1982-2013
Of all the articles I have written on varying subjects, I was asked by two people why I have never written one on my hysterectomy and the journey that led me to it. The journey, just brought tears to my eyes as my fingers played this keyboard—is defined by 31 years—and perhaps my mind just couldn’t handle the load. December of this year, will mark 5 years. 5 years since I had my Supracervical Hysterectomy with Right Oophorectomy (say that 3 times fast) and I stopped coping and started living.
I have another article started on the concept of synchronicity—a situation in which two or more things happen at the same time and seem to be connected even if they are not (macmillandictionary.com) and its properties. If you have ever been skeptical of the concept, perhaps this article will change your mind.
I had suffered for years with a condition diagnosed many decades later as menorrhagia. I had learned to “cope” with it as part of being a woman. It was 7 days out of every month, only 7, I can handle it. And handle it I did for 3 long decades. Until…a perfect storm started brewing. That perfect storm believe it or not was a position I started as the Recreation Coordinator at a Retirement Community. Little did I know that synchronicity would ultimately end up possibly saving my life. When I tell you that this particular Retirement Community takes their fitness seriously, I mean they take it S-E-R-I-O-U-S-L-Y! Before I knew it I was teaching up to 6 hrs of fitness classes a day. Within 3 months of working there my body dropped close to 20 lbs, part of the aforementioned perfect storm a brewing.
One day during my cycle I was about 10 minutes into my first fitness class of the day when the room started spinning. I stopped the class and went to make my way to my office to sit down. Don’t quote me on the exact yardage but I don’t believe I made it more than 3 yards when I had to grab the handrail and hold on for dear life. “Coincidentally” our staff BSN—Bedside Nurse was coming around the corner, saw me and from that point on I firmly believe saved my life—synchronicity.
The next few days and weeks went by in a blur, I remember her helping me make it upstairs to my office, putting the phone in my hand and feeding me the lines, verbatim to make “the” doctor’s appointment that would put me on the right path to end my years of coping. Fast forward the first line of defense they gave me was an IUD-intrauterine device. They had been known to stop heavy bleeding and I thought well this is minimally invasive, let’s give it a shot. I wish there were better words besides—Ugh to describe my experience with the IUD, but alas there are not. Less than 4 months later my IUD fell out as I was walking into of all places work and as part of the perfect storm, conditions only got worse!
I won’t go into graphic detail about the horrors I suffered at the hands of my IUD coming out but I will concisely tell you my iron levels dropped to almost nothing; my heart rhythms almost couldn’t handle the strain and as my Surgeon put his hand on mine and said as I was contemplating a hysterectomy: aren’t you tired yet? My body started sobbing, hunched over with his hand on my back just letting the tears flow with a patience I am still very grateful for to this day. 31 years, literally, in that moment, the years of the weight on me I decided I could no longer carry.
My surgery was scheduled and in the in-between times there were still a battery of tests that needed to be done. I was tested for an inherited blood disorder which two doctors could not agree that I carried and whether I do or not it is the first factor, the one you can live with. So I am living or not living with it depending on whose diagnosis is correct. Ultrasounds; internal exams and the list goes on. On my ultrasound they found a mass on my right ovary and decided the ovary has to go. Rest assured they tell me one ovary can do the job of two. So I wonder is the other just for show? 😉
Comes the magical day, surgery is a success. Pathology on the right ovary determined I had stage 3-4 endometriosis and I am informed that my youngest child existing is nothing short of a miracle and I should call him lefty because there is no way he could have come from my right ovary.
I am now 5 years post my life saving operation and my best bits of advice are as follows:
- Be your own best health advocate, fight for what you know is not correct in your own body. No-one knows you better than you do.
- Research; research and then research again and know the medical terminology and how it pertains to you.
- Search out support and know as special as we think we are, there are probably thousands of people who are going through or have gone through what you are. In my case they have been more than happy to at least talk to me and share their stories.
- Ask questions of your doctor and don’t just pick the one given to you. If my surgeon had not developed that trust with me right from the start, I am not sure where I would be today.
And lastly and not definitely least—stop coping and start living!
Kimberly
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