I got the call from the hospital I was waiting for. My pre-op is booked for Tuesday morning at 8:30am. It'll take a few hours. The surgery itself is booked for the following Monday. I'll find out what time I have to go in during the pre-op, where I will also be pre-admitted. Handy, that. Dh was able to book those days off, plus the day after my surgery, with a tentative extension in the unlikely event that things go wrong. Things are moving along smoothly, and I'm quite happy with how it's all working out.
I spent a bit of time going over the information pamphlets I got from the gyno. They described 3 different possible laparoscopic surgeries, including a hysterectomy.
The one describing the procedure I'll be getting had a few details the gyno forgot to mention. One of them was the inflation. I actually did know that this would be done - an old friend had described her laparoscopy some years back and mentioned it. I had completely forgotten about it, though. I'm going to be pumped full of CO2 so they have room to look around.
It takes a while for the gas to go away on its own.
Joy.
I'd better make sure I bring along some very loose clothing to wear when I'm done.
Then I got to the image in the pamphlet and discovered there was something else the doctor neglected to mention to me that had me spouting come choice words that had the rest of the family wondering what the heck was going on. Seriously?? WTH?!?!
It wasn't the ballooned belly in the image that bothered me. Nor was it the laparoscope through the naval. The second image showing a surgical instrument inserted through another incision didn't bother me, either. Nope.
It was this.
Yeah, that other thing. That thing that looks like a medieval torture device. The thing with the hinge. A friggin' uterine manipulator.
W.
T.
H.
Stick something through an incision in my belly, I've got no problem. Pump me full of CO2? Go for it.
Sticking something through my vagina and INTO my uterus? Then wiggling it around?
THAT gives me the willies.
*shudder*
I know I'm going to be out for this and I won't feel a thing if they do end up using it. It doesn't matter. It's bad enough I've had to put up with all those friggin' pelvic exams. I don't like the idea of someone paying me a visit, shall we say, and I certainly don't like the idea of hosting a guest in my parlor.
Ew.
Ew. Ew. Ew.
Ew.
I really, really hope they don't need to use it. Unfortunately, it's probably likely they will. As my MIL (who has assisted many a surgery in her medical career) told Dh, aging, having children and weight changes has things moving around and settling in places they didn't start out. Considering the difficulty they had trying to find things during the ultrasound, I imagine my bits and pieces have moved around a fair bit. This is normal. It just makes it a little harder on the doctors during surgery.
My MIL had assurances for Dh about the cyst, as well. They're pretty normal and I may have had it for decades. Had George not decided to do the twist, I may never have discovered him. Of course, I told him this as well, but sometimes it helps him to hear it from somewhere else. Hearing it from his own mother, with her background, probably did more to reassure him than hearing it from anyone else.
As for me, I'm looking forward to Tuesday. I'll have to remember to bring my project bag along. I imagine I'll be spending quite a bit of time waiting in between the tests and whatnot they have to do. I've been told it'll be 2 - 3 hours altogether.
I wonder if I'll have a chance to visit a friend who's been stuck in that hospital for a few weeks now? I haven't seen her in a while. A visit would be nice. :-)
Meanwhile, I've been tentatively active. Eldest escorted Youngest to her guitar lesson for me, but I've been able to walk to the library and back without issue, though I do tend to slow myself down. Today I was on my feet a lot more than usual and felt fine until the last leg home. There was just a bit of pulling in the area. Not something I haven't felt before, but now I realize it's George, saying hello.
George, your days are numbered!
No comments:
Post a Comment