Three days ago I had a total laparoscopic hysterectomy. I am doing well and moving slowly. I am so grateful for so much! Prior to that surgery, I’d not really had many surgeries, and certainly not in the last decade or two. I was impressed by the process and the care I received, and feel really excited to have that part of my life over with. I was mildly afraid of not waking up, but not really…I assumed I would be okay.
I found two ironic bits on the interwebs the morning after; one was a couple pictures by one of my favourite comic series, introducing the new character: “the Uterus”. And one was a big old heading that read “No Uterus, No Opinion!” Hahaha. Well, I now have no uterus and believe me, I still have opinions.
The whole process took about a year and a half. I got referred to a gynecologist, I got put in line for an MRI, I met the gynecologist and I got a surgery scheduled; in that order but months apart (and the time would have passed anyway). I felt relieved and happy to have access to this care. I have a month off work to recover and we paid for parking at the hospital, but otherwise nothing! People who say Canadian healthcare is broken are sadly mistaken. Yes, it took a little while but I paid nothing out of pocket, I got this help and surgery and didn’t have to go bankrupt or co-pay or whatever other options there are out there for people. I feel very fortunate.
Why get rid of my used up baby bag? Well, that was something that made me feel a bit guilty. I had a condition called endometrial hyperplasia, adenomyosis and several cysts and cystic pockets throughout. Basically, not horrible; heavy bleeding and that old gal had become Thick! I was packing a heavy heart-shaped-box that wasn’t necessarily problematic but not not problematic. However, I felt some semblance of guilt because I know there are ladies who not only lack healthcare in general, there are those who have severe pain, never-ending periods, horrible symptoms; fibroids and endometriosis. I felt like I was cheating the system by being granted a procedure that wasn’t necessarily “necessary” and one that would allow me to live the rest of my life period free and not have to wait for the body systems to retire beforehand. But I think that I have a burden of empathy that reminds me constantly that things could be worse, and that I am privileged, so that’s probably a good and grounding thing about me.
So this topic is obviously a bit squirmy but I figured I’d share in case one was curious or considering such a thing in their future. I am obviously fresh and have no idea what the next few weeks will look like but here’s my hot take for the first few days. A surgery “yelp review” if I may; a “5 stars, would recommend”!
If you’ve had a baby, and especially a c-section, you’ve been through worse. Its similar but not quite it. Actually, while I was building a puzzle yesterday and having a nap, I realized that I had this discomfort but no infant (and/or toddler) to care for. How the hell do we manage that!? So far, being home, the hardest days seem done (famous last words? I hope not.) The worst is getting up and down, or in and out of bed. Your core does a lot! It’s shocking to not be able to roll over, but it has been short lived and I am moving slowly but able roll off the side of the bed with near dancer like grace…assuming the dancer is a baby giraffe learning to walk, but mobile none the less.
The surgery is day surgery. I, as per usual, assumed the best and was like “we should be home by 3pm”…we were home by 7pm. Overall I was in hospital around 10 or 11 hours and I’m assuming that’s long. I have a sense that I’m a tad wimpy and maybe some other ladies are up and having their obligatory pee before I was able to do. We checked in at 7:30am. I was immediately given a gown and bed and waited. Blood work. IV insertion. (I had to bring pee for a pregnancy test and was able to use a line I will never get to use again, and happily tell the nurse “Here! I brought you pee!” don’t say I never got you anything). I had to fast since the night before.
I discovered that my boyfriend was not only squeamish with his own blood, he’s not great with others blood either, and he had to vacate from the blood stuff, and I somehow felt the need to make the poor taste joke “good thing I had my babies with someone else!” to the nurse. She was like, “I wondered how he ever watched births!” ….he didn’t (although, recently he was tricked into watching a birth video by his co-worker and I find that hilarious and horrific).
Anywhoo, I was wheeled to surgery around 11am, and might I add; that I had two female anesthesiologists and a female surgeon with all my female nurses! Very awesome. I laid down and woke up in recovery who knows how long later. Pretty sure the surgery is around 2 hours. I came to in some pain and very disoriented but not nauseous (as I’d feared) and saw my sweetheart sitting next to me. I was thirsty and tired. I hoped to be high and pain free, but I was not. Ok, I was probably high. Similar to childbirth, they want you to be able to pee on your own before they let you leave. Pooping is a whole other story and we’ll not get into that except to say….that may be a while away but allows for many sweet constipation jokes in the following days! I’ve been very happy about some of my laxative jokes and will also thank this surgery for the opportunity.
I would say you do need a care taker. I defiantly needed someone to take me home, get me in bed and out and help with general care. And, again, how the hell did I ever do this with an infant and/or infant and a toddler!!?? It’s unreal, ladies, and we are fucking amazing! Despite the jokes about him not being able to handle intravenous blood collection, my partner was a superstar beyond all comprehension. He gathered my prescriptions and snacks and did all the stuff. (Franky, it does seem like he is trying to fatten me up). He was home for day one and two and I’d defiantly say that is needed. Day three I was more able to move around slowly or squat down and pick up things I dropped, or that kind of thing. Currently, I am actually running some laundry and I know he’d be upset but it wasn’t heavy to manage…(this is my problem and will be going forward). I do recall, after my c-section, vacuuming and hearing about it from my doctor and my then husband, and it was a poor choice but as I’m sure most of us can relate; I’m home and shit needs done! But, yes, I do not need to literally pop a stitch or injure myself internally.
Speaking of stitches, there are internal ones that take apparently up to 3 months to heal and external ones that reportedly take 4-6 weeks. There are 3 small suture locations and one Band-Aid over my belly button (where apparently a camera was). My belly looks distended and puffy. I do not wish to sneeze, laugh or cough. Blowing your nose with all the power of a tiny field mouse is tricky. And, as mentioned, poop is equally feared and hoped for…
As for pain, I’ve been managing with regular over the counters of Tylenol and Advil and needing less and less. I have muscle aches and feel stiff and tight but wow, modern medicine! I can’t believe I literally had an organ removed 3 days ago and am walking around, not bleeding, and able to joke about poop! That’s pretty fantastic.
This experience has also made me feel so loved! I had one friend give me a reaching stick (that has been handy), one bring soup, another drop off soup today, and so many people reached out and asked how I’m doing! Like, I literally had a woman I worked with years ago remember my surgery date and reach out to ask how I was! I’ve had people check in and check back. It makes me feel really lucky. I sure wish that for others.
I’ve had a couple of people close to me (obviously not so close to me!) not remember, or inquire, and it reminds me to focus on the friends who think of me. I’ve been disappointed in my ex, but what else is new? I try to not live in a place of hurt feelings and being constantly shocked by repeated behavior that I should expect by now. I have to honor the many who honor me and remember those kindnesses. I can’t believe it actually, so heartwarming. (Also, the world doesn’t revolve around me, so it’s no one’s obligation to make me the main character. I know that, so its even more amazing).
So, in conclusion, if you are having issues with the old Yam Bucket; or period problems, do not fear getting on the track for surgery. Obviously there are risks and discomforts, but is the fresh hell that is your period worse than a few weeks of rest and recovery? I hate knowing that there are women who have no access to this care or no opportunity to eliminate something that is causing them monthly pain or other complications; with no clear end date (just a slow trudge into menopause). I was left with ovaries, so I will not enter menopause until the regularly scheduled programming, so that’s great (and not), but at least I never have to consider a period again, or a “geriatric” pregnancy.
But, as I noted earlier, apparently “No uterus; no opinion”, so what do I know? I certainly seem to have no off limit topics anyway.
Periscopecake 