I'm not even in the mood to blog.
But I feel like its long-overdue.
And I am not able to sleep currently, blah blah blah!
Tomorrow is IUD day. (I keep texting 'UTI' instead, which of course has a few very confused...) I am torn, my feelings towards the whole idea. My body and mind, also torn. My anxiety and my uterus are torn as to which will KILL me first.
My uterus feeling like shit is not new news. And this is why the IUD was suggested in the first place. It has now been a little over a year since my surgery, and after 8 or so months the symptoms came rolling back in. Considering I'd been taking my pill daily (avoiding a period which is supposed to help avoid the Endo growth) it was instant discouragement that I came back so quickly. I'd be more then happy to get under that little knife again! It was well worth it, the months of pure normalcy I felt afterwards. Alas, that apparently poses risks and so I am now set to try one more thing before we go there again.
Preventing the growth of a (obviously handsome) baby in my tummy before I'm ready for a (obviously handsome) baby is very important to me. Also, avoiding Endo symptoms is very important to me (and everyone who has anything to do with me). So after months of deliberation I have caved to the whole IUD thing.
Why did I need convincing, if it will prevent babies and likely (hopefully) having a period ever again? The idea of a foreign object permanently residing inside my body just throws me off. My surgeon tried telling me (you have to picture it in a heavy Indian accent), 'this [his necklace] is a foreign object and these [my earrings] is a foreign object and they don't hurt you!' I understand, Sir, but your necklace and my earrings are also not INSIDE MY VAGINA.
Men. They will never understand.
I just figure that for the most part, we are made with all the parts we need already inside. I think that doctors using pig valves to fix a patient's heart makes a little more sense, because that's somewhat natural. But I giant plastic T with a tail, that is not in any way natural. And for all I know, it could want to be in there even less then I want it to be in there! And that is the last thing I need, thank you very much. My surgeon claims that none of his patients have every rejected an IUD, but that's never stopped me before!
Honestly, I learned after Googling 'laparoscopy' the night before my surgery (and then having a small to moderate sized panic attack), that learning about possible negative side effects is even less necessary then learning long division. I really do know how highly unlikely it is that this thing is going to rip a hole through my uterus and cause me to bleed out in my sleep. But it would completely creep me out if I were to suddenly be walking around with fake boobs inside my chest. And yes, over the last while I have considered what my anxiety may look like the day it realizes there is a human being growing inside of me. This thing has the potential to be in there for the next 5 years! And I'm picturing myself being able to feel it if I squish my tummy real hard! (Barfy face)
As I mull over the anxiety that this teeny procedure and teeny apparatus is causing, my uterus cramps itself into a teeny knot, and I quickly remember the point behind it all. If I don't fight off this killer IUD-related anxiety, my uterus is going to be the death of me instead. This last week I have reminded myself multiple times, 'this is the last one!' A menstrual cycle is what makes the Endometrial cells hurt so badly, and the IUD is supposed to retard my cycle. No more gross periods equals no more Endometriosis equals no more uncomfy tampons equals no more cramps and nausea equals no more sick days equals no more anxiety! The savings on feminine hygiene products alone should make me more excited for tomorrow morning.
Maybe if you saw the size of the box that this IUD came in from the pharmacy, you'd think I was at least a little less crazy! It's not bad enough that you have to lay on a cold table while some guy works a piece of plastic all the way up into your uterus, but you also have to pick the thing up (the $500 thing) from the pharmacy days before, and try not to have a panic attack while this giant box sits on your desk staring at you all day?! I'd like to open it up and reassure myself that half of it is just packaging, but then I'm paranoid that there isn't enough packaging inside, and germs and bug would go rushing in once a seal is broken.
Huhhhhhh.
I need to just go to bed. You have to shove drugs up there the night before, to prepare the cervix for insertion. Just in case you were uncomfortable enough, I mean. So falling asleep should also keep me from imagining the walls of my girl-organs slowly melting...
(Barfy face)
UPDATE: Though I'd typed this last night, I was saving it to post today after the fact, planning to end with 'And alllll went well!' I thought that'd be a funny ending, accepting that I was all stressed and nutso over nothing.
