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.

Numbers Have Genders

Well, they do when it comes to test results.

The health management organization to which I belong lets me log on to their portal and see all of my test results. For this data gal, that's like being given the keys to the candy store! While some candies are sweet, others are tart, and still others leave a downright bitter taste in your mouth.

I was looking through the list of my pre-op labs, and noticed that the results of a test for my Kidney function, 51, fell into the mild to moderate Kidney damage zone. I decided that, although I could panic, I wouldn't, at least, not yet. Because, I got people in high places with all sorts of esoteric knowledge. I sent my buddy, who just so happens to be a practicing Nephrologist, aka Kidney doctor, a hey, "is this bad?" text. I figured that she'd set me on the path to calm or drop-kick me to the fast track to panic, accordingly.

Her initial response of "eGFR usually underestimates renal function in women" was both calming and disturbing. Calming because I took that to mean that the results, couple with my creatinine values, were okay for me, because I'm a woman. Disturbing because why wasn't the fact that I'm a woman reflected in the results? Why wasn't I given results based on my biology? How many other tests have results scaled for men but not women, and how is this male-focused scaling affecting the quality of healthcare women receive?

While the above questions go far beyond the scope of a personal health blog focused on PCOS, Insulin Resistance, Hursuitism, and the host of symptomology I've mentioned throughout many of my topics, those very questions cause me concern as to the confidence the medical profession truly has when it comes to treating women in general, and me specifically. I admit that my looming hysterectomy, which takes place on Monday, is causing me not a little angst; but maybe, some of that angst wouldn't exist if things like tests and their results were based on my biology versus that of some other sex.

With today's technology, it's a pretty simple thing to check a box to filter results by sex. Why is the medical profession lagging so far behind in gathering, standardizing, utilizing, and reporting sex-based tests?

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?

It's Been Scheduled

I saw my OB/GYN last week, who took a few tests which came back normal, and today the office called to scheduled my hysterectomy. Yay! We're yanking the unnecessary organs out in early February.

Short update, life is hectic with the holidays. I plan to post more after the new year.

Wishing everyone a lovely holiday season, and a joyous and prosperous new year!