Yuck

I don't know how many ways I can describe the awfulness of an endo-cervical cutterage without scaring readers away. It hurts. They don't give you pain killers until after. And it makes me cry from the pit of my soul.

I was under the impression that I would have a brief exam by the Gyno and then consult with the surgeon afterward. Luckily for me my doc here at home did not send the slides from my last exam, I got to have everything redone by the docs at the Mayo in Rochester. Pap, Colposcopy, and ECC... all while be observed by the hottest doctor I have ever seen.

This Gyno was good. She obviously wasn't going to be taking any risks, or wasting my time with multiple appointments. I have much more confidence in her, than my home doc. Her Eastern European accent was easy enough to understand for the most part, and I really think that she has a good head on her shoulders. It just seemed with me, she was a little distracted.

By the time she had arrived in the exam room, I had been waiting for at least a half hour with no pants on. I had to sneak out at one point with a sheet wrapped around me looking for a bathroom, and when I got back, there was still no sign of her. When she did arrive she was with a tall man in a suit and a name tag. She introduced herself and then him as Dr. Whatisname and then continued with the exam. I looked at his name tag and it said he was a maxiofacial doctor, which I understand to be an oral surgeon.

I understand that Mayo is a teaching hospital, but I didn't understand why the guy that does root canals was observing my baby canal. I also couldn't help but notice he was one of the most attractive men I've ever seen in person. Did it help with the exam, not really. Considering the Gyno was talking to him the whole time, and having him 'take a look for himself' the torturous exam took twice as long as normal. He was respectful and all that, and was lucky I guess to observe an 'unsatifactory coloposcopy', but give a girl a break here.

So, as for cancer again, I don't know, but it's not looking too great. Waiting back for word from their results. There was a missed call on my phone today from a number from Rochester, but no message. Hard to say what that means.

Here's hopin.

Next Step

I have my next appointment set up for April 6th. I am both nervous and non committal. There is only the appointments to see an OB/GYN for more poking and prodding and then the consulting with the surgeon.

I've come to understand that I'm supposed to feel used to this by now. In many ways I do. This is just another step in the process. I have done this step several times. I'm mostly expecting to not find out any information at all. Just more 'we don't know'.

I try not to get mad at the medical community. The impression that doctors know more than they do is the fault of the patient as much as the rules of society. I'm consulting them for their opinion. In the end it is always my choice towards the action.

I discussed with my parents that if they have nothing definitive to give me, I'm not going to undergo any surgery. That decision has given me some peace.

Waiting

Waiting seems to be a theme in my life right now. Maybe I should embrace this as my opportunity for enlightenment on the subject. Tracked the doctor down after his vacation and he's passing the towel over to the 'expert' at the Mayo Clinic. I have to wait to get into to see her, though. So I'm not sure when it will be that I'll get more information.

I'm going to concentrate on being in perfect health.

Vacation

The problem with doctoring in the winter in the north is that it is so freaking cold that everyone leaves in February. It is nearly impossible to get anything done quickly in February if it involves someone going on vacation.

One month later, I have finally the results from the last procedure (after my doc returned from vacation)... and they are indicative of more waiting. Good news: No sign of cancer. Annoying News: Have to travel to see specialist to determine next step since everything is not hunky dory. Even more annoying news: Have to wait for local doc to contact specialist doc and wait for the Mayo Clinic to contact me about an appointment. So, you know. That will be weeks from now.

Good thing I'm not dying. ;)

Naming this Blog

I'm having trouble with this blog as of late. I started it talking about working with Hospice because it was such a profound experience. Now it seems to be a place to talk about my horrible doctor visits and being treated for Cancer that I may or may not have.

I decided several months ago that I couldn't hold it in anymore, because it was eating me alive. I had only told a few friends, and hadn't even told my best friends that it had possibly come back. My parents, sisters, and boyfriend were the only ones that knew anything about it. So I spilled my guts, and I feel better.

I don't want to talk about it so much any more. I mean, I will definitely keep people updated, but I certainly don't want to feed the ghouls so to speak. So what do I talk about then? The people that I massage? Professionalism and HIPPA prevent me from doing that. Things that are unimportant, like the hundreds of fake band names I come up with? People seem to like my writing, from what I gather (which is sometimes difficult to do).

So, I'm just going to say what I want. Right? Yes. Right. I'm in charge here. ;)

Speaking of Updates:
I have not heard word one from Doc. It's been nearly 3 weeks. What does this mean?
According to my sister, who is a newspaper reporter, my Doc is at a conference this week. I don't know how she knows this, but small towns can be creepy sometimes.

