This tale begins on a very snowy day (the roads were terrible) in mid-January...(are you excited yet?? you didn't skip ahead to the pictures did you?? really, you should have more patience)...the girls stayed home from school, which meant I stayed home from work. I had been having pain in my abdomen off and on - sometimes just a weird ache feeling, sometimes lovely stabbing pains. I assumed, of course, that this was a result of my IUD being "not quite right." So, being the non-procrastinating person that I am (ok, you can stop laughing now) I called the doctor so that he could fix it. They just happened to have an appointment that afternoon. My lovely sister came over to watch the kids because I figured I might as well just go since I was home anyway and get it over with. I fretted all day about this appointment - thinking "oh no, I hope they don't have to take this one out and put another one in" and "maybe they can just adjust this one" - the point is that I thought the worst-case-scenario was dealing with the ouchies of them replacing the current IUD (not fun).
So, the doctor comes in, I explain the problem, he does the normal poking and prodding that the OB/GYN does and says "yep, the pain seems to be coming from your uterus." Oh gee, thanks doc...I knew that much already! He went on to say that there could be a few reasons for the pain (none of which were my IUD - CRAP!): it could be an infection, endometriosis, some other "osis" that sounded very similar; or uterine prolapse. He didn't think it was an infection but tested for it just in case - and the only way to figure out which of the other things it might be was to do diagnostic laparoscopic surgery. If it was either of the first 2 "osis" problems, he could take care of that while he was in there - if it was uterine prolapse (where the muscles holding your uterus up weaken and it "falls") then he would have to remove my uterus to make the pain stop. WTH??? I thought "holy crap, a little bit of pain and this guy wants to cut me open!" My alternative was to live with the pain - which was getting progressively worse. This all happened on a Monday - he wanted to know if I could come in on Friday to have it done. Uh - NO. That's not nearly enough time for me to worry and work myself up into a state of panic! So I scheduled it for the following Friday (since the jackass had the girls that weekend).
As you would expect, I completely freaked myself out - I've never so much as had a stitch and now they want to filet me like a fish! On top of that, if it was uterine prolapse (which wasn't unlikely since I had twins), I was going to lose my uterus. While it's true that I don't really want to have any more children, I still would like to have that choice! I'd like to keep all of my parts please, thank you. Not only did I have the surgery to freak out about - court was that week as well. The schedule was M-work; T-meeting with the lawyer to discuss the trial, eye doctor appointment for me and Olivia; W-custody trial; T-back to doctor to be double checked as "okay to be slaughtered" (goody, I passed); F-the mutilation was scheduled to begin at 9, had to be there at 7:30. By Friday morning I was just sick. Mom came over the night before and we went out to dinner - she stayed overnight and then drove me to the hospital in the morning.
Oh, did I mention that there was an ice storm Thursday night? Yep, everything was covered with a huge layer of ice - schools were closed all over the area, etc...Ok, off to the hospital we go, bright and early. I get there and get my oh-so-fashionable gown on, get my IV (could have done a better job myself-OUCH), then talk repeatedly to various doctors, nurses, and anesthesiologists. I make sure to tell them that anesthesia usually makes me very ill - so they give me 3 different shots of "stuff" so that it doesn't happen. Ok, shortly after all of that, off I go to the OR...the nurse has explained to me that they keep the room 20 degrees cooler than the rest of the hospital - and they sure weren't kidding. In the OR they make me move from the bed I'm on onto the operating table and then strap my arms down with velcro straps and cover me with a warm blanket. My doctor comes in and asks if I'm ready - complete with his batman surgical cap on...I said "oh boy, THAT gives me a lot of confidence" - joking about his hat - he laughs and says to the anesthesiologist "this one's mouthy - knock her out, would ya?" - and a few seconds later I was out.
The next thing I know - a sweet nurse is waking me up asking me if I'm in pain. It takes me nearly an hour to be able to hold my eyes open, and during that hour she put 3 shots of some sort of pain medicine into my IV. When I was a little more awake I asked for my Mommy and they let her come in. A little while later they gave me some ice - then some crackers and ginger ale. She was a nice lady. :-) I asked her when I could go home and she told me that I could go whenever I wanted...well, I WANTED. I could lay on my couch just the same as I could lie there, and it would be a hell of a lot more comfortable. The nice drug lady gave me a Percocet and I got dressed. I was outta there.
My apartment is about 10 minutes from the hospital...but knowing how I react to anesthesia, I brought a bucket just in case. ;-) We stopped and dropped off my Rx on the way home and just when we pull up to the drive thru, the ice-crackers-ginger ale contents of my stomach decided they'd rather be in the bucket. Oh joy. Bet that pharmacy tech wished someone else had answered the buzzer. Mom took me home and I changed into super-comfy jammies and passed out on my couch. At some point my mom must have left because when I woke up, she had picked up my Rx, a heating pad, and some vanilla ice cream (YUM). She set me up with something to drink, my heating pad, some crackers, and a bucket within reach and went home. There was no sense in her staying there to watch me sleep - so I finally convinced her I'd be okay by myself.
The following day I was still very sick - and we determined it was probably from the Percocet that my doctor had prescribed, so Mom called him and he called in a Rx for Darvocet...so my Mommy drove back out to Chardon, picked up my new Rx, and brought me some chicken noodle soup that she had made that morning. I love my Mommy. :-) For the next few days all I did was drug myself every 4 hours and sleep. On Monday I attempted to go to work, after all, it was only 3 tiny little pieces of tape and a belly full of gas (they "inflate" you so that they can see during the surgery - and the left over gas causes crazy pain in your shoulders...ouch). Mark picked me up because I was still very drugged. Oh, did I mention that there was a fresh coat of ice that morning as well. Mark had to walk me to the car like a small child so that I didn't slip and fall...pathetic. I actually got quite a bit done at work but was absolutely exhausted and in quite a bit of pain by the time we left around 2:30. On Tuesday I was still really, really sore so I called the doctor to make sure it was normal - he had told me I could return to work on Monday. He said that it was normal and he meant the FOLLOWING Monday - and that the cyst they removed was pretty big. So, I took up residence on my couch for the rest of the week. I was bored out of my mind. Daytime TV is terrible and I could never stay awake through an entire movie. The whole recovery period sucked.
But - I am back to work finally and all is well. I am still a little sore and get tired very easily - but overall MUCH better. The whole ordeal turned out to be so much more debilitating that I had expected. What a pain in the ass.
The pictures are of my uterus (the white thing), each of my ovaries (other white things), the cyst (black thing), and what was left after they removed the cyst. Mom said the doctor came out and showed her the pictures right after he finished the surgery and explained to her what had happened. He said that he also found some endometriosis and "cleaned that up" while he was in there. I should be all fixed now. Thanks Batman.