hysterectomy + 10 months and one day…

One day late… and a bit more than a dollar short.  I am, however, still ecstatic that I no longer have to wear pads stuck to my undies at indeterminate days each month for my horrid experience of having fibroids that were causing unnecessary and irregular bleeding through each month.  It is now a joy to walk down those aisles at the supermarkets and be grateful that my grocery cart is not half filled with “feminine hygiene products.”   When are they just going to call them what they are…. pads and plugs, for goodness sake!

If this is too graphic for you, sorry…… perhaps you should get your information elsewhere.  I’m giving you fair warning.  I take no responsibility for your reactions to my writing from this moment forward. 

Here goes……….

I will reiterate a few factoids, as not all of you have read previous scrawlings.  My total abdominal hysterectomy was performed (?) by Dr. Mark Seaver, a superb gynecologist and surgeon from Kaiser Permanente Medical Group in Sacramento California.  I was dead set against any surgery until I met him.  When he gave me the lowdown, believe me, I was awestruck.  Why awestruck?  No one had ever told me so succinctly that there was no cure for the freaking uterine fibroids that I had been trying to get rid of for maybe 10 years or more.  

Yes, I tried everything, from Mayan massage to acupuncture, from meditation to self-healing…. you get the picture.  Of course, I still believe that these things do help and did help me and still help me greatly.  But the thought of being post-menopausal and still bleeding for what could be forever I found quite daunting.  I couldn’t go anywhere.  I couldn’t really make plans.  And meeting new prospective partners.  Hell on wheels.

So back to Dr. Seaver.  The only real “cure” was to rip me open and cut ‘em out (my words).  He said to take some meds, wait a few months, see if they might shrink.  I think shrink they did with all that work being done on them, but shrinkage here only meant less blood.  I had already made arrangements to go on vacation in July —  possible surgery date, but had still not made the final decision.  When I got back, and had an appointment with him in late August, he waited patiently for my decision.  ”Cut ‘em out!” I wailed anxiously.  Ok, he told me the next date would be September 29th. 

So here we go.  This is my 10 month update.  I came out of the surgery raring to go…. but he and the resident said, “Nothing in that vagina for at least 6 weeks.”  I am quite sure that there are women, highly influenced by men, who don’t wait and who have complications.  At that time, there was someone ringing the doorbell, and had been for several weeks.  He was a nice guy.  Came to Sacramento to meet me in early October, brought a burrito for each of us and a six pack of beer.  The burrito had been purchased in El Cerrito – an hour+ away from here…. and I don’t drink alcohol.

He thought I’d still be in bed, unable to go to the door, and was quite surprised to see me up and about. Anyway, I respected what my doctors had said, and didn’t let him near the precious opening that time around, especially with him being a gaseous bean farting drunk.

I know…. TMI.

So how do I feel today?  Less libido than I’d like, but that is tempered by the fact that my “mansearch” ended in January… well actually a bit more.  Too much else going on in my life to seek out prospective partners.  It’s time for me.  Sort of like I’ve grown up, maybe even matured over the past 10 months.  I still feel squishy when I’m around someone who gets my juices flowing, but have become less tolerant of fools and pretenders.  

Looking for love and honesty — not sure which order.  I have not shed much weight since last year’s surgery — maybe 15 pounds kept off since then.  It goes in phases.  I wonder if I am sick…. if I am unwell once in a while, but continue to live well, except for the sleep deprivation I have experienced of late.  I know that could be the result of the death of a friend, followed rapidly by the unexpected death of my mother…. all within 10 days.  I’m fortunate to have friends and my son who have helped me through this mire.  

I went through a period of stress and anxiety when I was given the workload of a woman on medical leave.  Then I was told that my standards were too high, just as I finally got the big picture on what this woman was responsible for….. a thankless job, relentless responsibility and mind numbing.  I now have only part of that responsibility, and am quite ready to release the rest if it is required of me.  

I tell you this because my level of intensity with regard to work ethic, deadlines, responsible behavior seemed escalated to a fever pitch.  I’m not sure that would have happened before the surgery.  

I feel a bit edgy living in this apartment.  Haven’t lived on one since I was 18 years old — about 87 years ago.  Before the deaths two weeks ago, I had a very nice bit of peace within my psyche.  And I had a nice bit of something else in my you know where.  Then the moment came when I could deal with the hoo hoo man no more.  I finally got to the point where it was more trouble than it was worth. Didn’t really want him around any more.  Save for one or two people who still write to me periodically, I have no one left from the past two and a half years (since January 2007) with whom I still communicate (talking of mansearch men).

I’m totally ok about that.  The other day, someone found me… someone whom I never actually met, and who lives in my town.  I finally told him that I wanted to end the conversations we were having on Facebook.  I think he finally got it.  Yes, all this has to do with the maturity that came after the surgery, and the forthrightness that has accompanied it.  After my mom died, I felt I had become a woman, and that I could handle nearly anything thrown my direction.

