All is well, as far as I know.

This is a post surgery update. As I begin this post it is almost 9:30 Friday evening. I was getting out of major surgery yesterday at 1:30. Medical technology is amazing. I had robotic surgery to remove my uterus, cervix, fallopian tubes and ovaries. Check this out: the term for the surgical procedure of removing all of a woman's ovaries and fallopian tubes is bilateral salpingooopherectomy. When the operating room nurse told us that yesterday both Superman and I were in nerd heaven.

I'm very tired. This post might not hold together really well. I took my pain meds about half an hour ago. This is not sober blogging. There are things I wish to say, and will say, but probably not tonight.

I was released from hospital about 12:30, less than 24 hours after I'd been in surgery. And I feel amazingly good all this considered. I'm sore and stiff, as if I was shaken up in a car wreck recently. My neck muscles are sore. What's up with that?

I have five small incisions in my belly, and only one of them hurts. It hurts plenty enough for the others. Moving is a delicate operation. I'm so fat that when I stand up my stomach sags, dragging down the tissues that were disturbed. The more I move around, though, the better I feel, generally. I'm supposed to take it real easy for the next two weeks, not lift anything over 10 pounds (I'm saying less than 10 lbs to begin with), not drive, etc. And I'm OK with that. The 1.5 hour trip home from the hospital was ambitious. Certainly doable, but ambitious.

There is more I want to say about what the doctor found and what kind of follow-up we need to do. Right now though I am so tired I'm gonna quit now. Stay tuned.

Today is U day!

Today is the day the diseased uterus comes out. I woke at 4 a.m. realizing the warm body snuggled against me was the dog, not Superman. He had trouble sleeping. (Superman, not the dog.) He's much more nervous than I am, the poor dear. I don't think the dog has a clue or would care even if he did. He's very good at being a dog. (The dog, not Superman.)

Every pregnant woman hears horror stories about other women's difficult childbirth experiences. Once I announced I was having a hysterectomy, I've heard anecdotes from women who've had hysterectomies or know those who've gone through it. I have been worried about the "discomfort" I'll experience afterward, but hadn't thought about the hormonal effects of having my ovaries suddenly ripped from my body. (That's perhaps not the most comforting way to express it.) But millions of women have lived through it and I expect to as well. Pretty soon I'll have my own horror stories to tell.

And that's about all I have time to talk about today. I've been contemplating how my concept of being a woman might be tied in to having a uterus, and what it means on a philosophical level to be losing mine. But that's a discussion for another time, when I'm not hurrying to get this posted so I can go lose my uterus.

See you on the flip side!

This is it

It came Thursday, a business size envelope thick with papers. Right, all the forms the doctor's office wants you to fill out when you are a new patient. Until that envelope arrived part of my mind still pretended it wasn't real. The return address: Gibbs Cancer Center and Research Institute.

I got the news on Monday, 12 January, from my gynecologist. My appointment with the oncologist is next Wednesday, 21 January. I must have those forms filled out by then. It's Saturday night and I haven't opened the envelope.

For the last few months my... I hate talking about my menstrual cycle, especially with men. But this is the story, so here it goes. For the last few months my menstruation has been messed up. A period that should have lasted about five days dragged on for three weeks. Not all heavy bleeding, but not stopping as it should. The next time my period started, it lasted five weeks. Again, no huge loss of blood, but still. So I saw my gynecologist. This was three or four weeks ago. She scheduled an ultrasound, which we did two weeks ago. The images looked like shades of gray and black splotches, but I'm no expert. The expert said the lining of the uterus looked too thick for as much as I've been bleeding recently. I said it was too thick for my age (I'll be 53 on 22 January, the day after I see the oncologist for the first time.) I should be well into complete menopause by now. My doctor said I was an overachiever. I laughed.

Because the lining, the endometrium, was thicker than it ought to be, my doc took a sample to biopsy. Right there in the office. No big deal, except boy, was that uncomfortable! That was Wednesday the 7th. I made a follow up appointment for two weeks out, next Tuesday, the 20th. Except that on Monday morning my doctor's nurse called to tell me that the biopsy report had come back and the doctor wanted to talk to me, how about 2;00 this afternoon? Doesn't everyone know what that means?

When I got to the office early afternoon Monday my blood pressure, which normally is 120/80 give or take ten points, was 150/90.

The doctor told me that there were suspicious cells in the endometrium. Did she actually say cancer cells, or was it pre-cancerous? I don't remember exactly. My official diagnosis is atypical hyperplasia,* whatever that means. (I have studiously avoided WebMD for the sake of my blood pressure.) That diagnosis is grounds for hysterectomy right there, she said. But more than that, it's the presence of those pesky cells that shouldn't be there. They indicate cancer or what will probably very soon be cancer. My doctor had her people book the next available appointment with the best doctor in the southeast. (So says my therapist. She knows these things.)

All I really know is that I will have a hysterectomy, probably very soon. I hope very soon. Now that I know this uterus is diseased, I want it gone as soon as possible. Also, the damn thing continues to bleed, and I'm SO over that mess! I hope to get a surgery date when I see the gynecological oncologist (say that out loud, then try it three times really fast) on Wednesday. I'll let you know.

There's lots of drama going on with Diva, some news on Sproing. Very briefly...

Sproing is in a military style "camp" about three hours east of here in the flat and sandy nowherelands. Superman and I are going to visit him tomorrow (Sunday). He's doing very well there, and will likely be sprung (Sproing gets sprung) in February.

Diva is supposed to move in with her birth mother this weekend. Today, even. She's got all her stuff packed, Janice (birth mom) has things set up for her to start school up there on Tuesday (Monday being a holiday). But Diva is at her friend's house near here. Superman went to pick her up this afternoon and she refused, loudly, to go with him. Don't know what we're going to do about it, exactly. We have all her stuff, holding it hostage here at the house. I'll try to update this clusterfuck as soon as possible, perhaps with some juicy detail.

*OK, I looked it up, but on the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists website. That link up there goes to a clear explanation of endometrial hyperplasia.