Reference To Hell With My Uterus - The BBQ Pit - Straight Dope Message Board
For those of you waiting on tenterhooks with baited breath, I have news to set you (and me) all atwitter. In ten short (long, fatiguing, never ending) days I will have my no-good uterus and ovaries yanked (delicately excised, peeled away from my bladder, snipped from it’s ligaments, and eased out my vagina by the DaVinci robot). Then stitches, being driven home by a friend, and banned from work or exertion for at least six weeks (more probably 8-10 as my job requires occasional heavy lifting and there is no such thing as light duty).
Let’s see, what have we been up to lately? Last month, two solid weeks (between periods) of constant grinding on it’s axis in my pelvis for no apparent reason other than to piss me off. No flow, no show. Random stabbings of pain from my ovaries to my crotch, similar to the “It’s just round ligament pain,” when I was pregnant, but lower in the pelvis.
This month, a constant, heavy rolling cramp that makes it hard to stand up straight (along with more intense lovely stabbings). Forget trying to walk normally or do anything normally, you must stay hunched over and move slowly, or the uterus will make you pay (by it performing high-flying acrobatics with flaming loops and swords, and with horses and elephants thundering around in circles. There’s probably jugglers and clowns in a mini-car zipping about in crazy patterns. They found a fibroid on my ultrasound, so now I have “a good reason” for it to be excavated.
I had to have a biopsy of the endometrium to prove there was no cancer. Apparently cancer cells meandering through your innards after surgery is bad juju. That was interesting (go through the cervix of my already unhappy system and just snip off a piece, you won’t hardly notice). Negative though, so that’s good
Forget sex, that was a different life. This thing is a jealous god(dess) who wants it all her way. Guess what? You are soon to be hystery! I’m going to take a crochet hook to give to my wonderful doctor, in case things get stuck. Now I only have to prepare my stand-in for two major events and the day-to-day BS, and myself for weeks of invalidity. I go about with a grim smile on my face, my uterus has an expiration date, HURRAH!