Yes, I know I was a woman many years before that, but now it’s different.  When your mom’s gone, your sort of alone…… in an ok way.  And now the blood that was with me for nearly 50 years is gone, as is my ability to have another child, to lactate and become a wet nurse.  I feel hormonally balanced for the first time since I was 8 years old — this is all in reflection, of course.

I am working steadily on my fabric piece.  Really, truly want to complete this one before I go on to the next.  

Right this moment, I feel a sense of peace returning to my body.  I am going to welcome it, then return to the living room to sew.

Looking forward to going to Washington in November.  I can now travel without worrying about what will have stained that sticky pad inside my pants (no sticky pads since September 30 last year).

Am I glad I made the decision to have the surgery?  Hell, yes.  I don’t really think I could have made it through the past few weeks if I hadn’t had it.  

I love who I am now.  Wow.  I haven’t said that before.  And as a friend keeps telling me, “Lots of people love you.”  Guess I’ll have to believe him, now that I know what it is to love myself.

Thanks to you all for being there through thick and thin…. mostly thick.  If you need to read my previous blogs about post hysterectomy month by month, you’ll have to search in here.  I usually wrote near the end of each month, but don’t really remember exactly when.  I’m looking forward to writing hysterectomy+ one year.  That’ll be at the end of September.

Here’s where my brain took me earlier today…

Later………..

to the workplace…

I’m off to the workplace for the first time since last Thursday.  It’s interesting.  Perhaps it is indeed true that I need to be around people, even if I choose not to be my usual communicative self.  (Eh?)  Well, what I perceive as my communicative self.  

Hoping that I will make it through the day.  The sooner I leave, the sooner I will get to come home.  As I sit here in front of the computer after having taken a lovely shower…. my head still wrapped in a towel …. I shirk away from what could await me, and decide not to think about it.

This is one of the first times that running away from an issue hasn’t precipitated actual running away. Maybe mental running is all I did.  The apartment is being straightened little by little; the projects are being completed bit by bit.

Must go towel dry my hair and body.  I’ll report in tonight.  

Tomorrow brings my hysterectomy update,,,, one year and ten months,  Wow.

Later…….

workplace…

Did go to work for about 5 hours yesterday.  My first foray into the unknown since last week.  Odd.  I arrived at 6:30am, a good hour and a half before any other colleagues arrived.  Got masses of work done in that time.  By 11am, I was itching to leave.  Time for the nap I have gotten used to?  

I’d had enough of what seemed irrelevant to the world, even though two weeks ago at this time, most seemed palpable.  Not yesterday.  

Finally put something into the newspaper about my mom’s passing…. of course at my own expense.  I’m not complaining, but thought people should be able to read something online, and one day in the paper – today.  For cost to be an issue is damnable.  I wrote what I wanted — only remembered a few things I’d like to have added after the fact.  

I’m strangely at peace.  I’ve done what I need to do, and have decided that I will collect my set of Noritake china from the house whenever Sam feels well enough to go with me.  I do not plan to go there alone again.  

Just had a phone call about Carl…. some people had been away when he died.  (big sigh heard round the world)

Going to work on red, black and white.  All beads and accoutrements ready for application. Today, I returned several vials of beads and some coral strands that I will not be using.  Exchanged for yellow and orange.  Guess that’s my next excursion.

Now for some cold tea…. 

Later………….

intent and determination….

one reaction…. to the recent death of my mother was to pull in reins, and cancel all activities.  To the contrary, my dear.  

I have not cancelled my November trip to Washington;

I am determined to go to Hawaii in the next couple of years;

I will spend time at the ocean periodically;

I will go to England, and maybe stay for a while.

Rarely do I go anywhere without purpose, without plans.  It’s time for exploration, to see why these places draw me back.  Day trips — or two-day trips are attractive, and with Mondays off, will be a probability.  I’m hoping that I can talk Sam into doing just that this week.

Before I go too far, I must release most of this pottery that is cluttering my life right now.  It is vibrating with desire to be owned by someone other than the person who formed it, who shaped it into current form.  I think, before long, that I will ask the manager of the apartments if I can use the community room for a show/sale.  Could be quite a lot of fun… and maybe even some profit.  Wow!  I like that idea.

I’m going to work on that concept right now.

later…………

is that you? yes, it’s me.

I’m trying to recognize myself, but the past few days have me flummoxed.  It seems my best way of coping with all the happenings is to let it all come out in my art.  From stitching beads and other fun things to the fabric pieces to getting my hands in mud, it’s all good.  The clay is the same but different.  Perhaps it is what’s going on inside me that’s different.

I am going out to visit with a friend.  The second non-family person with which I will have a conversation.  The first was with a friend who collects my art.  He was a great help.  There are so many things you can tell a friend that you wouldn’t necessarily tell a family member.

Back later………..

death becomes her….

My mom has drawn her last breath.  Claramae Whelchel Galvez Ro Sahmaunt has passed on to yet another experience.  I did go to the hospital yesterday where I stood with her, holding her hand, touching her shoulder for a long time.  I did assure her that we were all ok…. that is was ok to listen to the call of her mom, Grace Arena Stevens Whelchel Kaupalolo who passed nearly 15 years ago.

