katedownunder

[katedownunder]

No more eating lollies in the toilet.

When I was around 12, I remember awkwardly trying to change over a sanitary pad in our bathroom. It was the summer school holidays before I was to start high school and Mother Nature had decided that at 12 years old, I was old enough to be a woman.   As I wrestled awkwardly with the plastic paper, I heard my younger brother yell out “MUM!!! KATIE’S EATING LOLLIES IN THE TOILET!!”. I can’t remember what my mum told my brother I was doing, I just remember being so embarrassed that he heard me opening up a pad.

Just before I had my operation, my mum (who also had a hysterectomy however much later in life that I did), told me the 6 weeks recovery would fly by and after that I wouldn’t know myself and would be so happy I did it.

While the 6 weeks at times did feel like time was on go slow, she was right about being so happy I did it. I’m now 6 weeks post operation and back to normal activities and can honestly say that I wish I’d done this years ago.  

I’m now out of the 6 week mandatory “do nothing but watch Netflix” stage and am back doing all the things I’d missed like going to barre class, swimming in the pool and taking my dog for long walks. Heading back to barre I was excited but hesitant about my first class so didn’t push myself too hard, but was pleasantly surprised that in the days after my first class back my stomach didn’t hurt at all so I’m already pretty confident that I can ramp it up in my next class.

Heading back to work after the 4 weeks off was also not as bad as I had thought it would be. My Doctor had suggested that I go on “light duties” and work from home and/or do half days to ease back into it, but I went right back to full time work with no issues. That could have been a combination of excitement to be out of the house, and also that I only had to work for two weeks before having another two weeks off for the Christmas holidays.  I was pretty tired after my first week back, but it’s hard to say if that was thanks to the operation recovery or just that I came back to a full workload.

Physically, I would say my body is 95% back to normal. The 5% is still a swollen belly I’m rocking, but I can see it’s going down more and more each day so I don’t think it will be around for much longer. My Doctor told me it would be swollen for 6-8 weeks and based on how it’s deflating I’d say that will be about right.

Part of the reason I started this blog was to normalise talking about periods and give women confidence to talk to their GP if they have irregular periods and know there are solutions out there. I would love for all those young girls being “blessed” with their first period over this summer to not care if their little brother thinks they’re eating lollies in the toilet and react with a “don’t hate me cause you ain’t me” rather than being ashamed.

The other reason I started this blog was to document what the recovery was like, and also share my experiences with the highs and the lows of the procedure and recovery for others considering the procedure.

Since starting this blog I’ve had guys tell me they learnt things about girls and periods. I’ve had friends tell me they’re going to talk to their GP because they don’t think their periods are normal. It may only be a small handful of people I’ve encouraged to have these uncomfortable conversations, but from little things big things grow.

For me now, there will be no more eating lollies in the toilet ever again as I’ll never have to experience a period again or need to have a pap smear (don’t hate me cause you ain’t me). I’ll never have to experience period pain. Never have to be uncomfortable again.

[katedownunder]

To infinity and beyond.

It’s hard to believe but it’s been 4 weeks since my operation, and it’s only one sleep till I go back to work.

Overall I’m feeling pretty good about my recovery. My pain is minimal now and more or less feels like I just have a sore stomach from an ab workout. The pain is only bad if I accidentally move in an odd way. I’ve also managed to drive a few times so I’m feeling confident about driving to work tomorrow.

I technically have 2 weeks left of my official recovery time before I can do all the fun stuff like go for a swim, go to the gym, lift anything heavy, start doing housework etc however I thought I’d do a summary of what I learnt over the four weeks while it’s fresh in my mind.

What went well

Pre-organising lots of things to do to keep me occupied. I had colouring books, books to read, puzzles which I loved doing and were a nice break from watching TV. However with that being said, having Netflix and Stan was a lifesaver for the first week when I really wasn’t up for much other than sitting (also I was on pretty strong drugs then so couldn’t manage much else). I also used the time to do most of our Christmas shopping online which was fun, researching things and then waiting for the deliveries to arrive. A bonus was then I was guaranteed a visitor in the delivery person that day.

