I don't know that my story is all that spectacular or interesting... and maybe that's a good thing. It's not terribly dramatic, but it just reflects many years of suffering which came to about a 90% conclusion with my surgery in September 2004.
My periods started when I was 11, and they were always painful (or at least I thought so in my teenaged mentality). When I had my dd in 1988, the doctor rather offhandedly remarked that I had some fibroids. I had no idea what a fibroid was, but he didn't seem concerned. He said the largest one was about the size of a ping-pong ball and that it would probably shrink down to the size of a pea after the pregnancy.
I had a D&C several years later because of extremely heavy bleeding, and my periods just got increasingly heavy and painful. I had always given blood several times a year, and I just stopped trying because my hemaglobin level was always too low (and I always had liver and spinach right before donating). I was tired most of the time.
I became pregnant in 2000 with DS. Because I was so "old" (40 LOL) it was recommended that I have amniocentesis. This was also done because DH and I wanted to know the sex of the baby. They almost couldn't complete the test because my uterus was full of fibroids. It was almost impossible to even find a pocket of fluid to test.
Later in the pregnancy, which I was hoping would result in a vaginal delivery (DD had been a c-section), I was getting rather alarmed because I could only feel kicks on one side of my belly. I asked my doc what was up when I went for my next ultrasound, and she said that there was a softball-sized fibroid on the right side of my uterus which was causing the baby to be diagonal in the uterus. Whew -- suddenly there was a reason I wasn't feeling anything. But this also meant he would be born via c-section.
(It wasn't until years later that I learned that it was probably truly a miracle that I was able to carry my son to full term with so many large fibroids inside me.)
Fast-forward another 3-1/2 years. I was absolutely sick of the monthly pain, bleeding, and I still felt and looked 6 months pregnant. Went to the gynecologist, who ordered an ultrasound. Test showed my uterus was "grossly enlarged" and was the size of a 26-week pregnancy. (Again, no wonder I felt pregnant!)
Surgery was scheduled for Monday, September 20, 2004. DH and I arrived at the hospital well ahead of my 11:00 report time. I was so upset when I got that report time! I wanted this to get over with as soon as possible and I was all worried about the "no food or drink after midnight" thing. Actually, I was way too anxious to even feel hungry or thirsty, and I just used an Oral-B Brush Up (looks like a little finger puppet!) on my teeth so I wouldn't even be tempted to swallow water when I brushed my teeth.
I took just a small overnight bag, but I put all sorts of things into it that I thought I might use. Here's a hint for all -- think of how you felt when you were at your worst at another time in your life. Did you really care about using a portable CD player, or makeup, or silky pajamas??? (No, I didn't bring silky pj's with me.... I knew I was going to let the hospital do the laundry for me with who knows what kind of betadyne and blood would be all over me after surgery.) Here's what I actually used of what I brought: A small notebook and pen to take down questions for the doctor, toothbrush and toothpaste, shower gel and lotion, comb, an alarm clock with a lighted display (because I'm so nearsighted) and a magazine. I took some really neat slippers with me, but they wouldn't let me wear them because of liability reasons -- I had to wear their little socks with the gripper bottoms.
My surgery was supposed to last 1-1/2 hours, but it ended up taking almost 3 hours because of some extra stuff they had to do. Before the surgery, I spent time in the pre-op waiting area. Doctors were filing in, talking to everyone except me, it seemed. The women on either side of me were having cancer surgery, and I felt very grateful that they were not suspecting any cancer for me. Finally, someone did come and talk to me, and my surgeon also stopped by for a minute.
I really didn't feel too bad until they wheeled me into the operating room. That's when the fear struck me! And boy, are operating rooms c-o-l-d. But they covered me with warm blankets, reaching underneath to put all the probes on me. And then they gave me the "happy juice" and told me to breathe normally. Next thing I knew, I woke up in recovery -- in so much pain!! But they got it under control very quickly (at least I thought they did). I went back to my room, where DH was waiting. He said later I was pretty out of it..... big surprise there LOL. I had the PCA pump and didn't really like it, as the meds kept wearing off just as I was going to sleep, then I'd wake up hurting.
My three nights in the hospital were rather unremarkable, except the first day after surgery I really felt horrible. I tried to walk and got very sick to my stomach and the nurses said, "Get back in bed -- we'll try this later." My room had a whiteboard in it where the nurses would put my "job" for the day up -- the first day it was, "rest". The second day it said, "Take 3 walks and try to eat something" and they put 3 hearts up there. The 3rd day it was "Take 5 walks" and I did it fairly easily... They all said I was doing really well.
I went home on day 4 (if you count surgery day as day 1) and slept most of the day. Form that point on my recovery went slow and steady, with a few bumps in the road (a couple of popped staples, a hematoma) but nothing all that spectacular.
I took six weeks off work but really should have taken more. I was still very tired at 3 months post-op, but suddenly one day, I realized I had gone the whole day without thinking about my surgery. That was the turning point for me!
Now at 1-1/2 years post-op, I'm starting to focus more on my ongoing health issues. I kept my ovaries, and so far they are working. But I'm always wondering if they'll fail at some point before "natural" menopause, as I've read that this is possible. So each month I'm happy when I feel that twinge meaning I'm ovulating.
