I don’t know why I am crying. It seems so dumb because I got some relatively good news. I just left the gynecologist office where she told me that not only do I have PCOS, and a fibroid on my uterus, but I have adenomyosis and possibly endometriosis. I need to have an MRI and a biopsy and then I will probably have a hysterectomy and one of my ovaries will be removed. Basically the only cure from the pain is a hysterectomy. This means that someday in the hopefully near future, I will be pain free.
That’s good news right?
So this is weird that I am crying right? I left the doctor’s office and walked to the bus stop and started crying on the way. I felt so pathetic and weird. I pulled myself together before the bus came thankfully but I’ve been crying off and on all day. I am unsure why because I’ve been hoping for this for so long. I can’t even tell you how many times I have clutched at my crotch and cried to the heavens take these blasted ovaries!!! That was when I thought it was the PCOS causing this pain, which was what my docs made me believe. This is where I believe those doctors weren’t paying much attention to me, because my new Doctor, Dr. Lee, says that PCOS doesn’t cause as much pain as I am experiencing. There were many times over the last ten years that I have told my husband that I wanted to cut out my female organs myself. I am fairly certain I came close many times. I can be determined and bull headed. I was in so much pain that I had a few moments where stabbing myself in the ovaries seemed like a valid plan to get someone to finally do something about the pain. That is how insane the pain made me.
I feel like it still is making me crazy. I don’t even understand my feelings right now. I am not unhappy that I finally found a doctor who listens to me, although rather curtly. I am not displeased with the idea of surgery.
I have waited and worked so long for this. I have had at least five of those vaginal ultrasounds, countless pap smears and exams, and many frustrating tear soaked conversations with doctors. There were two emergency room visits where I left filled with morphine that didn’t help and no closer to answers. I’ve had relatives over and over tell me to get a hysterectomy even though no doctor would agree to it until now. I have worked hard to get to this point. I am exhausted.
There is still so much work to do. I have an MRI, and a biopsy, and several other appointments. I have to prepare my house, and cook some good food to freeze, and then I will have to recover. I am right now researching the surgery, recovery times, the hospital, and the surgeon etc. There is still so much work to be done before I put this behind me. I am not done. I am far from done. It’s not like this is the only thing I am doing either. I am lucky right now because I have no job, but I want one. I want to write, teach, volunteer, and go back to school. My head is swimming with all the things I want to do and need to do.
Plus I am living in a large city I have just barely made my home with only my husband for support. My family is either in Oklahoma or Idaho. I feel very alone this way. I am not discounting the comfort and love my amazing husband has provided, but do to the nature of the problems I have been having I really do miss my female family members terribly right now. I am wondering why the hell did I move so far away??
Maybe it is the fact that not one but all of my sexual organs have something wrong with them. I mean I should have been born a man, because my body is clearly rejecting all that makes me a woman. I have not ever really thought of myself as someone who clings to that bullshit, but it is almost obscene how ridiculous it is that EVERYTHING is wrong down there. Having these organs out won’t make me less of a woman. I am not mourning the loss of my femininity. I don’t see these organs as having anything to do with how much of a woman I am. I am a woman because of the cultural significance of my outward body more than anything. I was raised a woman. I care for my family and friends as an Oklahoman woman would. Truly, I believe my actions prove my femininity more than anything. However, as a lover of gothic literature, it is not lost on me the idea that my female organs are sort of eating themselves.
Perhaps I am just used to complaining and seeing the hard times coming. Perhaps I am relieved. Perhaps it is the hormones or maybe I am just exhausted. Whatever it is, I am hopeful this is the last time I cry over my health.