Let’s Talk About Surgery….

Well, here we are…  We’re pulling up on seven weeks post-op….  And what a trip it has been…  There has been fear, terror, relief, worry, anger, acceptance… and now a mild sort of depression is setting in.

This whole process has been a huge learning experience…  a million mile an hour roller coaster ride… a total loss of control of my life and my day-to-day…

It has been humbling, humiliating, and outright exhausting….

The bitch of it all?  It’s not over yet.

My life has been turned on its ass…  My daughter’s life is upside down…. we’re relying on the kindness of friends, family, neighbours, and my ex husband to get us through.

Thankfully so many great people in our lives have stepped up to help us out with everything from cutting the lawn, to doing groceries every week, to helping keep the house clean, to helping with large loads of laundry, to helping Wee get to piano class, to helping me get to my appointments, to….  well, everything.  We’ve needed help with EVERYTHING.

That is getting better.  I am getting stronger.  But I’m still on no lift, push, pull orders.  No swimming, no baths, lots of rest.

Shit.  Still.

Truly, honestly….  I spend every day wishing there had been an option B…  that my body didn’t have to have the massive procedures that it had to have….  that me and my lady bits had been healthy and happy coexisting as one being….

I wish there had been an option B; I would have taken it in a heartbeat.

Instead I was stuck with this bullshit….  with half of the information on what the future would hold…. with half of the information on what could possibly happen….  Because we all assumed that I was young, and strong, and healthy, and everything was going to go tickity-boo.

I should have known better.  I know my body.  I know that if there’s a way to be an asshole, my body will find it and take it.

And it has…  at every turn.

Everything from infections to blood pooling to post-surgical menopause to post-surgical low hemoglobin and low blood pressure that wasn’t recovering on its own….

If it could go wrong, it has.

So wrong in fact that at my next recheck, my surgeon and I are going to have to have a very long talk… well, I will talk and he will listen…  And then I will let him talk….  but we’re going to talk… about one final procedure.

I have to get fixed.  I have to get my life back.  I have to be normal.

I’m screaming up on forty…  I’m not sixty…  I’m not seventy…  I AM NOT going to consider this bullshit that I’m currently living with ‘normal’.

No.  He will fix this.

So, that means I will go through a lot of the same bullshit….  The feeling like my lady bits have been attacked by a hand mixer… The exhaustion…  The post-surgical recovery….  I’ll go through it all again…  Because I will have my life back.

Let me tell you friends….  If a doctor EVER says to you ‘hysterectomy’…  Make sure there is no option B….  Make sure that’s the only choice you have…  And if there is an option B… take it and run with it for as long as your body will allow.

Don’t put yourself and your family through this unless you HAVE TO.  Let me tell you, there is nothing ROUTINE about this procedure.  It is a soul-draining, life-altering, dignity-stealing procedure that will leave you feeling helpless, useless, and hopeless for at least six weeks.  Six weeks.  And that’s if everything goes well.  If your recovery is routine and there are no complications…  6 weeks before you can think about resuming your life.

BUT WAIT, there’s more!

On top of that six weeks of recovery, recovery that will leave you exhausted, frustrated, needing to have everything that you took for granted done for you….  Six weeks where you will have to humble yourself and ask for help at every turn….  Six weeks where the days will slide into weeks…  sometimes without notice by you because of the pain medication you’re on….  Six weeks where even putting your socks on requires a two hour nap…  And forget a trip to the grocery store…  That shit’ll require a day on the couch to recover from….

On top of that, there will be at least six MONTHS where your body just won’t feel right… you’ll be exhausted…  ALL OF THE TIME.  Sleep will be a constant friend… you won’t be able to get enough of it…  You’ll sit your ass down somewhere and before you know it someone will be shaking you awake or throwing a blanket on you so that you can just sleep…  Getting through a day without a nap will be a feat…

I’ve been told I’m lucky…  I’m going through this bullshit in the nice weather when our energy is naturally at the highest….  I’ve been told that those who go through it in the winter essentially hibernate until spring….

Great….  I found something that’s going right anyway…  I’m wasting my fucking summer getting my body put back together…  I’m sure my daughter is feeling so fucking lucky right now.

Actually, she is very lucky in all of this…  Her dad has been amazing in more ways than one…  I honestly can’t thank him enough for all that he has done for us!  Melissa and Jon have been great about having my Wee over for a sleepover or even just an afternoon of fun with their daughter who is my daughter’s BEST FRIEND EVER!!!!  And Rob and Nikki have been AMAZING with all of the help and even with just letting us hang out in their yard with them so that the kids can play and my little one doesn’t get bored or lonely or feel the weight of everything that I’m going through…  And Rob has promised that if I do end up laid up most of the summer, they’ll help me to make sure it’s still a fun summer for my Wee….

I just wish Wee didn’t have to be so brave and so strong and so fearless through everything…  I wish there was a quick fix for me so that Wee and I could get back to our lives…  I wish we never had to come up with plans and routines to cover even the most mundane chores to make them possible for me to tackle…

I wish my body hated me less.