You know everything seemed to be going so well, while I had my head in the sand I could pretend that I didn't need to face the bigger issues in life.
I could pretend to be a typical mid 30's woman (oh who am I kidding... I past mid 30's a few years ago!) Sure there are times I wallow in the woe is me category and I wonder WHY ME?
Then there are days like this week where I can lead an almost normal life. I know that will change next week as my hormones spike and I end up a raging mess. A person I don't like living with and one I have absolutely no control over.
When I face facts though - I have tracked the past three cycles and I am averaging a total of 7-10 days of feeling normal. When I'm not a hormonal bitch and when I'm not crippled over in pain. Say (if I was normal) that would give me an average of feeling awesome 1 week per month. 12 months over a year means - 12 weeks a year I am living fully. Out of 52 weeks!
I am left struggling for a whopping 40 weeks of the year. That is UTTERLY RIDICULOUS and something needs to change.
It has been in the back of my mind for sometime now and I have gone so far as reading several websites and starting my research on finally getting the BIG H.
It wasn't until after speaking to a friend that she made me realise that I'm not really living. Sure I tend to push myself through the pain and the fatigue, but to actually wake up every morning and not wonder where I'm at in my cycle and whether or not I will be a screaming banshee by days end - or whether I need to plan my appointments around my heat pack and home.
The sheer thought of one terrifies me. Not for the obvious reason as you would think (i.e. no more babies) Its all the other factors I need to weigh in. The recovery, the emotional and mental state such an operation will be sure to bring. The cost. The impact it will have on my family.
Then the glimmer of hope - a hope that it might be my answer. That I might be able to go about my days PAIN FREE.
Only to watch that hope be shattered by so many ladies who have had this procedure done as a last resort and end up back where they began not two years earlier. Do I want to risk something of this magnitude on the off chance it might not work? Or do I take the risk and deal with the consequences.
While I had intended this post to be "I am ready to get a hysterectomy" it appears that I haven't yet come to a decision and might need more time to consider the prospects.
I considered NOT hitting enter on this post - it feels so personal and it is the one area I have avoided discussing with myself for many years. I have instinctively known that this would be my future since I was diagnosed all those years ago. However I feel that if I continue to avoid the word, if I continue to stick my head in the sand then I will end up accepting and living this half life. My words are my way of fighting this disease and I will continue to fight with words since it would appear the knife is no longer working.