Let's Get a Little Personal...

I wasn't sure I wanted to write an entry on the topic I'm about to write one on. While any blog post tends to have some degree of intimacy involved for the writer, this one feels exceptionally so. It has to do with some recent personal health news and the challenges that news will bring to my life.

Let me preface the rest of this entry by stating that I am not someone who is on board with posting the intimate details of bodily functions - or dysfunctions - on social media sites. I have seen status updates on Facebook that involve the poster's bowel movements in great detail. I have also seen updates on recent gynecological visits or numerous bodily disasters of the poster's children. I believe those posts belong in the "Overshare" category. I can't imagine any of their friends signing onto Facebook thinking, "I wonder what kind of poo So-and-So's kid had today. Thank goodness for Facebook or I might spend all day wondering about it."

So, I will do my best to avoid any boundary-crossing information. But I am facing a lot of changes over the next year, and it can't hurt to reach out in case someone else knows exactly where I am. And might have some suggestions or guidance for me.

Here's the Cliff's notes version of my situation: I have (probably) benign tumors called fibroids growing in my uterus, causing it to be the same size as a woman who is in her third or fourth month of pregnancy. Because of their size, the doctor feels that doing nothing is not an option. Instead, she believes my best option is six months of a drug treatment that will trick my body into menopause. This should cause the fibroids to shrink and then she will perform surgery to remove them.

Pretty straightforward. However.

The drug will likely come with side effects. It is, after all, telling my body that it's in menopause. Potentially, I can experience hot flashes, depression, foggy thinking, dizziness, headaches, nausea, etc. The list goes on. Some people have very mild reactions, some quit after a month because they're in so much discomfort. The surgery is also less than clear-cut at this point. It depends on how well the drug works, for one thing. If it doesn't have much effect, I face the possibility of a hysterectomy.

Now, surgery itself is kind of terrifying. I know people do it everyday and are fine. But people get hit by cars everyday or get papercuts everyday. Doesn't mean I have any inclination to do it. But since it's a necessary thing, okay. I can do it.

However.

I have never handled well the feeling of being left out of something. (Except surgery.) And to go into this believing I'm getting one surgery, but knowing there's a chance I'll end up with something more drastic is not a good feeling. I don't want, at age 30 or 31, to have the option of carrying a baby taken from me. (Quick thanks to my sister, though, for offering to step up to the plate on that one if needed.) While I'm not in a relationship right now, and I'm in no rush to get pregnant by any means, I'd like to think the option is there for me if I want it.

So, those are the upcoming challenges. Before I can even get to them, I have the challenge of figuring out to pay for all these things with no insurance and a job that does not come with sick days. I finally find a job where I'm not bored to death all day and now I'm not sure how I can keep it.

I have a lot of fears: Will I feel like myself with tricksy drugs messing up my hormones? Will the side effects make me feel less like a woman? Will they interfere with my daily life? Am I going to go through all of this only to have it not work and wind up losing an important part of what makes me a woman? How am I going to feel after the surgery? What if it goes worse than anyone had expected? And did I forget to mention that after everything, the damn things are probably just going to grow back anyway?

But on the days when the fears threaten to be overwhelming, I try to remember that I have wonderful people around me to help. I can't imagine trying to do something like this in LA, with my family across the country. True, the health insurance I had before I left would really be nice right about now. But I wouldn't trade my support system in to get it back. I'm not looking for sympathy right now. And especially not pity. But I could use some good thoughts and some company here and there. I am determined not to dwell on the negative. Those people never get better anyway. But I know there'll be days where that's easier said than done. And on those days, I wouldn't say no to anyone who wanted to treat me to a Potbelly sandwich or a nice walk. Or a walk and a Potbelly sandwich. Or a massage. And a Potbelly sandwich. 

:)