Thursday, March 6, 2008

Mothballing the Fleet

I'm on the downward slide into the red deluge. I hurt and the heating pad and ibuprofen can't seem to keep up with it - deluge could be here as early as this weekend, or who knows? Even on bcps she's been arriving later and later and lasting longer and longer - impervious to the hormonal manipulation we have been trying to exert. I'm trying to prepare myself for the likelihood of having a hysterectomy this year. Still waffling over giving the lupron a shot - even though knowing it will only postpone the inevitable and the side effects may be as bad or worse as what I deal with already.

We had a big rain at the beginning of this week followed by ice and snow. Phone service in town has been spotty at best since. As a result, my doc couldn't get through on our home phone (got an" all circuits are busy" message which I have been getting off and on all week too whenever I try to call out) and so she tried my cell phone tonight. I didn't get to the cell before it went to voice mail and so missed her call and as a consequence was unable to ask the questions I have been writing down all week. I've been trying to gather as much information as possible on options, things to expect, things to do to prepare - things I can do to help me cope with this while I wait - questions I need answered. You would think more information would provide more comfort. I find the reverse to be true - the more information I gather, the more and more depressed I become. I know I can't live like this for much longer - especially since this is only getting worse and worse and getting there rapidly. (Ah how fickle endometriosis is - sometimes she is slow and deliberate and other times a quick ravenous and pervasive harpie.) I don't know if I can live like "that" either - please, I do not mean to offend anyone who has had to undergo a hysterectomy. I just don't know how to face losing such a huge part of my identity as a woman. Rationally I know that is not all there is to me. So much of the last fifteen years of my life though has focused around this particular organ. I'm a uterus junkie, a habit I don't know how to or just can't quit. At the moment I felt like we were beginning to settle into a less intense relationship, I find I need to re-evaluate and let go, cut myself off in one fell swoop. I tell myself I should be grateful I have time at all - to come to terms, to prepare - as much as anyone can in this situation. I think though - no matter how you arrive at it, it just plain sucks all the way around.

1 comment:

The Town Criers said...

I think hysterectomies are such an emotional trigger beyond the obvious physical consequences. Just wanted to send a hug.