The Aftermath

First I checked in then was taken into pre-op. I tossed my clothes for a gown that had holes that reminded me of colostomy bag openings. I shrugged and put it on anyway. I was soon to discover the holes were for a tube similar to an old hair dryer tube, ribbed and plastic. They plugged into the suit and filled my paper covering filled with hot air. I immediately relaxed. I didn't even have to put on non-skid socks as mine were good enough. I knew all the nurses because I am a frequent visitor. We caught up on Mexican vacations and how the back was doing. Even my orthopod was there and he stopped in to say hello. I'll be seeing him as soon as we can figure out my disturbing uterus. 

My GYN stopped by and announced his pleasure at my arrival. I did a double take at his OR hat. Happy little uterus' danced in succession accompanied by fallopian tubes. My anesthesiologist laughed as she was the one who made it for him. Just what I like in a surgical ward, laughter and information. He told me what to expect while my anesthesiologist explained I'd be out for the entire procedure. I love my team. They are so awesome. Even the doctor wormed his way into my heart. They let Dennis come in to see me and we sat and joked about anything that came into mind. Soon, his visit was over and I was on my way to surgery. 

I remember thinking that I had to log this hallway and the overhead lights into my memory in case I was lucky enough to  die during the procedure. I totally did not want to go down this road. Why you ask? I have no idea except that I did not want to be here. Not even for the jokes. I hate the anticipation leading up to anything. It makes my skin crawl and I just want out of the situation. My lovely anesthesiologist met me at the table and hooked up my IV. She flooded me with anesthesia. Then flooded me again. "Aren't you going to sleep?" was the last thing I heard. 

When I woke up the room seemed dark. They were calling my name and I had to respond. My nurses welcomed me back to the world while my doctor came over for a short visit. He wasn't laughing or joking. He didn't say, "See how easy that was?" Instead he was frowned and said, "I will see you next week to go over the pathology report."

​I nodded. He knew I used to work in an OB/GYN office years ago.

He finished with, "Your uterus was more like a cave with stalactites and stalagmites all over the place."

I cringed.

"So, next week?"

"Yup." I knew he wouldn't tell me anything else. He was a by-the-book, face-to-face kind of person and no more information would be forthcoming until the report was in. 

The nurses started dressing me, but the room was deathly quiet. One asked, "Are you in pain?"

"Yes." The cramping was more like the first stages of labor. That crampy, grab your attention kind of prickling that would not let up. She offered me a new pain pill and commented they were no longer using hydrocodone. If you ask me, it was a heck of a lot stronger.

I am sure they were waiting for me to say something, but I didn't want to lose the ambiance or the wash of narcotics that overcame me in just a few minutes. The wheelchair arrived and I was back in the car and Dennis was driving me home. He asked me if the doctor said anything and I said, "Yeah. We can talk about it later." 

I was tired so I headed to the couch. I stayed there all day, took my pain meds as directed, and did everything I could to keep from thinking. It worked for awhile and then I started thinking about cancer. The uterus is a smooth muscle that accommodates a growing baby. It has a layer of endometrium that swells and thins through a woman's monthly cycle. Mine hadn't been cycling in years so there was no way something should be in there. I thought back to the ultrasound I had in December when they caught the growth. The endometrium was a 4 then well within normal limits. I had no idea what mine was now, but it was certainly a heck of a lot bigger than a 4. Now, I love medicine. If I ever have to come back to this world I'd like to be a physician, but for now, I just study, like I do with physics. The sciences fascinate me. 

I thought about the normal uterus two months ago with a growth in it that had to be removed. Now I had a uterus that looked like a cave filled with foreign material. Cancer just doesn't grow that fast. I considered Remicade and its side effects as it is known to cause cancer. Remicade is a drug I get through an IV once a month for Crohn's disease. Remicade is also known for fungal infections. It was the reason I had to go off it several years ago as my fingers were constantly infected. I had to go back on a year ago and was receiving the drug every eight weeks, but it wasn't working. So we upped it to once a month and the infections have started again. My fingers are clear now due to diligent cleaning, in the process drying out my hands so much that cracks have formed which let in infectious agents. It is a trying endeavor and a never ending one. 

But it got me to wondering. My old pal, Dr. Rasmussen said I would have made an excellent physician. I could pick up on things no one else did. I could hear when a person was coming down with a cold and make sense out of odd symptoms. I loved talking to him. In fact, I loved him very much, but being a doctor was not in the plan. In any case, my brain reaching fever pitch, a few things clicked in my mind.

I had come down with a fungal infection in personal areas about two months ago. It was shortly before the December ultrasound. My doc gave me this great cream that cleared it up in no time but what if? What if this infectious agent had spread to my uterus? It was possible and it made sense. The ultrasound had been done within weeks of the diagnosis. What if I had stopped the spread in the areas I could reach but not in the area where reach was impossible? 

In November, all of the annual exam tests came back just fine. No cancer and cancer takes years to grow, something the average person is not aware of. You have to think of doubling time. Cancer cells multiply and the doubling time, of even a teeny tiny mass, can take months or years or decades to grow. So, no, in my opinion this cannot be cancer. It has to be some kind of infection. The doc did take everything out so it is all being biopsied as I write. I am so sure of my diagnosis my worries are gone as may be my days of Remicade.  I will find out the answer next week so as long as this helps me sleep at night I am good. Besides, it is the only diagnosis that makes sense unless I had a horrible technologist who read the report. And that is always possible.