Wednesday, April 18, 2012

The Mind Killer

So remember how my doctor and I were really optimistic about those cells in my vajayjay? Wellllll, it might have been a bit worse than that. I mean, not WORSE worse. What's worse? It's much worse to have cancer now rather than get a high risk result and fer sure cancer in two years. It's way way worse to be dying and have to make a will and do all that adult stuff instead of just going to the doc and having them knock you out so they can scrape all the evil pre-tumor tissue right out of you. So yeah, that second one? I got that.

Well, I did. I had my operation already and thank god that's over. But of course when she told me I needed the LEEP I proceeded to FREAK THE FUCK OUT, stick my fingers in my ears like a nine year old, and generally ignore the situation until the very damn day of the operation. I imposed internet silence on myself because I just didn't want to worry about all the stupid complications and horror stories and “welp, now I have cancer anyways” scenarios that would inevitably pop up (believe me, I went WAY too far about research when I was pregnant and even do a bit too much now that I have my kid and now basically think every bad thing ever is going to happen).

I was able to venture a few questions. My MIL told me a story about when she was a nurse and a woman came in with her two kids and she had cervical cancer and died in, like, six months and she wasn't even thirty because cervical cancer is a young woman's disease and jesus I wish I didn't have that statistic in my head. The moral of that story is to get checked out on the regular because she hadn't. I get my paps on time, yo.

Truth, the LEEP was not THAT bad. I fell asleep without even knowing it, the last thing I remember was thinking the operation table they moved me to was not as comfy as the bedzzzzzz. However, waking up SUCKED SO HARD. I was in a lot of pain, a four on my scale, which is very high for me (I'm crying if I'm at a five, for ref). Also, shaking uncontrollably. Also I guess my blood pressure took a dip and scared the crap out of everybody so I had to get stabilized in a special quiet room where they wouldn't even give me a magazine or anything (they wanted me to rest, go fig).

Since then, things have been okay. Was told to do “pelvic rest” which means...don't do anything down there, we mean it now. Also gross clots coming out of me randomly ewewew and I still have some pretty bad crampy pain even though the surgery was a week ago. WTF. All this after I had my first period in 18 months (crash course in menstrual cups, FTW. Love you Diva Cup!) so its just been one bleedfest after another. Sometimes being a woman just blows. I don't think my husband has been to the doctor in like, years, and he's healthy as a horse.

Also, the days after were an emotional shitstorm. Songs that are not sad getting stuck in my head and then making me cry. Crying at comedies. Anxiety, and lots of it. I'm a stable person, my husband backs me up on that, so when stuff like this starts to happen, we take notice. It was like getting the baby blues all over again. When I mentioned it to my OB, she couldn't say it was anything specific but that since I am quite obviously “sensitive” to anesthesia, it probably had something to do with that. And my menses returning? I guess?

But all this is complaining. I don't have cancer. I probably won't get it now, if ever. For that, I am supremely grateful.