Wearing bike pants was awesome. It’s summer here so I’d made sure I had lots of smock/loose style dresses which didn’t really work. I thought they would be great to wear nice and roomy, however I found my tummy was so sensitive that the fabric brushing against it felt like it was on fire. I found some high waisted bike pants in the back of my cupboard and pretty much lived in them. They supported my tummy really well and were really comfortable even if they were super short. I’m sure I scared a few of our delivery guys wondering if I was actually wearing pants at all but hey I was comfortable and it was hot (one day it was 35 degrees!).

For the first week my husband would cut up fruit salad for me to eat and make me salads for lunch before he went to work which was really good. I was really conscious to only have healthy food in the house as I knew I would be sitting and not exercising for 6 weeks. I think this worked well as there was a few times (read: a LOT of times) that I went to the pantry looking for junk food and I know I would have just kept eating and eating out of boredom if it was there.

Having upper body strength helped big time. Pre-operation I was working out 4-5 times a week and am thankful for this. When they say you can’t move, you really can’t move. You can’t get out of a bed, you can’t sit in a chair/stand up from the chair. Basically you can’t do anything without using your abs. Because I’d built up my arm strength it made it so much easier to move around comfortably.

Having so many friends come to visit me was also amazing. It really broke up the day/weeks and I loved catching up with them. It made me feel less housebound and like I was in quarantine when they came to visit.

What I would change if I had to do it all again

I would have bought some higher waisted underwear. Not that my underwear is super low cut, but the waistband did seem to sit right along the cut line. I’d asked my Doctor before the operation if I should buy higher waisted underwear (from tips I’d read online) and she said no, but I wish I had. For the first 2 weeks I needed to have some padding (bandages/tissues etc) to stop my underwear rubbing against the cut.

I would have organised for a house cleaner. Again, this was something I wanted to do but my husband talked me out of it. I really wish that I had still done it. He was great and said he would do all the housework as long as I told him what needed to be done. I hate telling him what to do to clean so in the end I didn’t say anything and things got missed. Not a big deal in the scope of first world problems, but I think it may have made it easier as I would sneakily clean when he was at work which made the pain worse.

I asked my Doctor what to do physically for my recovery at home, including when to walk, how far to walk etc but I didn’t talk to her about the psychological side. I wish I had asked more about this and possible things I may feel and how to deal with them. This part of the recovery surprised me and was strange to deal with not knowing if it was just me or it was normal (thanks to reddit forums I found out it was pretty normal).

I would have stocked the house with all the medication I’d need for my recovery and known what to take and when. Because I left the hospital early and had no idea what to take and when, I found out the hard way that free styling medication isn’t the best way to go about it. I would also have bought some pear juice and Actilax to have ready to go when I got home. After the operation you don’t have a bowel movement for at least 3-5 days (TMI I know, and it’s as bad as you think, if not worse…) and having pear juice and taking a shot of Actilax everyday helps speed this up and make it more comfortable when it does happen. Well, as comfortable as it can be.

I wouldn’t be so hard on myself. It frustrated me that I couldn’t do anything to speed up the recovery which caused me anxiety when I really didn’t need to worry about it. I  weighed myself every day obsessively to track my weight gain, which now I’m feeling better I can see wasn’t the most healthy thing to be doing. I was also so focused on being ok (“I’m fine!”) that I lost sight that I just had major surgery and it was ok to not be ok. Hindsight is a wonderful thing and it’s easy to reflect back now, but I wish I was a little easier on myself.

What I’m loving four weeks post operation

All the support I had from some many amazing people. From flowers, phone calls, check in texts, thoughtful gifts to entertain me, visits even when they were crazy busy, everything was overwhelming and made me feel so loved. I’m #blessed to have such a great support network and can’t imagine how hard it would have been to do without them all.

Going to the bathroom and there is no blood there. Holy moly is this awesome. I get it’s weird how excited this still makes me a few weeks later but it’s still a shock that there is nothing there.

This overall feeling of being free. It’s hard to explain but now I’m 90% of the way recovered, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and if anything, I wish I’d had this operation sooner.

I’ve been asked a few times if I feel any less of a woman now I’ve had some of my bits taken out. The short answer is no. The longer answer is just as you’re no less of a person if you loose a leg, have your wisdom teeth out, or have your gallbladder removed, my insides don’t define who I am. I believe that what parts you have inside and out don’t define who you are. Only you can do that.

As for me now, I’m defining myself as a strong woman who has taken back control of her body. Her physical and mental health, and is ready to kick some serious butt in this world pain free.

