Bless My Heart

the improvement of a southern girl


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Words from the hospital bed

Well, I just lost my whole post that I just typed out with an IV stuck in my hand. So this one will be shorter 😦

I am in my second day of recovery after having a supracervical hysterectomy. The cyst had the ovary twisted down and behind my uterus. It was all (to spare you the ugly details) “messy” in there. My doctor got the general surgeon to oversee the operation because the mess was all dangerously close to my bowels. The procedure ended up being about two hours long. Apparently I made it a fun morning for Dr. Wilson.

Yesterday was horrible. I was in severe pain that was not alleviated by the morphine pump, at all. By the early afternoon I asked for something extra and that helped a little. I slept well enough and having a much better day today.

I appreciate the friends that have checked on me and the family that is helping out with the girls, but I couldn’t have done it without this guy. I snapped a photo of him when he wasn’t looking.

This guy has bent over backwards for me these past few days. Helping me in and out of bed, retrieving this and that from around the room, sleeping in that little Lazyboy chair last night without complaint, and helping me with the shower this afternoon. I am thankful, beyond measure, for having this man to share with me in moments of ultimate joy… and these moments of humility and immense pain.

My first meal of solid foods just arrived, so I am going to go enjoy my supper. And then probably sleep. And sleep some more 🙂 I’m here till tomorrow afternoon. GRMC room 242, if you are looking for something to do 😉


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Recovery

Hanging out in the hospital today. My surgery went well yesterday morning, but a little more complicated than anticipated. What we thought was going to be one big cyst to remove, turned into a big cyst and a lot of other endometrium. Looks like I’ve just been diagnosed with endometriosis. Basically, endometriosis is a female health disorder that occurs when cells from the lining of the womb (uterus) grow in other areas of the body.(source)

Without going into a lot of detail, let’s just say that my insides were a complete mess, and the Doc had to work a lot more than expected. He actually said he had to make himself stop at some point because of an increasing risk of creating a bleeder that would force him to remove my uterus.
Good news is that most of it is removed, and there is no threat of cancer. Bad news is, he said we have a 4-6 month window to try and get pregnant naturally. Then, it’s either fertility specialist, or to go ahead with the inevitable now- a hysterectomy.

The Man and I have lots of important decisions to make now. Please continue to pray for healing and wisdom as we are seemingly just beginning this chapter of our lives.

FYI: I should be discharged this evening if all goes well.

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Bless MY Heart….

I really never intended this blog to be a way to chronicle my tribulations and illnesses, but to be a log of my journey to my “ideal” life. The one I see inside my head and inside my heart.

I’m getting there. Just not the way I intended.

Soo………  my last post was rather vague, but I was going through something that is not necessarily – well – socially acceptable as an answer to “How you doing, Juli?”, I guess you could say.

–“Good morning, Juli! How are you doing?”–

— “Oh, nothing much. Just had a miscarriage this weekend and now I’m back at work when all I want to do is lay in bed and wallow in grief. How are you?”—

Nobody wants to have that conversation. Not really. Because then, things get REAL. And so many of us are afraid of anything REAL. Keep smiling and ignore it and maybe it’ll go away. It doesn’t, by the way… go away. It will just fester.

So yeah, I had a miscarriage last month. We have been trying and trying and trying and then we were pregnant. Two positive pregnancies tests. Excitement. Nervousness. Slight freakouts and a bunch of happy smiles. I want another baby. The Man wants another baby. We like babies. We like being parents. I even have pictures of my positive pregnancy tests on my computer. I was saving them for a big blog post.

The Man told me to wait. Not to tell anyone. We should wait a while. We are older. You never know.

I lost the baby at 5 weeks. I was with my band at a football game. I was dying inside, but BY GOD, DON’T TELL ANYBODY. People don’t talk about such things.

Screw that. But yet, I stayed relatively quiet.

Enter the lump in my belly. I started noticing it a few weeks before my positive test. I wistfully thought it was a growing uterus (even though that didn’t happen for the first two). After I miscarried, it was still there. Weeks went by, it was still there. Especially noticeable in the morning as I woke up. My full bladder pushing up whatever it was so that it changed the shape of my figure. A hard lump. It is increasingly painful. Like right now. Yeah, it hurts.

I made an appointment with my ob/gyn. I had already made one for my positive pregnancy test, but after the loss, I called and cancelled it, talking with the nurse over miscarriage details. I told them I didn’t know if it was something residual from the loss, or maybe I had a fibroid growing. We have a family history of fibroids. It was my best guess.

My appointment was yesterday. I had to take the day off since it was midday appointment. I was expecting him to say I had a fibroid and us schedule a treatment. Or maybe for him to find nothing and call me crazy. I drank a bunch of water on the way there so my bladder would push it up like it does in the morning. I didn’t want to be called crazy.

So there I was waiting on the table with my “blanket”, or what should be called “huge cheap napkin”, covering my lower naked half. My bladder is full and I need to pee, like I do every 20 minutes, because whatever is inside of me is pushing on my bladder and taking up too much space. I wait. He enters. He feels my abdomen, right bellow my belly button. “Well, something is definitely there”. Yes, I’m not crazy. “Let’s take a look with the ultrasound”.

2 seconds pass. “Yeah, you have something in there.”

It’s not a fibroid. It’s a cyst. On my right ovary. It’s huge. 10.6 cm huge. Grapefruit huge. It’s pushing everything around and taking me over.

Look at my fluid-baby. I’m not so very proud.

He tells me we need to get it out of there before things get complicated. It can rupture. It can twist off the blood supply to my ovary. It can cause lots of pain. Yeah. Let’s get it out.

Monday.

By a laparotomy (C-section cut).

I’ll be out of commission for 3 weeks. Full recovery period of 6 weeks.

Well holy shit.

He will try to save my ovary if at all possible. Probably not. I should be left with one ovary and a working uterus, though, so I am still planning on making another blonde beauty at some point. They will send the cyst to test for cancer. He says the chances of that are low. Pray.

So there I am. Here I am. I have two school days to get my classes in order. Find a substitute. Four days to clean my house enough so that it can sustain itself for weeks until I can get on my feet again. What about my Christmas concert? My poor students. I keep failing them. My poor husband that will have to carry my load. My poor sweet girls that I will not be able to hold up in my arms.

I am a 33 year old worn out bag of bones.

But also, I am not.

I am still that woman on a journey to her “ideal life”, as I stated in the beginning of this post. I see myself on the other side. I see myself in my head, the way I have always wanted to be.

I am greater than the sparrow…..   Luke 12:7

I have wings of an eagle…..  Isaiah 40:31

I am the phoenix that rises from the ashes.

The Sparrow. The Eagle. The Phoenix. I see a tattoo in my future 😉