Constantly Under the Knife

I doubt there will be room anymore on those forms where the doctor asks about previous surgeries. I feel like I have donated my body to science while still living. It began when I was 24, I think. I had all four of my wisdom teeth removed one night. The top two came out easily, but the dentist had to cut into my gums and use a saw in order to remove the bottom two. There was so much swelling and gauze . . . and yet I went to work the next day. I was working as an Administrative Assistant for a Dean at a School of Nursing at the time. Answering phones was a bit challenging with the gauze and swelling. You would think they would have sent me home, but I learned that Schools of Nursing and compassion aren't automatically linked. 

Later on, there was a questionable mole that my doctor wanted to check for malignancy. Thankfully, it was benign . . . and looking back, that was my gateway hospital procedure. Less than a year later, I had my tonsils and adenoids removed after suffering through years of chronic infections.

When we were trying to start our family, and it was taking longer than we expected, I had a procedure done to make sure there was no obstruction in my fallopian tubes. The procedure only involved injecting a dye, so no sedation was offered - just, "You will experience a bit of discomfort . . ." Understatement! There was no blockage . . . but that wasn't the last reproductive procedure I'd experience. Not in the least. 

When I was pregnant with Serena, my OB was concerned that Serena wasn't growing fast enough, so she induced me a month early. Serena was fine, but the placenta didn't detach from the wall of my uterus after she was born, so Dr. Falzon had to manually remove it. There was so much bleeding, and I remember my teeth chattering so hard that I was afraid I'd bit my tongue or break my teeth (tooth fracturing would come later, in addition to a crown and nightguard, because I grind my teeth in my sleep). I lost my peripheral vision and almost passed out. I didn't get to hold Serena for very long after she was born.

A year later, when I gave birth to Cairo, I wasn't fully dilated when my doctor told me to start pushing, so my cervix ripped and caused, again, so much bleeding. I didn't get to hold Cairo for very long after he was born either, and poor Dishon was left alone in a room that looked like a crime scene after they rapidly whisked me away. Again with the chattering teeth, so bad that they had me bite on a roll of gauze, and as I as going under for the D&C so she could repair my cervix, I heard the word hysterectomy. I was sure that I'd wake up with my organs gone . . . It turns out that I just happened to have the procedure in the room where the hysterectomy supplies were. Turns out this was another bit of foreshadowing for me. 

I don't remember what made me question what was wrong this time . . . something not quite right with my reproductive organs. We lived in a new community, and I had a new gynecologist. I thought I was all done with ultrasounds after Cairo. She found ovarian cysts that needed to be surgically removed. We decided that we were good with our two children, so I asked her to cauterize my fallopian tubes during the surgery. The surgery was laparoscopic, and she found two more cysts hiding under the three the ultrasound revealed - they were all the size of grapes.

Unfortunately, that surgery didn't bring me permanent relief. There were still problems, and Dr. Chen thought that I had endometriosis. I was put through medical menopause twice, which did bring some relief, but it didn't last beyond the treatment period. The impact of the treatment on my bones was too much to keep repeating, so I had another procedure to get rid of endometrial implants which, as it turns out, were not there.  I can't begin to explain how frustrating this all was. 

Soon after that, I started to experience intense dizzy spells, and difficulty breathing. I thought the dizzy spells might have been low blood sugar as a result of my diabetic meds, but that wasn't it. I went through SO many tests - chest X-rays, MRI, CT scan . . . my bloodwork showed that my iron levels were dangerously low. Strangely enough, as I consulted with the doctor who was to perform a colonoscopy to see if there was internal bleeding, he just so happened to ask me if I had a heavy menstrual cycle. Turns out that was what was causing the iron deficiency (I was so happy to not have to go ahead with the colonoscopy 10 years early!).

So we addressed the heavy menstrual cycle with an IUD, and I was SO pleased to finally have relief from all the accidents I was having at work and the diaperesque menstrual supplies I had to keep buying . . . but, trying not to be too graphic, it seemed as though I was losing the IUD. Turns out that I was actually losing my uterus. It prolapsed, and I ended up having a partial hysterectomy to address the prolapse.  That was absolutely the most difficult of my surgeries to recover from. 

Side note: It is very important to be aware that withdrawal from the IUD causes a level of blood loss that I was not anticipating, and it truly terrified me. I'll leave it at that. 

I hoped that I was all set with surgeries after this, but on Thanksgiving morning after that July surgery, it was clear that something else was wrong. I went to a urologist to find out why there was blood in my urine (there really shouldn't have been with no uterus). . . and after ANOTHER round of tests and ultrasounds, it turns out that I had developed a jagged kidney stone that was lacerating my ureter, and my calcium levels were abnormally high. I was given the option of passing the stone, which I was completely disinterested in.  The stone was surgically pulverized, and I had a stent inserted from my kidney through my bladder and down to the urethra to make sure any remaining parts of the stone could be eliminated without pain (I HATED that stent! I had it for a week, and it was such a weird feeling!). The hope was that my calcium levels would return to normal after the procedure. They didn't. Something was still wrong.

Another round of tests revealed that I had a tumor on my one of my parathyroid glands (the parathyroid glands regulate calcium in the blood), and I had to have the parathyroid gland and tumor removed. Sigh. That procedure took place last June. My calcium levels are normal, the tumor was benign, and all that remains is a scar on my neck.

I am hopeful that I won't have to have any more procedures or surgeries for the rest of my days . . . and as I prepare to revise my novel at the retreat (two weeks from today!) it makes me wonder what role health conditions and hospital stays may play as I create the narratives for my characters.