I've always been a writer, since high school English class with Mrs. Inabinet, probably even before then, but I don't remember so well. I've also wanted to always do a blog but always made excuses for it.
ANYWAYS, what better time to do it than while I'm recovering from this stupid surgery. It's stupid in my mind. I know it's necessary and it deals with my health, but quite frankly, it's just like having to go pee, it takes so much time to go in, pull down your pants, sit on the toilet, do your thing (rolling the eyes), tear the tissue while battling whether really which way is the right way for the roll to be on, wipe, pull up your pants, flush, and go about your business. Now if you're a mom I dare you to try and go pee when your two year old is asleep. In my house, I would come out of the bathroom and my hallway wall would be covered in a new color - SHARPIE. Nope, didn't stutter, yes, Sharpie, marker because my two year old decided that nap time wasn't going to happen that day. That was fun.
So this surgery is just as irritating as having to pee in the middle of writing a paper or cooking dinner or heaven forbid, talking on the phone. It's irritating because it's gonna take me about two weeks to not walk like a 70 year old and 4 weeks before I'm exercising, still working on that battle to lose the last 10 lbs of my 2 year old. That is another story for a different day, I tell ya. I'm slightly impatient when it comes to things and just now after 30 years realizing this.I understand it's unrealistic, but I still am aggravated that it takes a month for your body to recover from a surgery. I mean, now, they can go in and replace parts and make life expectancy about 20 years older and you can basically get a catalog ordered baby, packed with your own eye color, stature, and hair style, but it still takes FOREVER to get back to normal from removing a little blood and scar tissue? There's gotta be a pill for speedy recovery, there's gotta be.
In case your curious, surgery number four on the girl parts included removing blood from my pelvic cavity and abdominal cavity. The docs also removed scar tissue "aka" adhesions from my left ovary and small intestine. Apparently, my menstrual blood decided it was going to go backwards into my pelvic cavity and not into my uterus like it's supposed to. My husband has called my girl parts "an angry beaver" before...there's a new definition of it. These adhesions formed when after I was sewed up from my two c-sections. Apparently, scar tissue forms to heal the body and my body decided my left ovary was broken and my small intestine was broken and needed extra tissue. The doc also informed me that I had quite a bit of scar tissue on the bladder caused from one of my c-sections. I didn't know this but they sometimes injure the bladder when they cut you open. This would explain the repeated bladder infections and the colicky cramping I get. The third surgery was to remove some ovarian cysts from the left ovary, and the other two were my c-sections for my lovely children.
My mom, after telling her about the ovarian cyst surgery, recommended getting a hysterectomy. At the time, I was still dreamy eyed about not doing that because what if something were to happen to the kids, what if something happened to me and Jeff, would removing my girl parts make me less of a woman? A year later, talking to the doctor who did this surgery and enduring four ovarian cysts rupturing, I asked him if he could PLEASE remove at least the left ovary. Yeah, I was serious because being a woman, already has it's sucky moments, but no woman should have to endure the rupturing of a cyst AFTER giving birth to children. You've put in your time, done your duty, after bearing children. I'm still pissed women have to go through menopause and get ridiculed for it. "HA, HA" the doc said, "You're ovaries are still in great shape despite the complications you've had." Other women tell me "No, I know friends who did just a partial hysterectomy and struggled to get the hormone cocktail correct." What flashes through my mind is my poor husband's face when the Exorcist in me decides it wants to come out and I have no control what so ever, very similar to what pregnancy was. This person, hell, I wouldn't even call it a person, this hormone devil, came and took over my body when I was pregnant and said and did things I, Amanda, would never, ever, say or do. I can't do that to me and Jeff again, we've been through it twice. I need to give him a few years before he has to go through that again.
So here I sit, with my angry girl parts, injured and full of piss and vinegar. I'm here for a reason though. I think that reason is to slow down and to not be superwoman any more; I have a strange feeling my body doesn't like it too much...three years and two surgeries...HMMM. I'm lucky because I have great friends and a great family. My girl friends have brought over meals for a whole week and my in laws, who I think of like my mom and dad, have helped Jeff take care of our kids and him this weekend. Tonight, I've gotten to create something that I've wanted to create for years, so really, this surgery isn't a lose-lose situation...turn that frown upside down, girl, it's a win-win. :)