Friday, September 9, 2011


Oh. My. I so feel like I’m being tested.

I feel like I’ve been doing okay with juggling all the things that have been going on since we decided to build our home last November. But I gotta tell ya’, this last week has got me just about ready to drop everything and go live in a cave.

In addition to the friendship blow up last week (which now seems to be on hold, I don’t know), it’s also the 10-year anniversary of 9/11. As you may know if you read my older blog, 9/11 was the day my previous partner was diagnosed with leukemia and our worlds turned upside down. He didn’t survive. So generally, the week leading up to 9/11 is an emotional time for me.

Add to that my recent (as in just found out this morning) heath issues and I’m ready to go hide out in a cave. With some chocolate. And maybe a case of wine.

So, last Friday I started feeling some abdominal pain but didn’t think much of it as I was also ready to ovulate. You see, for the last year/year-and-a-half, I’ve experienced some cramping with ovulation and didn’t think much of it. After all, muscles must be contracting in order to move the egg down the fallopian tubes, right?

So Saturday, the pain was a bit worse. And Sunday, a bit more worse. By Monday I couldn’t bend over to pick something up off the floor, tie my shoes, or lean forward to wash my face over the sink without pain. I was pretty useless. So I made a doctor appointment for Wednesday. Turns out I was also due for my physical and pap, so we did those too. I figured I might as well take care of it before we move since I’ll still need to find a new doctor once we get to North Carolina.

I discussed the pain with my doctor, which was followed by a lot of external prodding. Not a ton of pain; but tender in spots. Then the pap. The speculum hurt so much I nearly kicked my doctor in the head. The came the pelvic exam. Oh cripes, I just about hit the ceiling from the pain. My doctor ordered an ultrasound, which I did yesterday. And I got the results this morning.

I have a 5.7 cm uterine fibroid (tumor) in my uterus. It doesn’t appear to be cancerous, and I have an appointment with a gynecologist on Tuesday to discuss treatment options. Though, given the size (quite large I’m told) surgery will probably be necessary.

So here’s the thing. I looked up the symptoms and guess what? I’ve been complaining about various symptoms for several years.

  • Heavier menstrual bleeding (contributing to anemia and fatigue, which may also help explain my fainting spells in early August) (Yeah. I know I didn’t say anything about it here when it happened, but I lost consciousness 3 times in 1 evening. Very weird. I don't think I've ever fainted before.)
  • Feelings of fullness and pressure in the pelvic area
  • Constipation
  • Backache
  • Painful intercourse
  • Urinary tract infection
  • Enlargement of the lower abdomen (well hell, no wonder I can’t get my tummy to shrink at all and it always looks like I’m about 4 months pregnant)

Some of these symptoms seemed to clear up on their own and my doctors (I’ve had 3 different health plans over the past 5–6 years) didn’t investigate further. In fact, I’ve been upset with my current doctor because that seems to be her approach, “These things tend to resolve themselves. Let’s wait and see.”

But I will say this for her, when she finished the exam on Wednesday, she believed my pain and told me unconditionally that she would get to the bottom of it. No more wait and see, though at that point she was thinking ovarian cyst. I only wish she could have linked the symptoms together sooner.

Anyhow, so now there’s this to cope with during an already stressed out time. I honestly didn’t think I had room for more, but I guess we all do what we have to do, rise to the occasion, persevere (or preserve, ☺), and all that.

I’ve been planning to tell my boss about the move next Wednesday—one month before we move—but now I’m wondering what this health issue is going to do to our timeline. If I have to have surgery I feel like I should do it here with my doctors rather than rushing to find a new doctor there who doesn’t know me or my history at all.

Or, what if I don't get to keep my job with the move and I don't have health insurance at all? Okay, that's a scary thought. Scoob and I may have to rush things and go ahead and get married. (Yes, I know we've been engaged for years, so "rushing" probably isn't the right word, but we haven't planned anything yet, so in that sense it's rushing.) Then there’s the timing of the surgery. Can we schedule it before the move? What’s the recuperation time?

And then again, I don’t have all the information yet, and I won’t until I meet with the gynecologist on Tuesday. So I’m really just pointlessly spinning the little hamster wheels in my brain. Until I know more, all I can do is tuck it away and try to maintain.

1 comment:

  1. Praying. And I'm sorry you've got so much you're dealing with right now.