[katedownunder]

It’s not a tumour.

On Monday I had my two week check in with my Doctor and it’s all going according to plan. She said I’m recovering really well, even calling me a model patient. Competitive goal with myself to recover asap achieved.

It was a pretty quick check in (maybe 8 mins total), but in that time she did a physical exam and talked me through what I’d been experiencing over the last two weeks. I was relieved to hear everything is really normal, including the pains in the weird spots and my stomach still being numb in parts. She said these are all perfectly normal and may be this way for 6-8 weeks after the operation and I’ll always have a numb feeling about the width of a finger above my cut line.

I did have a slight bump in my recovery which was a (forced) learning curve. I bullied my husband into taking me out on Saturday because I was going crazy being house bound. At first I told him I just wanted to go to one shop. On the drive over there I upgraded to needing to go to two shops. When we parked the car it was three. When we got out and started walking around I think it ended up being five and an hour of walking around. While I was walking around I seemed fine, maybe a little slower than normal and it hurt a bit but nothing really more than if I’d done a really intense ab session at the gym. Plus I was in shopping heaven so really could have kept going even if I lost a leg.

The problem started when I got home and my tummy had ballooned up even bigger, and 5cms inwards from either side of my hip bones was hurting so much even my dress brushing against my skin felt like it was on fire. I told my Doctor about this on Monday and she said it was because there are two things either side (she used the technical name I can’t remember what it was) which when they operate they need to tie in knots. Sort of like when you tie a rope off at the end. She said the pain and inflammation was from the knots and me bending and moving around too much. She said I wouldn’t have done any damage, but just to stop moving around so much until I’m cleared at 6 weeks. The pain was really bad until Wednesday morning (almost 5 days later) so the lesson learnt was do all your Christmas shopping online.

While at the Doctors she also talked me through the pathology report of everything they took out of me. This included some kidney bean sized tumours they found in my ovaries we weren’t aware I had until they opened me up. Because they left my ovaries in so I don’t go though menopause until I’m supposed to (#girlsgetallthefun), my Doctor said she made the call to completely remove the tumours. Everything was tested and given the all clear and the tumours were non-cancerous which was good news.

Because of the Christmas holidays, I don’t have my 6 week check in with my Doctor until 7 and a bit weeks in early January. Until then, it’s time to sit back, watch more Netflix, wait for my Christmas online shopping orders to arrive and count down the days until I can go swimming and back to the gym.

[katedownunder]

Woah, we're half way there...woah..

Two weeks since my operation and halfway through my mandatory downtime at home and I’m kicking a lot of recovery goals.

I took myself off the Targin completely a week before my Doctor told me to and felt much better for it. I’m moving around the house really well now and even managed to make it down the stairs to spend some time by the pool . I really am lucky to be recovering in such a nice place, I think this would have been so much harder to deal with if I was still living in our tiny apartment in Sydney.

My tummy is still pretty bloated (ironically I look pregnant), and sore to touch. However, now that I’m off the Targin my mind is so much clearer I’m feeling more and more like myself each day. My cut is still doing its thing to turn into a cool scar. I’m thinking my story will be that I got it when an alien had to be cut out of my body, which is sort of true when you think of how horrible Endometriosis is.

I have my official two week check in with my Doctor on Monday where I’m hoping she’ll give me the all clear to at least start going for walks with my dog. I feel up for it, even though everyone keeps telling me to take it easy, so I’m hoping my Doctor officially gives me the thumbs up. Well at least gives me the thumbs up that I’m ok enough to put up Christmas decorations because if it wasn’t for this operation they would have been put up weeks ago…

[katedownunder]

Waiting...waiting..

7 days after the operation the pain is still pretty intense and much worse than I thought it would be. I knew it would be painful however what I didn’t have an appreciation for is how long it will take to recover. My Doctor did say the first two weeks are the worst, however I thought by now there would be a gradual increase in feeling better; this hasn’t happened yet and every day I wake up at the same level of pain, sometimes worse.

My cut is healing pretty well and now has a light yellow bruise around it (like the colour of a super cute summer dress), so I know it’s on the mend. The cut is 15cms long and the stitches seem to have mostly dissolved. Considering how much they would have moved my skin around to move things out, it doesn’t look too bad. My entire tummy is still pretty swollen and sore to touch (and surprisingly really warm), but as long as I don’t move around too much it seems to just do its thing and not bother me.

