2 Weeks

Two weeks ago, I had surgery to remove my left ovary and the cyst that had taken up residency there. The day before my surgery, we had a winter storm blow through town. The roads were not full of snow, they were full of ice. Bad ice! Thick ice! Like a foot thick of black ice! School was cancelled, and I thought my surgery would surely be postponed as well. But I got the call from the hospital saying that my surgery would go forward the next day, as planned. The nurse on the phone actually told me, "Schools might close because of this weather, but we never close." Good point!

The next morning, Hector drove me to the hospital to start my pre-registration, and then he drove the kids (since school was still closed) to a friend's house. I've never been so thankful to have this cool little feature on my Suburban, that allows for extra traction on icy roads. It felt like my car was reaching out and literally gripping the roads. It was so cool. Anyway, back to the story. It took Hector almost 2 hours to make the 20 mile round trip to my friend's house. I wasn't able to see him before they wheeled me into the operating room, but I managed to hold it all together, kind of... I remember the anesthesiologist telling me that he was giving me some "loopy medicine" to help calm my nerves... nothing major... it wouldn't knock me out or anything... just something to take the edge off. Then he told me that he was going to put an oxygen mask on me. Here again, nothing major.... just oxygen... He told me to relax and that he'd be giving me the anesthesia shortly thereafter. That's the last thing I remember. Just loopy medicine and oxygen, huh???

Anyway, I remember waking up in recovery, trying to open my eyes and thinking to myself that I really wished I could open them more.

"Why can't I open my eyes?"

"You're coming out of anesthesia. Just relax."

"Did I say that out loud?"

"Yes. Now just relax."

"Who are you?"

"I'm your nurse."

2 minutes later...

"Why can't I open my eyes? What's wrong with me? Am I dreaming?"

"You've just had surgery. You're still trying to wake up from the anesthesia. Just relax."

"Am I really saying these things out loud? Because I feel like I'm just thinking them."

"Yes, you really are asking these questions out loud. Would you like me to go get your husband now?"

Do you suppose the nurse was growing tired of me asking the same questions over and over again?

"Yes, please go get my husband."

Supposedly, I asked Hector 2 more times why I couldn't open my eyes all the way, and whether or not I made it through surgery or if I had died. I mean, why couldn't I open my eyes all the way??? The 3rd time I asked him, he just started laughing. And I don't think he ever answered me...

About an hour later, the nurse came in and asked if I was ready to stand up and walk around. What?!?! Seriously?!?! Oops, I said that out loud too... I mean, I'd barely just gotten my eyes open all the way, and this woman wanted me to stand up and walk around now. Seriously?!?! Yes, seriously. So, I got up and walked around, and about an hour later I was on my way home. I slept for about 2 hours, and that's when I woke up, not feeling well at all. Apparently, my body was ready to get rid of the leftover anesthesia. I was sick. Horribly sick. I tried to take some pain medicine, and that made me even more sick. My first 2 days at home after my surgery were rough. I couldn't understand how my belly button, for being such a small body part, could be the source of so much pain.

As I started coming out of my fog more and more, I slowly started to realize that my doctor had NOT taken my request seriously, to do a little liposuction on my tummy, you know, while she was poking around in the general area anyway.

By the 3rd day, I was able to drink broth and keep it down. I took a shower. It was at 4:00 in the afternoon, but I took a shower that day! And by the way, I realized how truly unimportant drying off the lower half of my body was that day. Simply not necessary!

By the 4th day, the ice had started to melt on the roads, and some of my good friends started coming over to visit and to bring my family food, for which we were all extremely grateful. God has blessed us with a wonderful church family and wonderful friends, who have always reached out to us, becoming the arms and legs of Christ, stretching out to us and supporting us in times such as this. It was a great blessing, to say the least.

And well, here we are... 2 weeks since my surgery, and I'm doing a lot better. I'm still a little sore and tender, but doing much better overall. I had my 2 week follow-up appointment with my doctor, and I seem to be healing quite nicely. And let me just say that I was shocked when my doctor asked me if I wanted to see the pictures she took during my surgery. "Uhhhh, YEAH I want to see pictures!!!"

She showed me a picture of my right, healthy ovary first. It was red/pink in color, and about the size of a walnut. Cool picture. THEN..... she flipped the page to the second picture of my left ovary. That's right about the time that I gasped and my jaw hit the floor. My left ovary was grey. And it was huge. The cyst was about the size of a baseball. It was twice the size of my uterus, which I also got to see a picture of. Now folks, before my surgery I went back and forth on whether or not I wanted my doctor to remove my ovary. But I knew in my heart that it needed to be done. I listened to that tiny inner voice (which my mother truly believes is the gift of the Holy Spirit guiding us - which I am truly inclined to believe as well). And guess what? While the cyst itself came back benign, pre-cancerous cells were found in my ovary. I was in the early stages of getting ovarian cancer. My doctor showed me the words... Mucinous Carcinoma. I tried not to Google it. I really did try. But how could I not? She said it over and over again to me, and showed it to me on the papers she was holding. Mucinous Carcinoma...

So I'm reading about it online, and I'm not thinking too much about it, and that's when I get towards the bottom of the paragraph where it says that mortality occurs in 8 - 12% of stage 1 Mucinous Carcinoma patients, and that, "Advanced stage Mucinous Carcinoma is uniformly fatal." Uniformly fatal.

I think it is safe to say that I agree 100% with my doctor when she said that she was so glad we decided to take the ovary now!!! Yes indeed, I am so glad to finally be rid of that bum ovary!