Cut me open….

You would think that for someone who was about to be cut open, I wouldn’t be so calm. The only reason I was emotional was the fact that I wasn’t allowed to eat….. talk about being hangry!!! The fear of the unknown was also real…. like was I going to wake up to no reproductive organs? Melodramatic I know, but I couldn’t help but fear the worst for my future fertility.

My morning consisted of watching shitty day time television, cussing at the fact I couldn’t eat and talking about random stuff to my Mum. My Mother is a saint….. she sat there all day, no complaints, reassuring me I would be ok and trying to take my mind off things by showing me her expensive cart on the iconic, joking that dad would have a fit if she was to ‘accidentally’ press purchase…… she is a mighty fine lady!

Boy did I look sexy in my hospital gown, red fluffy socks and my ass hanging out the back! I waited for bloody ages until the orderly and nurse came to take me away to my fate….. But it didn’t worry me because my gyno is the best doctor ever and I would’ve waited longer, because she’s a total legend! Best bed side manner ever! Rare with Docs these days!

So here I was in the operating room, being poked and prodded with needles, masks… you name it! Was casually talking to a Nurse about her daughter’s archaeology studies when….. Out like a light I went! I don’t know what they gave me, but that shit was good and I want some for when I can’t sleep at night!

If you have ever woken up from general anaesthetic you would know the very bizarre and frightening feeling of laying there with your eyes closed, fully aware of voices and people touching you (In my case, nurses trying to pry my arms down from above my head…… how the f*ck they got there I am still trying to figure out ahah!), but unable to move, open your eyes or speak……. its truly terrifying and luckily within a few minutes I was able to grunt, so that was a relieving feeling…… I wasn’t damaged (phew)!

The next few hours I was in and out of consciousness, talking to mum and dropping out mid sentence….. I was like a sleepy drunk version of myself but in incredible pain, with a belly that looked convincingly 5 months pregnant! Apparently, I had a quick visit from my bf, although I can’t remember much, he was preoccupied with other things and soon enough left (now ex bf)….. as you can see I was obviously a high priority!

We waited for hours for the gyno to come out and tell us how my operation went….. the nurse looked concerned, but I was too busy eating horrible hospital sandwiches to notice. Expecting a “everything went well” speech when the Doc arrived, but instead had words thrown at me like “uterine abnormality”, “high incidences of miscarriage”, “trouble conceiving”, “not enough room to carry a baby to term”, “small cervix”, “only one ovary works”. My world was spinning……. not just because of the drugs, but I was in shock….. Thank god for Mum who was onto the questions and thank god for my gyno who drew me diagrams and held my hand.

I was discharged and Mum and I drove home in disbelief, stuffing our faces with junk food we bought from the servo. Mum blamed herself for me not developing properly, which nearly made me cry, because there is no way this is anyones fault! It just happens and sometimes its hard to see the positive, but things happen for a reason. I am thankful everyday that it wasn’t more sinister…… you need to be grateful for things, even when you feel like you are stuck between a rock and a hard place.

 

The start…..

Sweating, nauseous and crippling right lower abdominal pain. I was out for dinner with my family, psyching myself up for a trip to the hospital, for what I thought could be the end of my appendix.

It was the most intense pain I have ever experienced. Drugs were not working, heat packs were recruited and my appetite was completely gone. Unlike me, I’m the hungry 99% of the time!

What was to come was months of scans, expensive doctors appointments and a few dismissive doctors who were convinced it was all in my head. The first scan showed an ovarian cyst, follicular and completely normal.

Side note: let me just say that having to have a full bladder for a pelvic ultrasound was extremely horrible and at one point I was convinced I was going to wet myself in the waiting room. Would have been a low point! But the most awkward part was having an ultrasound stick inserted into me, while an old man moved it around like a f*cking gear stick, trying to find my ovary (eye roll).

I was advised to wait it out for 2 months, with the hope that it would sort itself out. But after 8 weeks of hell, another scan showed that the cyst had changed shape and had a thick septum, causing the doctor to be concerned that it was becoming sinister fast. I was referred to a gyno and was booked in for surgery to remove what we thought was an ovarian cyst.

As someone who has always had a strong maternal instinct, the possibility something ruining my chances to conceive ripped the heart from my chest! Thank god for my Mother and Father, my rocks, the support was the only thing keeping me going!

All of this was going on while I was struggling to get through the second semester of my first year at university. Plus suffering from anxiety and depression, experimenting with medications to find the right ones. The fact that my Mother had been diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015, caused greater anxiety, as we were not sure whether I possessed the BRCA gene.

Looking back at the last part of 2016 I have learnt a lot about myself, especially my resilience. I think that life constantly throws shit at you and you have to try your best to dodge it and but its ok to get hit, as long as you get back up and start running again.