On the positive side, so far the boredom hasn’t really gotten to me. I don’t know if it’s the drugs zoning me out, but so far it hasn’t been too bad. The thing I’m struggling with the most is not being able to do anything other than sitting to speed along the recovery. My parents raised me with the work ethic if you want something you work for it, which is how I live my life. If I want a hot body, a Bugatti, Maserati, I know I’ve got to work b*tch. It’s killing me that I can't actively do anything to speed this up other than sitting and that fact more than anything is driving me crazy. I’m also missing my barre classes and can’t wait to get back to the studio for some classes however I know that’s at least another 5 weeks away. When I’m cleared to get back to class you better believe I’ll work b*tch.

[katedownunder]

Pugs not drugs.

When my husband was helping me shower, dress and put on my super sexy hospital issued compression socks this morning, I realised I forgot to add one part into my last post. When I was in recovery and for the first night after the operation, I had these thick plastic sleeves wrapped around each of my legs. Sort of like a deflated pool toy, each sleeve was attached to a pump that rhythmically pumped air in and out of the sleeves around my legs. It didn’t hurt, but added to the feeling of being confined and claustrophobic for the first 24 hours. Also a few times throughout the first night a nurse would come and give me a needle in my thighs, which I later learned was to help prevent blood clots.

Ok – back to recovery.

After receiving advice on how to control the pain from my Doctor, and most importantly what medication to take when rather than just free styling it, I’m a little more on top of the pain. I managed to schedule reminders in my diary for the 8 times a day I need to take different medication so I get a notification on my phone telling me what to take a when. Planaholic mode achieved.

As my body isn’t used to taking this much medication, especially medication this strong, I’m going through waves of pain, feeling like I’m invincible, feeling super itchy all over, feeling nauseas and also crazy emotions. Last night I sat there feeling super weird, not at all like myself and I couldn’t figure out why. The pain wasn’t too bad and I didn’t feel nauseous. I just felt weird and I had what felt like a zillion irrational emotions going through my mind. It built up and up until I had a mini panic attack freaking out that if my husband died then my new husband and I wouldn’t be able to have kids*. Yeah. What the?

I had these weird feelings for a while and couldn’t figure them out. Because I’ve been conscious of what is happening to me, I knew these thoughts and feelings weren’t normal, I just couldn’t figure out what was happening. That was until my reminder went off and told it was time to take my Targin, aka oxycodone. Turns out it doesn’t take long for your body to become reliant on drugs and my body loves it some oxy.

As part of my drug plan with my Doctor she’s told me what to take and when and also when and how to start gradually taking my body off the stronger stuff. I’m on Targin two times a day until the end of the week, then I reduce it down to once a day for a week before I see her in two weeks time to review. While it does help with the pain, I do not like the emotional rollercoaster that comes with it so can't wait to get off the stuff.

*just to be clear I love my husband more than anything and have no intention of anything happening to him or wanting kids with anyone (unless those kids have 4 legs and are covered in fur and are a dog or a cat).

[katedownunder]

I’ve got 99 problems but a uterus isn’t one

After a few days of pre-op work (blood tests, drinking something really gross that really cleaned me out…), it was operation day.

We arrived at the hospital at 5.30am, checked in and were shown to my room like it was a hotel. I knew I was going to D ward, which I quickly realised was the maternity ward which made me a little uneasy and upset. However they seemed to do a good job of keeping the new mums and the hysterectomy patients far apart and I never saw or heard a baby.

After we waited awhile, my Doctor came to visit me and explained again in detail what she was going to do to me, making sure I understood the procedure and recovery in a clear and concise way which I really liked (or as my husband described it as “she’s very German”). When she was done I had a nurse doing the pre-op check and getting me “dressed for theatre” which if you’re like me and were expecting someone to wheel in a rack of sequinned gowns to choose one to wear to the theatre, you will be seriously disappointed in the shapeless paper gown they make you wear.

After checking my vitals, going through again with me what they were going to do, and what will happen in recovery, I was wheeled off by a guy who said “I’m the transport guy, just like the cable guy except I push you where you need to go”. He was so cheery and upbeat I felt like we were off on a fun adventure together as he wheeled me around the hospital.

