squeezing every shred of self confidence with which I manage to shroud myself. Clawing and writhing my way out of its clutches leaves me first pondering how I found myself there in the first place, and then tending to the wounds it inflicted. These wounds, some of them merely scratches that will heal quickly; others deeper with darkening bruises, which will turn to sickening green (how I feel about them, and sometimes me), and then fade completely.

With the significant changes I've made in my diet and the increase in exercise, I definitely experience fewer depressive states. When I do have them, it seems that they are still intense and I still feel anxious, but I think that the anxiety is a result of the tachycardia I experience during the luteal phase of my cycle, which is also when I tend to succumb to depression.

After my hysterectomy in another couple of weeks, I won't have ovaries, ergo, no luteal phase. So, might it be possible that without the surge of progesterone and testosterone, I will no longer experience tachycardia? Without the tachycardia, will I no longer have that feeling of anxiety? I don't think that my depression will be eliminated completely, but wouldn't it be lovely if it were simply a shadow skittering across my mental landscape rather than the monster I described above?

Symptomology 101

Throughout these posts, I have mentioned symptoms and associated many of those symptoms with possible root causes. I've made dramatic lifestyle changes and I'm experiencing either a resolution of or a decrease in the intensity of my symptoms.

I call that success!

I decided to take a moment to celebrate my successes and speculate on which life change may have contributed to the improvement of symptoms.

Acne
Significant changes in not only what I eat, but when and how much I eat have contributed to completely clearing up acne breakouts. I'm positive that going dairy free, and eliminating potatoes, rice, and white flour, have contributed to eliminating this particular malady.

Excessive Sweating
While I haven't found the off switch for this lovely symptom, it is greatly reduced. I've noticed that the onset is usually when my blood sugar levels are high that I'm particularly susceptible to sweating. Further, when I'm exercising my sweating is within acceptable limits, so long as I drink plenty of water before, during, and after an activity. I'm fairly sure that eliminating caffeine and drinking buckets of water have been key to alleviating this fun symptom.

Assorted
Some of the following symptoms I know are addressed by using a CPAP. Others depend on my blood sugar levels, amount of daily excercise, and my stress levels. Still, significant improvements overall.

• Anxiety reduced
• Depression reduced
• Daytime fatigue reduced
• Forgetfulness reduced
• Lack of energy during the day reduced
• Loud snoring gone!
• Mood changes reduced
• Morning headaches reduced
• Sleepiness reduced
• Slower reaction time reduced
• Restless sleep reduced
• Recurrent awakenings reduced
• Insomnia reduced
• Vision problems reduced
• Waking up with a very sore or dry throat gone!
• Waking up with a choking or gasping sensation gone!

Related Links

• How lifestyle, daily routine affect blood sugar
• Patient information: Diabetes mellitus type 2: Alcohol, exercise, and medical care (Beyond the Basics)
• Pre-Diabetes&Lifestyle Changes to Prevent Type 2 Diabetes

From Infertility to Family

I always knew I'd be a mom. By the time I was 19, adoption was part of my life plan. I didn't know if I'd be married or not, although I'd hoped that I'd find a partner to share my life with. No matter what, I was going to be a parent.

Little did I know that fertility could be such a fickle thing. 

I remember the joy, anticipation, and excitement that coursed through my veins when the pregnancy test showed positive for the first time. Yep, as I'd planned, just a couple years after marrying my husband, I was pregnant. By the tenth week, I was thinking about possible colleges that might be suitable for the genius who had taken up residency in my uterus. What might this child major in, I wondered. Math? Science? Theater? We had great conversations together, one sided, but nevertheless deeply moving and meaningful. Not a week after these dialogues began, I miscarried. 

I was devastated. 

I didn't "miscarry," I lost a baby, a new love, a friend who I couldn't wait to meet, and never would. I lost three more babies over the next couple of years, and while they were all heartbreaking, none came close to the severe and overwhelming shock and grief I experienced at losing my first baby.

And then, I couldn't get pregnant again. Lots of false positives, which was confusing and distressing. Clearly, there was something wrong with me. Time to hook up with a fertility expert and get this thing figured out. 

Such optimism.

I went to a fertility specialist, because that made sense, right? He put me on a few rounds of Clomid. Now there's a med for you. The hot flashes, the mood swings... and that was just on my husband's part! It was worth it, because I got pregnant. Yay! No more tetemperature charts, no more timing sex, no more chasing my husband down the hall wailing, "come on, hunny! I'm fertile! Please? I'll let you be Little Bo Peep this tiiiiime!" Kidding, mostly, lil bit, not much. 

A few weeks after the positive pregnancy test proclaimed positive, I spotted and lost the baby. 

I switched to a fertility clinic and did several rounds of IUF. Let's just say that we reached the end of our fertility budget. We took a break from all things baby making, except for the fun part, of course. After we took some time to grieve and heal, we moved forward with our adoption plans. 

In a miracle as only Christmas can package, a precious, amazing toddler with dreamy blue eyes came to live with us. There is no doubt in my mind that she's ours, completely and utterly meant to be our daughter.  

Six weeks later, I was pregnant. 

In the majesty of autumn, a strapping baby boy was born with blue eyes, blond hair, and a beguiling smile. 

Two years after that? You guessed it, preggo again. 

Amidst the fragrant blossoms of spring, a blond haired, blue-eyed charmer was born. 

To say I was busy with a baby, a 2-year old, and a 3-year old would be an understatement. 

