The Storm

I’m happy to say that my hysteroscopy is in the books. Done, done, and done. And lo! I’m still alive!

The night before, I received a call from my doctor’s office that there had been a cancellation. It is the hospital’s policy that all surgeries move up accordingly. So instead of a 9:00 hysteroscopy, I was moved up to 7:40. I successfully avoided panic.

I will admit there was a part of me that believed that this might be my last day on earth. So I tried to enjoy life a little on Thursday. I went to my favorite place for lunch, ordered cake and a latte. For dinner, I ate my favorite kale salad and watched “Scandal.” I sneaked a note into Mr. O’s sock drawer just telling him how much I love him. You know… just in case I DIED. (I’ve officially accepted that I am crazy. For now, anyway.)

The next morning went really well. Since it was so early, the traffic was non existent. We got the hospital in plenty of time. This place is like the freakin’ Taj Mahal of hospitals. When they took our name, we got a beeper (like what you get at Olive Garden.) It buzzed, we were escorted upstairs to the pre-op room. On the way, Mr. O was informed that there were many things to keep him entertained while he waited for me, including an onsite gym. (REALLY? Yes, really.)

Mr. O was stellar. He helped keep me calm and made me laugh. I had a momentary freak out when they put the hospital gown on the bed- it had the same pattern of the ones my mom has been wearing in the ICU for the last 10 months. I took a deep breath, and put it on.

All the nurses were wonderful. They introduced themselves to me and Mr. O and explained the role that they’d play during the procedure. My anesthesiologist was awesome- she explained everything that would happen during the procedure.

Finally, Dr. Petrel arrived. Have I mentioned that she reminds me of my mom, if my mom were a straight-talking RE? I just felt so much more relaxed once she was there. Petrel also explained the procedure, how I’d feel afterwards, and when our post op appointment would be.

The last thing I remembered was moving myself onto the operating table in the OR. And then I woke up. The rest of day was a bit of a blur. I don’t remember talking with Dr. Petrel, but she apparently called Mr. O and explained what happened. There were not one, not two, but THREE polyps up in there. She removed them all and thinks that my uterus looks beautiful. “We are setting the stage nicely,” she told Mr. O.

Once at home, I drifted in and out of sleep for most of the morning. I was still in some pain and experiencing some light bleeding. My appetite was low. Mr. O took excellent care of me, making lunch and dinner, and running to the store for Tylenol.

I committed myself to bed for the rest of the day. Since I knew I’d be immobile, I set myself up with The Roosevelts. What better way to recuperate than with the help of a Ken Burns documentary?! #nerdalert

This is honestly a terrific documentary. It’s a bit more “History Channel” than most of Burns’ documentaries, but the subjects are totally fascinating. Like normal human beings, they faced a shit ton of obstacles. How they survived and overcame them is also what made them.  As you probably know, FDR had polio which he struggled with for the remainder of his life. A nurse once told him Polio was the storm, and he was what remained.

Maybe it was all the drugs or my overall heighten emotional state, but that’s how I think IF is. I don’t believe in the adage “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Nope, sometimes what doesn’t kill you can gut you. IF is the storm. It sucks. It will leave a mark– has left its mark on me. But at the end of this something will remain. I have to work on what that something is.

Now, I don’t think that this will make me president. In fact, I would settle for a totally benign life at this point. Please, bless me with a sleepy life with my darling little family. Leave all that trial by fire shit for something else, will you?

But then I remember that I’m already here. In the middle of the storm. The only way out is through.

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10 comments

  1. julieann081 · September 29, 2014

    I’m glad things went well and you got through it! ❤

    • thecommonostrich · September 30, 2014

      Thanks! There came a point (when I got the IV, actually) where I realized I just had to roll with it. Maybe it was the tremendous nursing staff, but I felt like I was in such good hands. It calmed me down so very much.

      • julieann081 · September 30, 2014

        That’s fabulous!

  2. Twelve Week Eternities · October 2, 2014

    I’m so glad you got through your hysteroscopy and it went well! I remember the night before mine I suddenly was seized with terror that I would go into cardiac arrest while on the operating table, haha. I don’t know why I had the fear, but the day of I felt a little calmer knowing I had no choice, it was happening (and the valium helped too!). I hope you can rest easy now knowing you have a beautiful uterus! 🙂

    • thecommonostrich · October 3, 2014

      YES! There is this moment where you realize you’ve committed to this, and whatever will happen will happen.

      For me, it was when the hooked up the IV. There was no way I was escaping once I was plugged in. 😉

  3. bionicbrooklynite · October 3, 2014

    Oh dear! We’re old enough to be president, and I have entirely neglected to do anything about it! Ah, well. I think I might have been the one to most recently have lost the “who has to run add a Republican” argument anyway.

    I’m just awfully glad you’re not dead. And possessed of such a shiny uterus, to boot!

    • thecommonostrich · October 3, 2014

      There is nothing like watching a documentary about one of the country’s most influential families to make one feel like an under achiever. Luckily, I was still slightly doped up– it took the edge off.

      I am pleased with my new squeaky clean uterus. Is it weird that I’m excited about putting it to good use?

  4. Elizabeth · October 9, 2014

    Glad everything went well. Sounds like you’re all set. The Burns’ documentary is absolutely fantastic. Enjoy it and feel better soon.

    • thecommonostrich · October 10, 2014

      It was a relief that everything went smoothly. I’ve been living in a space where it felt like everything that could go wrong would go wrong… it’s nice when you get surprised, you know?

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