When we arrived at the pre-op area (which I found out later was also the recovery area), I met with another nurse who went through the exact same questions I’d already been asked 3 times already that day and met my anaesthetist, a slightly chubby but really funny Chinese man who when he saw me said “are you ok?”. I smiled and sad “um...yes?” to which he replied “aww, no you’re not, you look like a deer in the headlights, let me give you something to relax” and put something into drip thing already in my arm which instantly made me light headed but more ok with everything.

My Doctor then came over to check how I was going and explained again what was happening. More stuff was put into my arm and within a minute they were wheeling me off to the theater (again wasn’t the type of theatre I was hoping). All I remember is thinking “wow this room looks like the surgeries on TV and the movies” then someone asked me to slide onto another bed. That’s it. I then woke up in the recovery area to lots of beeping noises and a nurse asking me if I was ok. I said to her “yeah, I’m just looking at all the birds flying around”. She laughed and said “there isn’t any birds in here but at least you’re not seeing spiders”.

I then sort of drifted in and out. People kept coming to check on me, my Doctor came to tell me it all went well and then I woke up back in my room attached to so many different machines it was claustrophobic. They had me on my back, the side rails were up on the bed, I had a tube for oxygen up my nose, two different things pumping into my left hand, a blood pressure band thing around my right arm, a small remote control in my right hand and the píece-de-résistance a catheter, well you know where. At this stage I wasn’t in too much pain as I was still on some hard core drugs but the feeling of being held down by all the cables and tubes was a really horrible feeling and my back was killing from laying still for so long.

Throughout that afternoon and night I slept on and off. The on, when I could manage to fall asleep. The off, when the nurse staff would come to check in on me. The next day I asked one of the nurses why did people keep waking me throughout the night? She told me that because I was on a PCA they had to check on me every hour. In all the preparation my Doctor and the nurses had done making sure I understood what was happening and what would happen in recovery, they never mentioned this part which I found weird as it was the worst part of all and maybe would have put me a little more at ease if I knew it was routine to keep waking me up every hour.

In the morning, I asked the first nurse I saw if they could take the catheter out so I could walk around. She pretty much laughed and said “haha no that won’t happen today”. When the second nurse on duty started, I asked the same thing. Her reply was pretty much the same “haha you’re so funny. No”. I kept asking every nurse that came into the room if they would let me get up until finally one said fine and unhooked everything from me and let me head to the bathroom on my own and shower which was heaven. I never thought I’d love a shower so much in my life.

As I was up and moving around I started to feel better and around midday and the weekend Doctor came to check in on me. She said the nurses had called her earlier that morning asking for permission to get me up out of bed because I “kept bugging them and wouldn’t drop it”. She was great about it though and said she could see I was doing really well, even made a comment that I shouldn’t look as good as I did this close to the surgery, but said my limit for moving around was going to my bathroom, my bed and the armchair in my room. No further.  

I asked her when could I go home and she said she could see I wasn’t the kind of person you wouldn’t have to push to get moving, rather that I’d be the opposite and they would have to try and stop me moving around so much. But she did say if I had a good night, was able to eat breakfast and could do a lap walking around the ward on my own then I could go home the next day, a day earlier than anticipated.

I spent the day doing everything the nursing staff asked me to and didn’t push it. I watched a lot of Netflix (Season 2 of Lucifer FTW), but mostly sat there taking all the drugs they gave me. As I was on solid food again I was eating from their regular menu which was surprisingly pretty good for hospital food. I also couldn’t help but think of this video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqGLHluDoe0 because after one day of what felt like quarantine I was considering what I’d look like with a bin for a head (did I mention I was on a lot of drugs?)

That night I slept better, the nursing staff only woke me up once to make me take more pain killers so in the morning when they came to check on me, by 7am I was already showered, dressed and had done my victory lap around the ward to show them I was good to go. It took awhile for them to get all the sign offs needed to release me early but by 9.30am I was outta there and on my way home.

In all of my “I got this” “I don’t need to sit in a hospital to feel better” “my dog is my therapy, let me out of here!”, I didn’t realise just how many drugs the nursing staff were giving me to keep me on a pain free buzz. When I was there, I did notice they would just keep giving me drugs without me asking. I didn’t realise there was a reason for this. When I got home and these constant drugs stopped, oh lordy lord did the pain hit and hit hard. Add to this the pain of moving from the hospital bed to our car and up our front stairs and you have one pretty grumpy person who maybe isn’t the superwoman they thought they were.