I heard her say “mama” at least once a few days ago.  That’s what she called her mother.  She is still in our hearts.

So strange that whatever has gone on personally between two people will never be public knowledge. This morning before I heard the news, I remembered some very discomforting occasions…. some that would have caused a lifetime severance of relationship between a mother and daughter.  Those were very difficult times.

She said I was put here to create in clay.  I will continue my pursuit.

later………..

drugs, strokes, death….

My mother is dying.  I can’t think straight or curved.  I keep expecting her to open her eyes, smile and start a conversation.  

She has been taken off meds — except for pain narcotics that have not allowed her back into reality since Saturday afternoon.  My stepfather has elected the “comfort care” level that comes with palliative care.  The surgery to repair the break in her femur was on Monday night.  She had strokes peri-operatively which have resulted in paralysis on right side, total blindness, inability to swallow.  

Is she with us?  We’ll never know.  The prospect of three months of total immobility (stroke affected same side as her surgery) along with care at a facility of some sort, inability to do anything for herself for many months or possibly forever was too daunting to consider. 

I am at home.  I can’t go back there.  I have released her from my grasp, and accept that the end is near.  Parting is deeply wounding.

90 doesn’t always mean old and feeble.  Anything but.  This is another story, my dears.

All of the healing powers in the universe cannot alter the devastation that has fouled her body.

I await news from the hospital.

later…………

fractures, surgery….and morphine

Yesterday, my mom who is 90 years old, fell in her bedroom while getting her clothing out of the closet for the day.  She crashed down on her right knee, resulting in a huge fracture of the femur just above the knee, and the femur smashing into the knee itself.  She will have surgery today or tomorrow to pull the offending femur out of the knee area and set the break with pins, screws and a 6″ metal plate.  Prognosis… bleak at best.  The morphine she has had in the last two days put her into what they called a narcotic induced delirium.  She rarely is awake, and when awake cannot tell you any facts about anything.  The internal med guy said that she may be this way from now until whenever, and may even get worse, as the pain from the femur fracture is the absolutely most painful kind ever.

She was talking to me yesterday afternoon, with clarity, but today at 9am, she was so out of it, I just sat watching her with disbelief.  I suppose the three months of immobility to come, and the projected lengthy stay in a sub-acute care facility are inevitable.  

Sam and I left the hospital this afternoon… we entrusted her to my step-dad and brother.  I can no longer be the responsible one — a role I have assumed through my entire life.  Perhaps it sounds like an ungrateful daughter to you, however, I am ok with my actions.

It is cruel to see a vibrant, lively minded woman who was just two days ago bopping around her home, now just laying in that hospital bed, not knowing what is happening around her, and not even aware that there is an “around her.”

I hate this situation.

later……………..

put on the glasses, silly…

Golly, I thought I had slept very late this morning.  As an early riser — between 5:30 and 6 am, I was stunned when I saw the clock read 7:30am.  I hopped out of bed, went to the bathroom, went back into the bedroom, and realized it was indeed 6:30am.  It is now 6:47am and I am going back to bed.  See previous post for reason.

I was awake last night until about midnight thirty or beyond.  Left on all the lights, fell into bed hoping to feel nothing.  I feel nothing but tiredness right now.  Perhaps it was a good thing I was having a massage as the voice mail came into my phone last evening telling me of the death of a long-time friend.

All happened as it was supposed to happen.  His family will be here from LA on Friday…brother, sister…. and one sister from Oregon.  They will view the body; it will be wrapped for cremation.  Following that, his cousin, Jason will sit shiva with the ashes for one night.  Still unknown where the ashes will be scattered… perhaps in the harbor in southern California with his mother and younger brother who passed one year ago Tuesday.

There will be a memorial service on August 9th, presumably at B’nai Israel, his workplace for over 30 years.  

Let this be a warning to you all……… this was a man of a mere 60 years whose illnesses were being treated, yet who allowed those illnesses to ravage his body. I believe he so wanted to be with his mother and brother, that he willed this to happen.  Jason, his cousin, said that when he viewed the body at the ER at UC Davis, cknjr looked amazingly peaceful, and as though he was going to open his eyes and smile at them at any minute.  A good memory for those who were there.

I will not now or ever go into my feelings in a public writing space.  This was a very personal matter, which I shall keep very personal.

In the words of my son, “Everybody dies.”  

So true.

classic.

Later…………

sad news….

Old friend Carl Naluai died this afternoon.  He was suffering from many illnesses, and was finally overcome by them.  After having returned to work at Congregation B’nai Israel as chazzan, and having had a successful meeting with the rabbi this morning about a concert in November he disappeared into his office, as usual.  He was found a few hours later slumped over his desk, glasses on, pen in hand, preparing to write the next note of music on the paper.

There will be no post mortem, as he had many illnesses and was being followed closely by doctors.

Goodbye, Carl.