However.
I can't even describe the kind of pain that exploded inside of me body. I'd taken the pre-meds and I took Advil 20 minutes prior as suggested, and I'd taken an Ativan as suggested by myself. And I have that rare kind of boyfriend who doesn't complain about sitting in a little doctors office with his weirdo girlfriend. We were laughing, we were watching my 3 year old sister get attacked in a Myrtle Beach tub, taking funny pictures of the faces I’d probably make during the procedure, and I was relaxed.
For me, the best way to deal with any mounting anxiety is to joke about it and laugh it off, so I was making jokes with the surgeon, laughing off my anxiety, and I was feeling brave. And then it started. That scary crunching tube goes in first, fine. Then he used some stick to clean things out, fine. But when the instrument went in there, it was an instant and outrageous pain, like I had never felt before. Pain that made me call for a garbage can, and throwing up is when the panic kicked in hard. And that was only part 1! He still had to get in there once more, and the doctor and the lovely nurse and my poor boyfriend were telling me to let him just do it and get over with so it could just be over. And their logic was logical, but it takes more then talk to convince me to welcome that pain again, when my anxious brain is so sure that another round will legitimately kill me.
I took more Ativan, which I think I threw up, and then when I made it into the bathroom my boyfriend brought me Gravol and Imodium.
We spent a good half extra hour in that office, before I was ok to stand up and make my way home to a Popsicle and a good, good nap. I'm anxious to go into work tomorrow. There is still an utter ache inside of me, it hurts when I walk and when I breathe. I'm anxious to find out whether or not this ordeal will be worth it. I will not settle for this ache, for more then a week. At least my Endo pain an nausea was on and off, and only really bad around my period. So far, this pain is constant, and I'll be completely drained if this continues much longer.
Ps. I put huge tampons up there on a regular basis. And an even larger penis has been up in there! So how the hell does a teeny instrument inserting a teeny piece of plastic, cause SO MUCH PAIN?!!
I'm going to end this now, before I start ranting about how unfair it is to be a woman. And then I may never stop. I mean, c’mon.
Fucking girl parts.
Tomorrow is IUD day. (I keep texting 'UTI' instead, which of course has a few very confused...) I am torn, my feelings towards the whole idea. My body and mind, also torn. My anxiety and my uterus are torn as to which will KILL me first.
My uterus feeling like shit is not new news. And this is why the IUD was suggested in the first place. It has now been a little over a year since my surgery, and after 8 or so months the symptoms came rolling back in. Considering I'd been taking my pill daily (avoiding a period which is supposed to help avoid the Endo growth) it was instant discouragement that I came back so quickly. I'd be more then happy to get under that little knife again! It was well worth it, the months of pure normalcy I felt afterwards. Alas, that apparently poses risks and so I am now set to try one more thing before we go there again.
Preventing the growth of a (obviously handsome) baby in my tummy before I'm ready for a (obviously handsome) baby is very important to me. Also, avoiding Endo symptoms is very important to me (and everyone who has anything to do with me). So after months of deliberation I have caved to the whole IUD thing.
Why did I need convincing, if it will prevent babies and likely (hopefully) having a period ever again? The idea of a foreign object permanently residing inside my body just throws me off. My surgeon tried telling me (you have to picture it in a heavy Indian accent), 'this [his necklace] is a foreign object and these [my earrings] is a foreign object and they don't hurt you!' I understand, Sir, but your necklace and my earrings are also not INSIDE MY VAGINA.
Men. They will never understand.
I just figure that for the most part, we are made with all the parts we need already inside. I think that doctors using pig valves to fix a patient's heart makes a little more sense, because that's somewhat natural. But I giant plastic T with a tail, that is not in any way natural. And for all I know, it could want to be in there even less then I want it to be in there! And that is the last thing I need, thank you very much. My surgeon claims that none of his patients have every rejected an IUD, but that's never stopped me before!