I wasn’t sure what drugs to take from what they had given me so in my pain fuelled state decided on all of them which made me sleep a lot and have the most crazy vivid dreams which involved me shopping with my mum and then some how becoming a Liam Neeson type bounty hunter tracking down people smugglers.

Thankfully my Doctor called me this morning (her first words were “I went to check in on you but they said you checked yourself out?” #busted) and talked me through what pain medication to take and when and reminded me to stop doing stuff.

So now it’s just a case of Netflix and literally chill.

[katedownunder]

It’s the final count down.

With less than a week to go before my surgery, things are starting to get real. Real scary. Real exciting.

Real scary: holy moly some people I don’t know are going to cut me open, move some bits around, take some bits out and sew me back together. I’m then going to be in a lot of pain, bored out of my mind and over $8k out of pocket because my insurance won’t cover the surgery and our public health system is fraught with issues.

Real exciting: There is an end. I can wear white jeans, white tights to barre, white shorts and a white swimsuit. I’m never going to have to feel uncomfortable again. Well unless I do something to embarrass myself like throw pineapple at a stranger because they’re wearing the same shirt as someone else…as a completely random example.

I’ve also had my pre-surgery check in with my Doctor and the final preparation has officially begun. I’ve filled in my pre-admission forms with the hospital. I need to have a blood test on Wednesday to check my iron levels, some other levels I can’t remember and confirm my blood type in case things go wrong and I need a blood transfusion. I need to take some horrible gross drink (Picoprep Powder) on Thursday afternoon which is apparently going to “clear you out so much you will want to be as close as you can to a toilet, because it can be pretty bad any time from two to six hours after you take it”, as my Doctor put it. I need to then be at the hospital at 5.30am on Friday without having coffee, which I think is possibly going to be the hardest part of this all.

I must be first up in the morning as my surgery is booked in for 8am and my Doctor said it should take around 100 minutes once I’m knocked out. After the surgery, I’ll recover in my room where I’ll remain on a drip to feed me (if anyone knows how to blend down a brownie to the level it will go through a drip let me know), and a catheter so I don’t need to get up.  I’ll also have a button next to me that I can press to administer pain medication. Although my Doctor said don’t get too excited, I can press it as much as I like however it’s capped at how much it will let me have each hour.

I’ll stay this way until Saturday where they will take me off the drip and remove the catheter and get me up and about walking around. My Doctor said my goal is to be able to get up and use the bathroom on my own which is apparently going to be difficult as she will push my bowel and bladder up out of the way to perform the surgery and it can take a little bit for it to settle back into the right place. All going well, there is a possibility that I’ll be able to go home on Sunday however I may be there until Monday if either my Doctor or I don’t feel I’m ready (spoiler if given the chance to go home early I’m taking it so this one is all on my Doctor).

With only 5 nights to go, I keep telling myself I’m fine. I got this. You go girl! But the reality is I’m really scared and wish I didn’t have to do this. I’m trying really hard to focus on the end game, but I’m scared of how much it’s going to hurt and how long it will hurt for. Oh, and I’m also scared that I won’t be able to pick my dog up and hug her for at least 6* weeks.

I’m not sure if knowing you have to have surgery far in advance is a good thing or a bad thing. I do not like that I have a lot of time to stress over it, but then again if it was emergency surgery I probably wouldn’t like how I didn’t have time to prepare. I guess any surgery is not fun, so maybe there isn’t ever a time when you feel good about it.

*6 weeks is my Doctors rule, but I’m just seeing it just as a recommendation because she hasn’t seen how cute my dog is and how much she loves hugs.

[katedownunder]

The Pre-Game Plan.

If you ask anyone to tell you three things about me chance are they will say:

She loves dogs.

She loves Hawaii.

She loves to plan things. This one is sometimes articulated as “she’s crazy organised” or “she’s a control freak”, but I like to think of myself more like Jane from Happy Endings and “I’m not controlling, I’m just aggressively helpful”.

Because of my love of planning I can’t do anything by halves. I’m either all in, or nothing. If I’m getting a dog, it gets it’s own Instagram page, birthday parties and I talk about it non-stop. If I’m going to Hawaii, I’m GOING to Hawaii and will completely immerse myself in the aloha spirit.