It wasn't a smooth journey to parenthood, or easy for that matter. However, my dreams of family did come true. 

Agnsty, Not Only for Poets and Teens

I love that word. When I looked it up, I found this definition in the Urban dictionary:

Generally it involves the feeling of not being understood by anyone and that the person is alone in the world.

The Merriam-Webster free online dictionary has this nugget:

feeling, showing, or expressing anxiety, apprehension, or insecurity

My teens are in the former group, which makes total sense, because, well, they're teens. I'm in the latter group, my guess is because I'm neither a poet nor a teen (although there are times when I act like one). Anxiety and its cohort, depression, have been my companions for quite some time. Probably about the time I started infertility treatments. (I am blessed with three amazing kids. More on that story, later.) However, anxiety and depression have been particularly present in the last few years. Probably about the time insulin resistance reared its ugly head, unbeknownst to me. The good news is, now things make sense in ways that baffled me before. The bad news is, I must take better care of myself. I mean, you know, like put myself first sometimes. How bad can that be?

I'm curious, though. How much of my anxiety and depression are health related? As I ease into a healthier lifestyle and continue to put myself first in positive ways, will my depression and anxiety lessen? Will I be in a position where I can cut back on my "happy pills?" These are questions I hope I'll have answers (in the affirmative) to in the near future. It looks like, by continuing down the path of eating healthy and exercising, I could very well reverse insulin resistance and its unsavory symptoms in about a years time. I tend to be a rather goal-oriented individual, so of course I'm writing the goal of eliminating the whole prediabetes thing in gold letters on my bucket list.

I have found that sleeping better, thanks to the CPAP machine, has improved my over-all state of being. I'm positive that exercise is also responsible for helping smooth out my rough edges. Therefore, it must be possible that eating well, and managing or eliminating the massive levels of insulin wrecking havoc on my body, may very well contribute to reducing my angsty depression, as well.

That's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

Related Links

• Serum androgens and depression in women with facial hirsutism.
• Severity of depression and anxiety in obstructive sleep apnea syndrome
• What's the connection between diabetes and depression?

Sleep, Perchance to Rest

I can't think of many people who want to climb out of their cozy beds first thing in the morning. Getting out of bed after a sleepless night makes that climb even more arduous. I'm going to pass the explanation of what happens to your brain after a sleepless night to a couple of my favorite pseudo-scientists from The Big Bang Theory:

Bernadette: Okay, Sheldon. What happens to our neuroreceptors when we don't get enough REM sleep? 
Sheldon: They lose their sensitivity to serotonin and norepinephrine.
Bernadette: Which leads to...?
Sheldon: Impaired cognitive function. 

Now imagine both the Herculean effort it takes and what it does to cognitive function when those sleepless nights happen every night over the course of years, or even decades. Welcome to my world. 

The good news is, there's a label for this particular malady: Sleep Apnea. Better news is that it's treatable. Other news is that it's pretty common. Bad news is, it's challenging to diagnose.

There are lists out there in the interwebs that detail all of the symptoms and causes of sleep apnea. My sleep apnea symptoms include:

• Daytime fatigue
• Forgetfulness
• Lack of energy during the day
• Loud snoring (impressively loud!)
• Mood changes
• Morning headaches
• Sleepiness 
  
• Slower reaction time
• Restless sleep
• Recurrent awakenings 
• Insomnia
• Unexplained weight gain
• Vision problems
• Waking up with a very sore or dry throat
• Waking up with a choking or gasping sensation (this one scares the heck outta me)

Not getting enough sleep can lead to a boat load of problems. 

Next topic in the Sleep Apnea series: A Breath of Fresh Air

Related Links

• American Sleep Apnea Association
• American Thoracic Society
• National Institutes of Health

Name that Syndrome

I'm waiting for the result labs to confirm my suspicions. During my wait I've been reading up on everything Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS) related. Yup, all signs point to that loveliest of all female, hormone-related disorders. 

In a word, it sucks.With a capital Uck.

There is much out there on the interwebs discussing all things PCOS. From symptoms, to lab work, to current medicine practices. I spent the last couple of weeks scouring the medical sites and various forums and blogs looking for information. I think that I really wanted to just find the thing that said "THIS!' Which I would do, and then all of my symptoms would miraculously disappear and I would be healthy. End of story. 

Try as hard as I did, I couldn't find anything that looked remotely like the THIS thing. What I did find is that there are a lot of women who have PCOS. Further, many of these ladies blog about their journeys, documenting their symptoms, doctors visits, test results, pain, and courage. Pages and pages filled with stories that are so different from my own, yet remarkably identical. That's the weird part. I, too, feel the need to share my story. I'm hoping that the more stories there are out there, the easier it will be to spot and aggregate the disparate symptoms for any women seeking relief from theirs. 

Honestly, the symptoms range from embarrassing to humiliating, to downright scary. Seen individually, each and every symptom can be swept under the "oh, it's just stress" carpet, except for the few that can be swept into the "it's genetics, just look at your mom" pile in the corner. When others dismiss your symptoms that makes it easier to dismiss them yourself. And I did, mostly, despite the tiny, nagging voice in the back of my head that insisted that something bigger was wrong. Frankly, I didn't want to be a hypochondriac. So, I silenced that nagging voice, pasted a smile on my face, and presented to the world the happy, positive facade that serves me well. 

Soren Kierkegaard said that "Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards." In understanding PCOS and how it relates to me and my experiences, that quote is spot on. Let me show you what I mean, read on...