If I know what it is I’m not as worried about it. When pain is shrouded in mystery I pay close attention to it. I don’t like to admit that I have any pain, I don’t want the pain to have the power of my acknowledgement. Three months ago I was under the knife and I did all the right things to heal quickly and completely. I like to brag about how I only used the pain meds for the first 4 days while I was in the hospital and then used essential oils to manage my recovery from there. I went back to work teaching dance on the 6th wednesday following my operation. (yes i am tooting my own horn, what a lovely tune I play-right?)
Well there’s pain. My sweet groom had the thought of taking me to the ER on Monday because it got so bad, but I reassured him I would take care of it Tuesday. I called my trusty Dr the moment their office opened and got in right away, blood work and ultrasound revealed that my appendix is fine and I haven’t any hemorrhagic cysts. They did reveal 4 new fibriods.
“They are little” said my Dr. “Don’t worry about them Kate.” He says “Take a laxative, and call me in the morning.” I’m mildly offended because I’m not stopped up-that’s not what brought me in here, and I think I would know if I was. Also I’m a hippie who does not want chemical poop movers, all I eat is vegetables and lean meat anyways. So I decide to do colon hydrotherapy and have my guts power washed out. (that experience is its own post) Still pain… Now I have these fibroids on my mind.
Its true that many women have them, and I can have a perfectly lovely pregnancy with them when they are this small. I can’t understand how they have already grown back, completely uninvited. These punks just barged into my very well cared for body and take up residence. I wan to say “This means war” alas we all know I’ve been at war with them and their predecessors for months. To quote my favorite live song ever Thanksgiving, by my favorite singer Stephen Kellogg “Lucky for us I’m not a guy that gives up, I never give up”. So lets go guts, you and me lets have it out, put em up. Actually-if you could just roll over and give up that would be fine too.
As a rose colored glasses wearer I would like to offer you this positive sentiment to wrap up today’s meeting. Here is a picture of cuties measured out to the exact gram (352) the mass of fibriods I defeated 3 months ago yesterday. (I hear cheering from the crowd! And at least one redneck whistle, thanks Dad)