As someone who’s about to undergo surgery, I’m coping with it by going into planning mode (read: controlling the situation) by being as organised as I can. I’ve put together pre- and post-surgery plans and created a lot of lists so I feel more in control of what is happening.

My pre-op game plan is:

Buying things I need before the surgery, including fun things like a new nightie, a U shape pillow, and a unicorn coloring book to keep me entertained. Not so fun things like degas tablets, because apparently after the surgery I’m going to have a lot of gas (sorry husband).

Making a list of things I need/want to take with me to the hospital like slippers, dry shampoo, eye mask and earplugs etc.

I’m starting to train myself to sleep on my back. I’m a tummy sleeper and as that won’t be an option I’m spending the weeks leading up to the surgery training myself to sleep on my back so it’s not so weird when I have to.

Pre-cook meals to freeze.

Continue with my barre classes to keep up my fitness.

Loading up my Kindle with books I want to read.

I’m practicing my post-surgery breathing and movement exercises thanks to Michelle via https://youtu.be/oO09_s9OrWk

Make sure things at my work are all in order so I’m not leaving a mess for someone else to clean up while I’m on leave.

I’ve started to teach my dog and cat to not jump on my stomach when I’m in bed or watching TV and give me hugs….ok this one is a lie. I can’t do that yet. I spent so long training them to want to snuggle, I’m not sure how I’ll tell them I don’t want their cuddles.  This one is a work in progress.

My post-op plan is:

Watch 30 Disney movies in 30 days

The unknown post-op side is pretty scary for someone who likes to plan things to the level that they have a spreadsheet of what outfits they will wear on what day when on holidays. I’ve only ever had surgery three times before and it was always only day surgery and I was back to normal(ish) in a few days and while a step back, it was never a big deal. Knowing going into this that it’s 4 weeks off work is a reality check that it is going to be a big deal, and not knowing what that means is scary for a control freak.

I’m really lucky that I have an amazing support network of friends and family who are all reaching out with offers of support post-operation. I’m also lucky to live in a beautiful home, because my husband and I have already said that if we were still living in our tiny apartment in Sydney then I really would have gone crazy like a house cat. I know my post-op journey is going to be a lot better than others have had to endure and I’m grateful for that and keeping it front of mind.

Oh another fun fact. I found out today that I will have a urinary catheter during and for a day after the surgery. An unwelcome surprise, (which my husband said “at least you won’t have to get out of bed to pee, that’s a plus right?), but all I can think about is the Catheter Cowboy...

[katedownunder]

The uterus ninjas

With 3 weeks to go until the surgery, I’m actually feeling better about it all.  I’ve stopped crying, I feel more in control of the situation and I’m focusing on what cute Peter Alexander nightie I can buy for my hospital stay.

Looking back over the last week, mixed in with fear, I think a lot of my emotions were feelings of relief. Relief there is an end to it all. Relief I won’t continue to be a science experiment trying everything doctors throw at me. Relief that in a few months, it will all be over.

For me, endometriosis doesn’t just come with a shit load of pain (I’m pretty sure that’s the medical term), it comes with constant, unpredictable bleeding.  I was looking back through my Google calendar the other day to November 2015 (to prove my husband wrong about something…spoiler he wasn’t, I was). Back then my doctor had me tracking every day I was bleeding.

For November 2015 it was twenty days out of the month. Guys reading: don’t let the tampon ads give you the wrong idea; it’s not all horseback riding and swimming. Having your period sucks. Having your period for twenty days in one month sucks. Having that much bleeding every month for multiple years, that REALLY sucks.

Back in 2015, when my doctor had me tracking things, I remember she had me on yet another super pill that didn’t work. Over the years they’ve put me on every pill on the market in an attempt to fix things and balance my hormones. There was one that made me fat and didn’t work. There was one that made me fat and cranky all the time and didn’t work. There was another that made my boobs massive and didn’t work (this one was my husband’s favourite).  

There was also one that was really expensive and my Dr said was so strong there was no chance it wasn’t going to work. When I was still in pain and still bleeding non-stop, my doctor said “I can’t understand why this isn’t working, it’s almost medically impossible to not work given how strong it is”.  She then basically did one of these ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and we agreed that I must just be a high achiever.

