Every day The Teacher remarks about all the hugs she gets from Max lately and how sweet it is and how glad she is that we all met and had those talks. I'm a cynic, so of course, I'm mentally thinking...Syndrome, Stockholm...but we're on the tail end of this semester so I figure we'll just cruise along the next few weeks. Max picked out what he'd like to get for The Teacher for a holiday gift. Gift cards, since I told him that the only acceptable gifts are gift cards or alcohol and we don't know her well enough to buy her alcohol. I left out the part about how I felt like she should be buying me a case of wine.
About a week back I found myself at my own doctor's office for my annual appointment. THAT doctor, not the general. I like my OB quite a bit although I know a lot of people don't care for her rather straightforward manner. She's not one to mince words.
I discovered that last year when she finished up, sat me up, and told me she felt a mass and it was probably in my uterus but it might be on my ovary and I needed to schedule an ultrasound to see where and I should just go ahead and do that on the way out.
I was relatively calm to my doctor. It was the scheduler I threatened.
Five days later, we found the fibroid, neatly tucked into my uterus, with my ovaries innocently behaving themselves (knowing I got a little gaspy at the mention of "ovary" and "mass" in the same sentence she made a point of finding them both for me...I had forgotten how much that hurts).
Fast forward a year, and riddle me this: last year I had to wait five days for the ultrasound; this year they just popped me over to the special room.
I had been warned to expect the thing to grow. It amused me really, because it was like a race. The fibroid would grow a little until I hit menopause and then it will shrink. How big will it get until then?
The goddamn thing doubled in a year. Doubled!
It's not causing me any problems at the moment except that now I look suspiciously at my abdomen a lot because...doubled! And it wasn't that small last year! It's sort of softball-ish now and I'm afraid of what will happen by next year. And I blanched when she told me I probably have a good eleven years until menopause.
She can take it out, but she'll do a hysterectomy, and suddenly I'm feeling very protective of the parts. I had such a love/hate relationship with everything during the infertility years. I mean, everything always seemed to be in working order, both a blessing (hurrah, it works!) and a curse (why the hell am I not getting pregnant????), but when called to action, the uterus performed valiantly. I feel like it has earned its anatomical place.
Still, doubled.
Side note of interest: she told me about this new technique for the hysterectomy that will have me up and about in one to three weeks. Have you ever tried to keep a dog quiet twelve hours after a spay? Seriously. Dogs are the superior species.
My mother had a hysterectomy transvaginally (I guess they just kind of hooked it and manhandled it out). She was in the hospital about a day and playing tennis within a week (which was probably a little too much activity, but she said she felt fine...she just kept spotting).
Why can't the doctor just remove the fibroid and leave the uterus in place and intact (like a myomectomy, are you not a candidate?)? Or maybe blast it away with fricken' laser beams....because that would be awesome.
I'd love to know which store Max chose as the gift for Teacher. Maybe I can have Chuckles copy it (I'm leaning towards Target for the teacher).
Posted by: SarcastiCarrie | November 22, 2011 at 07:52 AM
Heh heh - reminds me of the photos my OB showed me after my tubal: "If you ever need a hysterectomy [with your anatomy] it'll be a cinch to do through a colpotomy!"
But seriously, a couple of my riding buddies have had their HE's & were almost immediately questioning WHY on EARTH they waited so long?!? (Rapid recoveries, back in the saddle after 6 - 8 wks) Get her outta there if you're done w/your reproducin'!
Posted by: Val | November 29, 2011 at 01:23 PM