Honestly, I learned after Googling 'laparoscopy' the night before my surgery (and then having a small to moderate sized panic attack), that learning about possible negative side effects is even less necessary then learning long division. I really do know how highly unlikely it is that this thing is going to rip a hole through my uterus and cause me to bleed out in my sleep. But it would completely creep me out if I were to suddenly be walking around with fake boobs inside my chest. And yes, over the last while I have considered what my anxiety may look like the day it realizes there is a human being growing inside of me. This thing has the potential to be in there for the next 5 years! And I'm picturing myself being able to feel it if I squish my tummy real hard! (Barfy face)
As I mull over the anxiety that this teeny procedure and teeny apparatus is causing, my uterus cramps itself into a teeny knot, and I quickly remember the point behind it all. If I don't fight off this killer IUD-related anxiety, my uterus is going to be the death of me instead. This last week I have reminded myself multiple times, 'this is the last one!' A menstrual cycle is what makes the Endometrial cells hurt so badly, and the IUD is supposed to retard my cycle. No more gross periods equals no more Endometriosis equals no more uncomfy tampons equals no more cramps and nausea equals no more sick days equals no more anxiety! The savings on feminine hygiene products alone should make me more excited for tomorrow morning.
Maybe if you saw the size of the box that this IUD came in from the pharmacy, you'd think I was at least a little less crazy! It's not bad enough that you have to lay on a cold table while some guy works a piece of plastic all the way up into your uterus, but you also have to pick the thing up (the $500 thing) from the pharmacy days before, and try not to have a panic attack while this giant box sits on your desk staring at you all day?! I'd like to open it up and reassure myself that half of it is just packaging, but then I'm paranoid that there isn't enough packaging inside, and germs and bug would go rushing in once a seal is broken.
Huhhhhhh.
I need to just go to bed. You have to shove drugs up there the night before, to prepare the cervix for insertion. Just in case you were uncomfortable enough, I mean. So falling asleep should also keep me from imagining the walls of my girl-organs slowly melting...
(Barfy face)
UPDATE: Though I'd typed this last night, I was saving it to post today after the fact, planning to end with 'And alllll went well!' I thought that'd be a funny ending, accepting that I was all stressed and nutso over nothing.
However.
I can't even describe the kind of pain that exploded inside of me body. I'd taken the pre-meds and I took Advil 20 minutes prior as suggested, and I'd taken an Ativan as suggested by myself. And I have that rare kind of boyfriend who doesn't complain about sitting in a little doctors office with his weirdo girlfriend. We were laughing, we were watching my 3 year old sister get attacked in a Myrtle Beach tub, taking funny pictures of the faces I’d probably make during the procedure, and I was relaxed.
For me, the best way to deal with any mounting anxiety is to joke about it and laugh it off, so I was making jokes with the surgeon, laughing off my anxiety, and I was feeling brave. And then it started. That scary crunching tube goes in first, fine. Then he used some stick to clean things out, fine. But when the instrument went in there, it was an instant and outrageous pain, like I had never felt before. Pain that made me call for a garbage can, and throwing up is when the panic kicked in hard. And that was only part 1! He still had to get in there once more, and the doctor and the lovely nurse and my poor boyfriend were telling me to let him just do it and get over with so it could just be over. And their logic was logical, but it takes more then talk to convince me to welcome that pain again, when my anxious brain is so sure that another round will legitimately kill me.
I took more Ativan, which I think I threw up, and then when I made it into the bathroom my boyfriend brought me Gravol and Imodium.
We spent a good half extra hour in that office, before I was ok to stand up and make my way home to a Popsicle and a good, good nap. I'm anxious to go into work tomorrow. There is still an utter ache inside of me, it hurts when I walk and when I breathe. I'm anxious to find out whether or not this ordeal will be worth it. I will not settle for this ache, for more then a week. At least my Endo pain an nausea was on and off, and only really bad around my period. So far, this pain is constant, and I'll be completely drained if this continues much longer.
Ps. I put huge tampons up there on a regular basis. And an even larger penis has been up in there! So how the hell does a teeny instrument inserting a teeny piece of plastic, cause SO MUCH PAIN?!!
I'm going to end this now, before I start ranting about how unfair it is to be a woman. And then I may never stop. I mean, c’mon.
Fucking girl parts.
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