Content Warning:
There are graphic pictures and details below.
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To recap: December 2020 I had a full hysterectomy. And by full, that means everything went except my ovaries. Goodbye uterus. So long cervix. Farewell fallopian tubes! But the ovaries stayed, to prevent the onstart of surgical menopause. This sounded great. The surgery and the whole experience was quite horrid and traumatic. But, I was overall fine. Some of the symptoms I had abated, others persisted.
Summer, or late Spring, 2024 I had a breast cancer scare. Couple tests and one biopsy later- all was well! Through that process I had a conversation with my great aunt Hallie on my bio dad's side. She is the only family there I am in contact with at the moment, he passed from a heart attack at age 53 back in 2009. Hallie shared there were quite a few family members who had died of different cancers. This was new info! My doctor had me do a genetic test.
Sidebar, to get the test, I had to go to the cancer center. A beautifully restored mansion on a lake at the end of a cul de sac in serene neighborhood. This was a surreal moment. It had not really occurred to me that cancer was an option until walking into that place and taking the test. There was gorgeous art work on the walls and when I got close to read the little wall plaque, I learned all of the current art was created by students at Miss Halls!
The test came back all clear- no breast cancer gene! However, I did test positive for the gene for ovarian cancer. Dr. DiSiena then says, well, you do not have cancer as far as we know, but we can't really know until we remove your ovaries and test them. And there are a few good reasons for this. First, we'll know for certain. Second, it's prevention because ovarian cancer is not easy to detect until it's far progressed. Third, some of your other symptoms may lessen or stop. That all sounded great to me!
I called my mom to update her and she was very happy, said, "Oh, that's what happened to me! Remember? They found cancer cells at that time."
Another sidebar (thanks for indulging me). Getting medical info from my momma is a herculean effort. Sometimes she remembers, sometimes she kind of remembers that thing that happened that time that was weird. In 2016, I had panic attacks and horrific migraines and a host of other stuff. Did a whole bunch of tests. I blacked out while driving. It was crazy. Then my psych said I should be tested for asthma (that checked out!), and asked if I had ever had meningitis. If you looked up scoff in the dictionary I would have been right there, cheesing. I called my momma to tell her and thought she would laugh. Nope. This God fearing woman who gave me life said Oh yeah that happened. Huh?! Apparently, when I was a baby/toddler, I was sick and super sleepy, lethargic. So momma kept taking me to the clinic until a doctor said, lets do a test and they "went into my spine" as momma put it and look at that meningitis. So I was in the hospital and they treated me and then "I was fine". So, I went back to my psych, the proverbial hat in hand, to be served my humble pie with a heap of gratitude on the side. Thank you, Dr. Abasturi.
Ok, so momma confirms that when she had her ovaries removed, they did indeed find cancer cells. Halleulujah to that life saving decision. I get connected to Dr. Patel. Who is a freaking rockstar. And we meet a few times. By now, I have been to the medical complex so many times to see doctors, get tests, and hang out, I have a favorite parking spot and am quickly blowing through sick leave. Doc says he can get me in to surgery in August and then I wouldn't be out too long after.
LOLOLOLOLOLOL What educator takes time off in August?! In higher ed?? And I"m already down staff! That sent my blood pressure rising as high as my eyebrows. We could go round and round on this. Health should be prioritized. But you need to lower your stress. But, and, don't forget, etc. I asked him if I was dying. He said no. I said why don't we schedule a little further out. He said when. I said December.
There is a method to this madness. Madness may be too strong a word, but I am really loving this moment of seeing how many idioms I can fit into one blog post, so....
December may seem far from July. It's not. If it was an emergency, why yes of course, I would do the thing. All I could think about was the Team Smith logistics and operations of 4 people at 3 schools in different towns with 1 dog and everyone has activities and things. And then the work stuff. It was too much to process. Let me get through to December. The weeks between the end of fall finals and MLKDay are the slowest of the year for me in all the ways. It's the slowest time at work, the kids are out of school, the snow days and dark days are easier to weather from my cozy couch and fake fireplace. It is quite peaceful and not stressful. And is that not what everyone was telling me to do? Reduce my stress?
Now that we have a timeframe (have to call later for the actual date), we could focus on the how. Who knew there were so many ways to remove ovaries?! Science is amazing. Dr. Patel laid out all of the ways the surgery could happen. Then I spent probably 20 minutes telling him about the December 2020 experience and how scared I was. Then he spent 10 minutes calming me down and said the December 2024 experience would be different. Then I asked him ok, which of the options did he feel his best at? which was his favorite? Which one was he really good at. His reply? "Oh, All of them."
If there is one person you want to be super confident and a little cocky about their work, it's your surgeon.
He then said, he wasn't sure what was going on in there (the empty womb inside my body) because of the last surgery and there could be scar tissue, and depending how much and where could determine which surgery he did. The plan came down to having two surgeries. First, he would do some incisions and get a good look around to see what was what, then he would decide in that moment how he was going to do it. Was I good with trusting him to make a call on which option would be best? Absolutely!
Decision made. We had a great semester and did all the things, and I built more sick leave and December came and I had the surgery and it was fantastic. The whole experience. From the moment we entered, to the intake in the office, to the prep part where I met every single person who would be working on me and got to have a lovely chat an learn their names and where they are from as they took my vitals and talked me through every step of what was going to happen. To being rolled down the hallway, why yes I would like that extra heated blanket please, thank you so kindly for offering! To being in the room where it happens to the mostly female team who 100% understood what was happening not just from a medical lens, but from a deeper place of having some combination of the same parts and knowing the emotional pull connected to having those parts all gone at a youngish age of 42. Even how the anesthesia was delivered was delightful and not anxious at all the way it was the first time when no one would talk to me and the team of people kept talking around, over, and through me.
The tiniest detail was my favorite. They did not put their masks on until they introduced themselves, smiled, and treated me like a human. Then the masks went on and though I could not see their faces, I knew them. And I felt seen and heard. And the best part? Unlike last time, I woke up with no pain. That first time, in 2020, I woke up to excruciating, debilitating pain that they did not relieve for almost 18 hours. But in the year of our Lord 2024, there was no pain. To be clear, I was not high either. Just completely at peace with no pain. The relief on Matt's face! His anxiety was also quite high, as you can imagine. He wasn't even with me in 2020 (covid protocol), so he was on the phone with me as I screamed and writhed and begged for relief and then would pass out from the pain and drop the phone and a nurse would pick it up and promise to call him, but then no call until I would call again and repeat. Nope, 2024 was luxurious!
I got to go home same day. And I was very sore, but it wasn't painful. I started an estrogen patch the next day. That's a miracle in a 2 sq inch package, and I use these patches twice a week. It's May and I haven't had a migraine since the surgery. My last full on migraine was early December, about a week before the surgery. Life changing! There are a few menopause-ish symptoms, but not that bad. I was already experienving peri with night sweats, insomnia, forgetfulness, and random moments of rage. But all manageable.
In some ways, I wish I had this genetic info in 2020 because I could have had just one surgery. However, that surgery was horrible. Check out one of the images below, where a piece of a fallopian tube was forgotten and left behind in surgery #1.
I'm glad I got to have a do over.
And I learned a new word! Oopherectomy. oo-fur-rec-2-me. Isn't that cute?
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