Dealing with lots of blood, while uncomfortable and ruining your plans to wear white pants or enjoy your holidays, isn’t the worst part.  The pain is the kick in the gut (literally). When you have a headache or pain, you can take a painkiller and most of the time you’re good to go 20 minutes later. With my endometriosis, the pain comes in like “BAM!”, hangs around for anywhere from 2 mins to 15 mins and then is gone. It then might come back in 5 mins, 50 minutes or 5 hours later. It’s like living with a cat. “Are you going to scratch my face off now? In 5 minutes? Why are you tilting your head that way when you walk towards me cat?!”

The problem with pain like this is by the time it hits you, it’s too late to take painkillers. Also, just like Panadol doesn’t really help migraines, unless you take really strong medication, it barely makes any difference. You also shouldn’t take strong painkillers on a regular basis so it’s pretty much take a deep breath and try and get through it without looking like you’re holding in a massive fart.

Ok – I feel like this post has been more on the icky side, so let’s end on a happier note.

So far my favorite reaction to my surgery has come from my husband who I’m so lucky to have. He’s been beyond supportive during everything over the years. Even when I was a raging psycho on weird hormonal drugs he was always there by my side, while saying as delicately as he could “I think you may need to go back to the doctor as these drugs are making you loco…”.

When we sat down to talk about going ahead with the surgery one of the first things he said was “I’m going to have to buy you a longer iPhone charger cable so you don’t have to move too far to charge your phone while you’re recovering”. Now if that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

[katedownunder]

The start of the end.

On the 9th November, I’ll be having an abdominal hysterectomy. After 8+ years of trying every drug on the market, having hormonal medical implants and multiple surgeries, endometriosis has won and, at 38, I give in.

Why am I telling you this? Well, as you do when you find out you need to have major surgery, I’ve Goggled the bejebus out of the procedure. My “research” has uncovered lots of great advice, what to expect, how to prepare for the surgery…if you’re over 50. While I’m not far from 50, I do think there is a significant difference between what I’m experiencing and what someone in their 50’s is. Because of that reason, I decided to start journaling what I’m going through, how it impacts other parts of my life, what happens to my body, how my recovery goes and, honestly the thought of having 4 weeks bed rest does freak me out and I’m looking for something to do.

So, yes this will cover lots of girly stuff. Yes it will be a massive dose of TMI. Yes I’ll probably write things when I’m hooked up on pain killers (fingers crossed they give me the ones my dad had when he had surgery and saw a movie…when there was a TV and no movie on…). But mostly, it’s going to just be honest, non-filtered gibberish that will either give me something to focus on while I recover, or may provide some peace of mind to someone else going through the same thing at the same age one day.

When your Dr tells you that you need a hysterectomy, they talk you through what they will remove. In my case the uterus, fallopian tubes and cervix. How they will do it. For me, it’s going to be an abdominal procedure with a large cut across the bikini line which my Dr assures me you won’t be able to see when I wear a bikini (#blessed she thinks I can still wear a bikini).

What they don’t tell you is you will get mixed reviews from people when you tell them. Some will be incredibly supportive understanding this really is the last option available and make you feel so loved and supported. Others will tell you horror stories of someone they knew who knew someone who knew someone who knew someone who had the procedure when they were 65 and had so many complications with it they wouldn’t recommend it.

For my first pro-tip, if someone tells you they HAVE to have a hysterectomy, these are things they don’t want to hear:

Awww but then you can’t have kids *sad face*

But you’re so young, can’t you just wait until your older?

I know someone who had a bad experience, now let me now tell you why it was so horrible….

Try these (actual awesome things people said to me) instead:

You’re so fit and healthy, you’ll recover in no time, just make sure you don’t push it and reach out if I can do anything to help you

How do you feel about it all?

You can have my Netflix password if you like? (this was from someone I work with who I told I was really worried about was how bored I will be for the 4 weeks at home)

If you are supporting someone who is going through this operation, you should be yourself and not be fearful of saying the wrong thing. However I encourage you to think about how the person may be feeling before you say something. 

We often project our own fears (omg I could never have an operation that big – too scary!) and beliefs (omg I could never live without kids – too scary!) onto others and if this is something you’re conscious of, it can help you be a better support.  While nothing has been said to intentionally rattle me, I can tell you it’s crazy scary and an emotional rollercoaster already. When I found out I spent the following four days crying on and off and I’m not much of a crier. What we need is just love, support and offers to come visit us when we’re home bound for the four weeks cause oh man it’s going to be a long four weeks...