Well, that's my story. Hope you're not asleep!! (If so, though -- don't wake up on my account. I'll hand you a virtual quilt to keep you warm.)
My periods started when I was 11, and they were always painful (or at least I thought so in my teenaged mentality). When I had my dd in 1988, the doctor rather offhandedly remarked that I had some fibroids. I had no idea what a fibroid was, but he didn't seem concerned. He said the largest one was about the size of a ping-pong ball and that it would probably shrink down to the size of a pea after the pregnancy.
I had a D&C several years later because of extremely heavy bleeding, and my periods just got increasingly heavy and painful. I had always given blood several times a year, and I just stopped trying because my hemaglobin level was always too low (and I always had liver and spinach right before donating). I was tired most of the time.
I became pregnant in 2000 with DS. Because I was so "old" (40 LOL) it was recommended that I have amniocentesis. This was also done because DH and I wanted to know the sex of the baby. They almost couldn't complete the test because my uterus was full of fibroids. It was almost impossible to even find a pocket of fluid to test.
Later in the pregnancy, which I was hoping would result in a vaginal delivery (DD had been a c-section), I was getting rather alarmed because I could only feel kicks on one side of my belly. I asked my doc what was up when I went for my next ultrasound, and she said that there was a softball-sized fibroid on the right side of my uterus which was causing the baby to be diagonal in the uterus. Whew -- suddenly there was a reason I wasn't feeling anything. But this also meant he would be born via c-section.
(It wasn't until years later that I learned that it was probably truly a miracle that I was able to carry my son to full term with so many large fibroids inside me.)
Fast-forward another 3-1/2 years. I was absolutely sick of the monthly pain, bleeding, and I still felt and looked 6 months pregnant. Went to the gynecologist, who ordered an ultrasound. Test showed my uterus was "grossly enlarged" and was the size of a 26-week pregnancy. (Again, no wonder I felt pregnant!)
Surgery was scheduled for Monday, September 20, 2004. DH and I arrived at the hospital well ahead of my 11:00 report time. I was so upset when I got that report time! I wanted this to get over with as soon as possible and I was all worried about the "no food or drink after midnight" thing. Actually, I was way too anxious to even feel hungry or thirsty, and I just used an Oral-B Brush Up (looks like a little finger puppet!) on my teeth so I wouldn't even be tempted to swallow water when I brushed my teeth.
I took just a small overnight bag, but I put all sorts of things into it that I thought I might use. Here's a hint for all -- think of how you felt when you were at your worst at another time in your life. Did you really care about using a portable CD player, or makeup, or silky pajamas??? (No, I didn't bring silky pj's with me.... I knew I was going to let the hospital do the laundry for me with who knows what kind of betadyne and blood would be all over me after surgery.) Here's what I actually used of what I brought: A small notebook and pen to take down questions for the doctor, toothbrush and toothpaste, shower gel and lotion, comb, an alarm clock with a lighted display (because I'm so nearsighted) and a magazine. I took some really neat slippers with me, but they wouldn't let me wear them because of liability reasons -- I had to wear their little socks with the gripper bottoms.
My surgery was supposed to last 1-1/2 hours, but it ended up taking almost 3 hours because of some extra stuff they had to do. Before the surgery, I spent time in the pre-op waiting area. Doctors were filing in, talking to everyone except me, it seemed. The women on either side of me were having cancer surgery, and I felt very grateful that they were not suspecting any cancer for me. Finally, someone did come and talk to me, and my surgeon also stopped by for a minute.
I really didn't feel too bad until they wheeled me into the operating room. That's when the fear struck me! And boy, are operating rooms c-o-l-d. But they covered me with warm blankets, reaching underneath to put all the probes on me. And then they gave me the "happy juice" and told me to breathe normally. Next thing I knew, I woke up in recovery -- in so much pain!! But they got it under control very quickly (at least I thought they did). I went back to my room, where DH was waiting. He said later I was pretty out of it..... big surprise there LOL. I had the PCA pump and didn't really like it, as the meds kept wearing off just as I was going to sleep, then I'd wake up hurting.
My three nights in the hospital were rather unremarkable, except the first day after surgery I really felt horrible. I tried to walk and got very sick to my stomach and the nurses said, "Get back in bed -- we'll try this later." My room had a whiteboard in it where the nurses would put my "job" for the day up -- the first day it was, "rest". The second day it said, "Take 3 walks and try to eat something" and they put 3 hearts up there. The 3rd day it was "Take 5 walks" and I did it fairly easily... They all said I was doing really well.
I went home on day 4 (if you count surgery day as day 1) and slept most of the day. Form that point on my recovery went slow and steady, with a few bumps in the road (a couple of popped staples, a hematoma) but nothing all that spectacular.
I took six weeks off work but really should have taken more. I was still very tired at 3 months post-op, but suddenly one day, I realized I had gone the whole day without thinking about my surgery. That was the turning point for me!
Now at 1-1/2 years post-op, I'm starting to focus more on my ongoing health issues. I kept my ovaries, and so far they are working. But I'm always wondering if they'll fail at some point before "natural" menopause, as I've read that this is possible. So each month I'm happy when I feel that twinge meaning I'm ovulating.
Well, that's my story. Hope you're not asleep!! (If so, though -- don't wake up on my account. I'll hand you a virtual quilt to keep you warm.)
