Recovery, Results, Requests

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. :)

Surgery, Part 2: What the Heart Wants

**Read Part 1 HERE.**

I'll begin by saying I don't like being asked personal questions on somebody else's watch. I'm a pretty open person and I'll give anybody details as long as I'm comfortable with that person, but even from close friends and family I don't like the suddenness of "What are you having surgery for?" It doesn't mean I "don't like you" if I don't answer... it's just a very personal issue. It's my story, and I get to choose when it's told. That time is now.

You've already been informed that the fancy hospital socks were not the highlight of yesterday. But this was. 

So Tim the chaplain was holding my hand. He had kind eyes and a sincere smile as he asked me if there was anything or anyone else I'd like him to pray for. I looked up at Joey, and up at Tim, back and forth until I look back down at my own hands. I told him what I was there for, why I was having the surgery, and what I hoped would happen next. My answer for him was brief, and included some awkward hand motions because I felt so incredibly overwhelmed, but this is the back story for all of you:

I want to have kids. For reasons unknown to me, it just hasn't happened yet. We've been trying for three years, not knowing what to do, or if it's anyone's fault. When we finally got health insurance last summer I knew the time had come to figure all this out. So first I got the surface stuff out of the way--allergies, vitamin deficiencies, physicals and all the basics. Then I did the hard stuff like "lady doctor" visits. I was reprimanded for not having a ob/gyn visit sooner, but I wasn't "active" (yeah, I went there) until I was married. So, yes, I went 6 extra years without one because I didn't need one. I'm not sure if making that appointment sooner in my life would have solved anything, but it's too late now to make a difference. 

It was after that appointment that the adventure really started. They discovered I had "abnormal cells" and I spent a month worrying that I had cancer. I scheduled a colposcopy, which they rescheduled three times for various reasons. It was an anxiety-filled month. When the colposcopy finally happened they did seven biopsies (you can look colposcopy up, if you want to. Just understand it was the most painful experience of my life, even worse than this surgery [so far] and it's a pretty gross concept. So do your research, but you have been warned.)

My doctor called with the results of the colposcopy about a week later and said there was some polyp tissue. Polyps are pretty harmless, in general--except that they take up space. She said it was possibly the polyp, if it really was there, was simply taking up space and inhibiting fertility. So I went in for an ultrasound, but they couldn't see anything because my uterus was too flat. Yes, that's right, too flat. The layers were all stuck together. My doctor said I could do a secondary ultrasound during which they would dilate the uterus, if I wanted to, but if they saw the polyp they would end up doing surgery no matter what. She gave me the option going straight to surgery, and I said yes. 

It was one of those moments where I knew the answer right away. It was imperative for me to answer right away. My husband was in the shower, and I briefly thought about calling my mother to ask her advice, but it only took a second to realize this was my decision. I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest, but I said yes.

So that brings us back to Thursday, February 26th around 1pm. Tim the chaplain is holding my hand and I'm telling him that I hope this procedure will allow me to have kids. He thanked me, because it was very personal information, and he began to pray.

He prayed that Joey and I would have peace and comfort, that I would heal quickly. He prayed for a successful procedure and a smooth recovery. He started to pray about having children, and he began with my least favorite words: Lord, let your will be done.

Even if you haven't been reading my blog for long you know that I find this prayer pointless. God's will is going to be done, even if we don't ask for it, even if we don't want it. While he does want us to seek his will, he also wants us to communicate with him, to tell him what we want. Even if he says no, he always hears us.

Tim the chaplain was in the middle of those blithe, careless prayers about the will of God and I had started thinking, "Wow, what a disappointing prayer," because I had hoped his words would be encouraging. As he started to ask God to help us understand if children weren't in our future, I began to feel immensely depressed. 

And then Tim laughed and said, "But we know you better than that." He quoted Matthew 18:19-20, which says, "Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them." I could hear the joy in his voice as he spoke about God hearing us, and as he prayed that God would bring us children.

My tired eyes were filled with tears as Tim gripped my hand tightly, smiling down at me, and then he left. Joey and I were speechless for a minute or two, sharing in the joy of what has just happened. 

He hears us. He is with us. He hears our hearts and I believe can grant us those desires. I believe my heart wants what it wants because he put it there, and he doesn't do anything without a reason. 

It wasn't long before another crowd of nurses and doctors came in, asking me more questions and I had to tell one more person I didn't have PCOS. I was given a dose of something to lay the foundation for the anesthesia, and became very sleepy as my surgeon informed me I couldn't take a bath for two weeks after the surgery. (This is literally the most difficult part about the whole ordeal. Taking a bath is like therapy. I can't live without it.) I handed Joey my glasses and he kissed me goodbye, and as they wheeled me into the operating room some part of my sleepy brain had this song stuck in my head.

 To Be Continued...