Maybe I'll Rename this blog The Rub Down.

I'm tired of worrying

I am still waiting for the updated prognosis. However, I am tired of worrying about it. So I decided I'm not going to. I could waste my time, pre-worrying about something that I don't know the outcome of and make myself miserable, or I can enjoy each day I have. I think I'm going to vote for enjoyment.

Recluse

I haven't been good myself. I have shut myself away from the world and anything that makes me have to answer questions or have conversations.

I am not dying, but I do not want to explain. My friends and family know better, however. They know that I am struggling with two many worries in my basket. They want to know why I haven't read their blogs, or updated them on my health. What exactly do those cryptic status statements on facebook mean, anyway?

Whether you have an abnormal pap smear, or cervical cancer, or just a regular check up... Pelvic exams are not fun. Up until this last year, they rated higher than rectal exams and enemas on my list of fun things to do, but that has quickly diminished. Since June, I have had 8 pelvic invasions of the medical variety. They have varied in complexity and pain, from the merely uncomfortable to the horrendously awful. Last week I experienced the most horrible of all procedures I have had to endure. It defied any strength of character that I possessed and sent me into hiding ever since.

Since my last pap came back with severe dysplasia (that's one step before cancer, as I understand it) after I had surgery to remove all hooglie googlie cells, the docs were not happy. They did another LEEP procedure, a difficult and uncomfortable procedure involving an electrified scalpel and local anesthesia. A procedure which I was doing okay with until they removed tissue from an area that had not been numbed. The results from that biopsy was... good. It was normal, with no abnormal cells and no cancer! Whoo hoo! *shaking head no* Not so says the doc, because the other test showed abnormal, so they have to be coming from somewhere. Somewhere deeper. Where we can't see. Enter in the Endocervical Extraction. I was warned that it would be uncomfortable but comforted by the fact that it would be quick. It only takes a second to feel the pain as the doctor blindly inserts, prods, and pulls out pieces of you, with out the benefit of painkillers.

I started crying. It took all I had not to throw up. When the nurse and doctor left the room, I just sat and stared at my feet. What am I doing? What I have I done? Why do I have to go through this?

Earlier in the summer, I breezed through these procedures with hardly a thought. I was still numb I guess. In shock over it all. I felt guilty that I had not suffered. Now each visit is excruciating, filled with nothing concrete and soul wrenching pain. Now I wait. Wait for news that i don't know what do with, how to feel about, or wish for. I wish for no cancer, but that will not preclude me from further surgery if there are abnormal cells.

This is what has been keeping me up nights, and avoiding my phone during the days. Today is a good day and I grow weary of hiding myself. Perhaps it is the warmer temperatures, finally above 10 degrees, and the sunshine. Maybe it is love and concern of my friends. Maybe I'm just weary of myself.

More waiting...

I have mentioned a couple times in this blog that my mother has always advised against getting too attached to your plans. I am reminded of this advice on a constant basis lately.

In September, I underwent surgery to remove pieces of myself. Pieces of my physical body and my spiritual self. I tried to explain to my sister what it was like. The 'procedures' leading up to the surgery were worse than the surgery itself. I was awake for the procedures as they prodded around inside my cervix. My sister has two children, so I hoped that she would understand the profound connection that woman have to their reproductive abilities. My entire biological imperative; my purpose as a woman was being violated. I could feel pieces of my identity being pulled away from me bit by bit. I felt it in my very core, as if I was removing part of my soul.

I know intellectually that it had to be done. My life and my future chance at fulfilling my purpose depended on it. After the surgery, and the confidence of the surgeon left me feeling relieved. I had done the right thing for myself, my future, and I only need to take care of my health. Report for 3 month check ups for 2 years and avoid alcohol, cigarettes, and stress.

I had my first 3 month check up in December. My doctor called after the beginning of the year. I had resolved to let 2008 cast a pallor on my future. It had been a tough year, but I'm made of sterner stuff than that. Plus I had a new year in town, and it showed the shiny new gleam of promise. That gleam was tarnished after talking to my doctor about the pap results. Not only was there more dysplasia, it was severe... after less than 3 months. The doctor, surgeon, and I are still stunned.

I remind myself that this is what 3 month check ups are for. That this isn't as yet, a life or death situation. I am still crushed. I thought I it was over. I didn't know if my soul could handle another LEEP procedure. The electrified scalpel, the numbing injections, the florescent lights in my eyes, and that god awful green paint on the walls. Once again, it was awful, but I survived it. Now I just wait. Wait to see if more cancer was found within. Wait to see if my purpose is put further at risk. Wait to see the ultimate boundaries of my strength.