Tuesday, March 31, 2015


I keep repeating that word.  Over and over.  To myself.  To my kids.  To my spouse.


When does this medical shit ever END?  Does it? Will it? Can it?

It's just ridiculous, now.  Embarrassing.

A while back, I was recovering nicely from my third InterStim surgery. Things were finally going well. Then BOING. That's right; BOING.  What felt like a guitar string snapping inside me has totally turned me around.  I don't sleep at night - again.  I can't lie on my bed.  I'm back to taking pain meds.  I'm bleeding every day.

I saw my doc and he did a pelvic exam.  Wait; let me rephrase that:  He tried to do a pelvic exam.  The pain was so bad that I almost passed out.  He told me that I was still bleeding.  He told me that he was very concerned.  He explained that though he tried, he could not do a thorough enough exam because of my pain levels.  He is pretty sure that something has torn inside of me.  As much as I tried to listen, all I heard was "torn."  He knows me pretty well and made sure that I heard what he was saying. I cried.


So now what?
Doncha know sarcasm when ya hear it (Said in my best Lucy Van Pelt voice)?

"Let's do another pelvic.  A very thorough one.  Under general anesthesia."


I was asked if I needed more pain pills.  I said I didn't. I had some at home.  I knew the drill; go home, wait for the surgical coordinator to call me. So, after telling my husband this story, who, by the way, is just as worried, sad, disgusted, and scared as I am, I did that.

I got a call today.  April 24th.


I told the coordinator that that was a long way off.  I hung up and cried.  But not for long.  I let my husband know.  He wasn't happy at all.  I called my doc's office back.  Had I known it would take that long to get this done, I would have taken that prescription.  But I know that there is no way on God's green earth that I can wait that long.  This pain is wicked.  I'm bleeding.  Bleeding enough to worry my doc.  I told the coordinator this.

I got a call back immediately.  My doc wants her to see if the hospital (they were going to do this in the office surgical suite) can fit me in sometime next week.  That still seems like such a long time to have to endure this stuff.  What can I do?  Hurt and bleed.  Bleed and hurt.  Take pain meds that I detest and make me a blubbering idiot - a blubbering idiot that can take the pain, though.  I have to keep reminding myself that this is for a pelvic exam.  A flippin' pelvic exam; an exam millions of women get every day that takes maybe 45 seconds. I can't even do a pelvic exam right.

So, now I wait. Again.  Will need more pre-op testing. Again. Forgive me for whining.  I've whined a lot for the past two years.  I've tried to put on a positive smile, and, for the most part, I am a very positive person. It's getting a bit harder to smile these days.  Life is so short.  I want to do so much.  I'll get there, but the road is rough. Meditation helps.  But not enough, right now.  I'm so looking forward to the day when I am asked how I'm doing and I can honestly say, "Great."


Until next time,


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