They gave me this bottle of high-dosage ibuprofen. This little tiny bottle was literally brimming with pills, as if to say, "You're really gonna need these!" My first couple of days home I took them as a precaution, just to ward off the pain I feared would come. Even though I was mostly just sore, they helped, and made me more comfortable if nothing else. By Sunday I was actually feeling some significant pain, so I took them as a necessity. I have a very high pain threshold, but everything is a bit overwhelming right now and the added sensation of sharp stabbies and hard pokies made me very anxious.
Overall I was feeling pretty good about everything. Even the minimal pain I felt was tolerable, the cramping had subsided, and my limbs stopped aching every time I breathed. I knew I was well on the road to healing when I could sneeze without any trouble. I was under the impression that things would soon go back to normal, I would have my post-op appointment with my doctor, and I could begin the process of making tiny humans.
Then yesterday my obgyn called me with the results of the surgery.
This part is hard because I feel like nobody wants to hear it. Nobody really wants to read a blog about my uterus. (Even writing it is weird. It shouldn't be.) It's hard to blur the lines of me vs. my body because I know I'm not writing about my body... I'm writing about me. This story is about me, not my body, not my organs, not my cells. Me.
And I could write all the fancy medical terms to explain what's wrong, except that wouldn't cover it either, since it doesn't really answer much. It doesn't tell us what's wrong overall. It's just a piece of what's wrong, another jot or tittle in the story I'm telling.
So here's the gist of it: I have pre-cancer. There are 4 stages of this particular kind of pre-cancer and I have stage 2. I'm looking at 3-9 months of therapy, the details of which are not yet clear. I also have to have regular colposcopies and biopsies.
If I wasn't clear the other day, the one colposcopy I had back in December was the singularly most painful experience of my entire life. I'm sure that my brain lights up like a Christmas tree when I think about the trauma endured during that procedure. It was not only painful physically, but mentally as well. I felt messed with--I was told I would have a local anesthetic, and I didn't. I was told it would be "relatively painless," and it wasn't.
The fact that I have to go through the same thing regularly is devastating.
Thus, I am here again, asking you all to pray with me. In the face of this painful and confusing situation, I am not about to doubt God. I know he hears me. I don't know why any of this is happening, but I know he hears me. He hears us. So please continue to pray for me and with me. Pray that the therapy is only required for a short time. Pray that the colposcopies and biopsies would be quick, short, and that I would be provided with anesthetic or (even better!) that they would just put me out for the procedure. Pray that this entire thing is merely a detour... and that soon I can move on to the process of becoming a mother.
As a side note... in the spirit of honesty, I want to express how thankful I am for the people who were so indescribably supportive last week after my surgery. It was such a blessing to be able to tell my story on my blog. You not only read my words but you shared your feelings with me afterward. I am grateful for your time and your friendship, and hope you'll stick around as I continue this journey. You are all incredible.
Side note #2... my blog got a makeover. :)