Today is my first day back at work after surgery and because I was gone so long they revoked access to all the systems that I use which means I can do doodley squat. The only thing I got done was requesting access and setting passwords. Whoo hoo!
Anyway, it the first day I’ve worn real pants and it was a big mistake, by noon I was in pain and wishing that I hadn’t driven to work because 800mg of ibuprofen is just dulling the edge. I want good drugs like my vicoprofen. I have to stop on the way home to pick up some prescriptions or I wouldn’t have driven at all.
So almost 9 weeks ago I had surgery and today I downloaded the surgery report and found out what they did. It was a whole lot more than I thought. I know that they removed the adnexal mass – translation a huge 14.2 cm tumour the consistency of a large water balloon according to the doctor but he also removed a benign neoplasm on my ovary as well as both ovaries and the fallopian tubes. I had “matted ovaries to the pelvic sidewalls and severe adhesions in the pelvic and bowel as well as “extensive retroperitoneal fibrosis”. In other words, they rotorootered everything. That last is usually only done on men according to my medical dictionary and means my kidneys and bladder were in real danger of being strangled. Whatever the hell a matted ovary is, I just know I was really sick. Everybody at work is commenting about how much better I look than when I left. I must have looked like hell.
I’m still processing that I don’t have cancer. Three different doctors were convinced I had cancer and today I read that that kind of tumour has a 99% malignancy rate. How did I end up the 1%?
I hate the word miracle and I don’t really believe in them. I got too tired of growing up hearing that the fact that I could see after my experimental surgery when I was little was a “miracle”. I don’t think it was, I had a really good eye surgeon that was really sure he could fix things and he did. Calling it a miracle is to denigrate the doctors skill, training and knowledge. But now I’m wondering if may be this time it was a small one. I had a lot of people praying for me, sending energy and reiki and just being there for me. I had just about every risk factor and symptom including a lot that aren’t very common. The tumour was solid on ct scan, ultrasound and on MRI, solid tumours are usually cancerous according to the doctors. I had tested positive on the CA 100 and it is an inaccurate test they said unless you are menopausal and have had a hysterectomy and then is fairly accurate. When they opened me up it wasn’t solid. I know I was very sick and I was very sure it was cancer but somehow it changed so maybe there are small miracles. Something happened and when I got home from 4 days in the hospital my sister and I had several visitation complete with perfume smells. That hadn’t happened in a while.
I got really sick during the second night and by morning had a really high fever. They couldn’t give me any ibuprofen because the doc had okayed Tylenol which I’m allergic to and they didn’t get a hold of him until that night. I spent the day with my armpits packed in various amounts of ice. Wasn’t that a fun way to spend the day? NOT!
That hospital also has the worst food of any hospital I have ever been in and I’ve been in a few. So I couldn’t even distract myself with eating something. I had the worst grilled cheese sandwich I have ever had. It looked beautiful but tasted like a mattress cover and I love grilled cheese and they are hard to ruin but they managed it.
4 days of misery before I could go home to my nice firm bed and own bathroom. And then 8 plus weeks to heal. And I guess I still am because today I’m hurting but one day at a time, right?