October 08, 2007
The ex again, uterus talk, and fall.
Over the weekend while I was doing some cleaning, I found my ex's social security card (again.) I had already found it once, but it wasn't at a time where I felt like I could give it back to him without a whole lot of drama. Things are still wierd, but not so much that I didn't feel like it would be awkward for me to call him.
I called him just before my lunch break to let him know that I had found his SS card, and that I'd bring it to him on my lunch break. I also told him that I had run into an old friend of ours online, and that she said hello. I caught him up on a couple of rumors that had been going around about us over the last few years, and we had a laugh. I didn't think he was acting strange on the phone at all, except for at the end when he said he had a call rather abruptly and had to go.
I drove over, left my truck running, and knocked on the door. Usually when I see him he makes me pretty uncomfortable, wanting to hug me and "talk." This time was totally different. He opened the door, and stood blocking the doorway. I handed him the card (and a few other things that were in a small pouch) and he opened it up, and began looking at the things that were in it. He asked me how long I had had the card. (Hello? I didn't come get it after I moved out!) I asked him when I left, and he said "February?" I corrected him, "No, April." We briefly argued over it, and while we were talking I realized he had this piece of something? on his face, just next to his eye.
Okay, maybe it's strange that I reached out to brush it off of his cheek, but his reaction was even stranger. He jerked back, as if I was going to hit him. I rolled my eyes at him, and told him he had something on his face. Then, he stepped back into the entryway, and pointed to his left "Stephanie, meet Theresa." Everything made sense then, so I stepped in and waved at her and said hello. Oh man, if looks could kill, I'd have been dead on the spot. (Listen honey, I've been there and done that, you can have him...all of him. I don't want him.)
He asked me what I had done with his card, with a rather snarky tone of voice, so I answered him back just as snarkily "I got a couple of credit cards and mortgaged a house, hope you don't mind." He knew it was absolute bullshit, so he just laughed, and by this time I was already halfway down the front steps. As I was getting in my truck he was making some comment about "take care" or "take it easy", but I wasn't really listening.
I started laughing as I backed down the driveway, and laughed all the way down the road. I don't really know what was so funny, but maybe it was the combination of his shaking hands and her deadly look. I won't comment about her appearance, except to say that they make a perfect pair. ;)
You should probably stop reading here if the word uterus makes you squirm. I'm likely to say it more than once.
My uterus is not my friend. She (You can't expect me to call a uterus a he, right?) was never perfect to begin with. I remember after my first exam with the gyno, after he took off his latex gloves and asked me to sit up, he told me that my uterus was tilted, and that it wouldn't cause problems for me until I tried to get pregnant. At eighteen years of age, I really wasn't too worried about getting pregnant, but a few years later when my fertility became rather important to me, that tilted uterus was a right pain in the ass.
Getting pregnant the first time was the most frustrating thing ever, but after having my first c-section, apparently the doctor set things the way mother nature had neglected to do, and those last two pregnancies were quite a shock.
Anyway, cutting into a uterus creates scar tissue. With my propensity to develop fibroids anyway, that scar tissue was just an invitation for my uterus to betray me. So, a few months ago when I visited the gyno, he immediately suggested hysterectomy.
I'm ony 33 years old. It's not that I want to have more kids, or that I even plan to (my tubes are tied anyway), but taking away the ability to make that choice...seemed rather drastic. His next suggestion was endometrial ablation. However, while this would let me keep my uterus...it would still take away the choice to change my mind about it later.
So the next option would to be to have surgery to remove the fibroids. This presents another problem: cutting the fibroids out means more scar tissue...and the possibility for MORE fibroids later. When I told the doctor that this is the option I would likely choose, he seemed none too pleased about it, and told me that he would have to do an ultrasound to verify, but that he was pretty sure that I had one fibroid that was large enough that he might feel "uncomfortable" removing.
Now, I realize that he's been to medical school, and he knows the inside of a woman much better than I do...but if I would prefer to keep my bits intact, shouldn't he just do what I want?
I called his office today to discuss setting up the ultrasound, and the nurse said she'd pull my chart and get back to me. I never heard back from the office, which is annoying.
Every month (my period) is a nightmare. I'm sure it's contributing to my exhaustion, and the pain has passed my threshold. I'm no sissy, I can take pain, but this is different.
It's so frustrating to have your body betray you this way. I won't compare it to cancer, because as far as I know, you can't die from fibroid tumors, but I think I have a bit of understanding of how a cancer patient might feel when they realize that a part of their body has turned on them. It's like an invasion that you have no control over.
Maybe I'm being stubborn by refusing what the doctor suggests, but I really don't feel like I'm being unreasonable. Again, I'm only 33. Call me crazy, but I'll just tolerate the pain until I can't anymore.
When I left for work this morning it was actually cold outside. It seems that fall has finally arrived. It could be just a false start, but I definately appreciated the cooler weather. This is probably my favorite time of year.
I love the colors as everything begins to turn. In the mornings everything is covered in dew, and the air is thick and misty. I relish the cool, breezy nights. Southwest and Northeast Oklahoma are truly stunning this time of year. I always get the itch to travel and visit the places I've been before, just to see the change.
Spring is always nice, like a sort of reminder that life goes on, but fall seems to be a reminder that change is good. There is transformation all around, and it seems to inspire change within.
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jktty at 11:35 p.m.