Saturday, April 11, 2015

Finding the missing words

The past few weeks I have begun to feel I have lost my way with this blog. I have not written a decent blog post - nor attempted any creative writing pieces and every time I sit here to write about what has happened - the words escape me. Words that usually flow from my brain to my keyboard,  are now locked inside me and I am truly struggling. Not only am I unable to articulate the absolute whirlwind of emotions that are flooding my body I cannot begin to separate my thoughts and really say how I am feeling. 

It isn't that I don't want to share my thoughts here. I do. I just. Well I have struggled. 

Earlier last month I alluded to another operation. That operation - number 6 - has been and gone and I sit here a week and three days later and I still cannot find the words. 

Perhaps it was the rush in which I went to undergo the operation. Four weeks from discussions with my specialist, to landing myself on the operating table. Four measly weeks. Yet I couldn't have waited longer - my anxiety leading up the operation was extreme. 

It took me five months from when I first got my referral to the specialist, to pick up the phone and book an appointment. In those five months I went back and forth several times. From the moment I walked into my specialists rooms and discussed my limited options - I felt relieved. 

Based on my symptoms, combined with an ultrasound and the location of my last two excision surgeries - the specialist suspected Adenomyosis. 

Look it up. It is similar to endometriosis but unlike endometriosis the only definitive way of "knowing" you have it and curing it is Hysterectomy. 

I am not new to the word. Since the GP suggested one at the start of 2012 it has lingered in the back of my mind like a dirty little secret. Back then I still wanted another baby and I was still young, it wasn't an option and I did nothing with the first referral she gave me. 

I won't lie the past two years have been hell. 

When I started getting days of headaches coinciding with my cycle, on top of the PMT and extreme fatigue plus unrelenting pain; enough was enough. I saw my GP (no tears) got my referral, saw my specialist (no tears) discussed dates of operation and then I booked myself into my psych (no tears) for a couple of bonus "coping" appointments and suddenly it was all systems go. The tears finally arrived with an extreme panic attack the Thursday before the operation. 

Last week I awoke from the anaesthetic with minimal pain and feeling no different to every other operation I have endured. The past week hasn't ALL been wonder and roses. There has been lots of bed rest, a trip to the emergency department and so many tears and worries and a lot of outside stressors. The only physical difference (apart from four new incisions) is I have lost my bloated stomach and I have lost nearly ALL the weight I had gained in the past 6 months. 

While I'm not ecstatic that everything has led to this conclusion, I have a small glimmer of a fantastic pain free future to look forward to.  

1 comment:

Rachel @ The Barefoot Crafter said...

<3 six months 11 days until I can give you the big squeezy hug I'm saving up for you xx