Snip Snip

On Tuesday I went to the hospital for day surgery to get both of my ovaries removed. This allows me to forgo the nasty injection into my abdomen, and it offers me the chance of increasing survival. The morning started off with having to give myself my own enema. I know, too much information, but I want to be as candid as possible for that one person who might read my blog someday who is going through what I have had to go through. It helps to be a bit prepared walking into a situation. It can also help relieve some anxiety. Okay, back to the enema (no pun intended). The purpose of the enema is to deflate your bowel to reduce the possibility of nicking it , or it getting in the way during surgery. The actual bottle looks like a hair dye bottle. Stick it up, squeeze in all of the liquid, lay down with your arse in the air for as long as you can stand it up to 10 minutes and voila.

They also require you to come in with a urine sample to confirm that you are not pregnant - there is nothing like walking around with your little brown bag.

With my right arm off limits due to lymphoma (lymphatic swelling), I knew they would have a hard time finding a vein. The fact that I had been fasting more than 12 hours also didn't lend well to the situation. It took them six tries to find a vein. I am still not totally sure why they just didn't use my port. My arm is fairly bruised, but is healing quickly.

Coming out of surgery wasn't a pleasant experience. I remember after my lumpectomy my throat was dry, but I was really relaxed and sleepy. This time, I was major agitated (didn't know how to lay, my legs were fidgety...), I had the rigors (shaking and cold), and I felt like I couldn't breath (my throat felt closed-up).

And then it hit me. My surgery was running late and Carman was to curl at 3pm. Our friend Dr. Bud was to be my back-up to driver to take me home. I was scared. I was in no shape for Bud to take over. Carman was holding my straw so I could drink and my describing word I was using to explain to the nurses of how I was feeling was 'funky'. Some gasping cries tried to communicate to Carman that I really didn't want him to leave. He assured me he didn't want to leave me either and he wouldn't be curling.

Do you remember when I got out of my lumpectomy surgery how I came-to saying how much I love camping? This time I am pretty sure I came-to saying "I just go out of a Yoga class"! I haven't taken a yoga class in years.

Once they pumped some gravol and T3 into me it lessened the 'funky' feeling. They were going to give me morphine, but Carman was quick to suggest it wasn't a good idea.

I was amazing that an hour later I was in the truck heading home not feeling too bad - weird.

Today (Monday), my bellybutton has a colourful bruise of green and purple. With laperscopic surgery they make an incision in the bellybutton, a small one about three inches off to the left of the bellybutton and a two inch incision by the pubic bone. I was never in any paid or much discomfort. It mostly felt like some menstrual cramps and fogginess from the drugs.

I am not sure if the second wave of menopause is about to hit, but so far I haven't had as many hot flashes in the night. The joys of menopause at 32. I think there should be some type of program which provides young women going through menopause a break. Like a free spa day or cooling blanket in the mail and certainly 10% off anywhere we shop. Hey, it doesn't hurt to dream.