It's over. I'm home. Surgery went...well, as good as can be expected, I suppose. Once my doctor got in there, he discovered that he could do just laprascopic surgery, so there was no additional slicing, dicing or hospital stay. Just three punctures, one in my bell button (the most painful), one underneath my belly button on the bikini line and one above my right ovary. They removed one 11cm cyst, one 3cm cyst and took a good look at the lady bits.
Here's the news. My right ovary and fallopian tube are 50% damaged from what he thinks might be endometriosis. The left ovary is 5% damaged, and the left tube is undamaged. However, there was no current evidence of endometriosis seen in the cavity, and my edometrial biopsy looked good. There was no cancer, no lumps, no things that shouldn't have been there (save for the cysts), and so he says that I have a very good chance of conceiving, perhaps using Clomid or something like that to stimulate that lefty.
As for the surgery, I remember crying because I was afraid and regretting not bringing my daughter's teddy bear in the operating room with me (it was in my bag). They told me to take some deep breaths with the oxygen mask, so I did. Then they said, we're turning on the medication. So I took another deep breath. They said, take one more. I took one more and then the next thing I remember, I was being wheeled into recovery. I had a dream while out, but I don't remember what it was about.
In recovery, I cried more (apparently the drugs can make people really emotional), and tried to keep my eyes open. My throat hurt from the breathing tube, and my voice was scratchy, but after coughing a bit, that went away. They monitored me for about half an hour, and then I was sent back into day surgery. I fell asleep pretty much instantly for an hour and a half.
When I woke up from that nap, I had to pee, so I stood up and waddled to the bathroom (with some help from a nurse). While in the bathroom, I totally blanched, and nearly barfed. I just had this horrific wave of nausea wash over me (a few times). Apparently I opened the door as white as a sheet, and I was broken out in a cold sweat. They put me back in bed and tossed a bag of Gravol onto my IV. I slept more.
Elodie and Robbie apparently were ducking in and out throughout this time. Finally, at 6:00, I felt well enough to sit up again, and get dressed. Robbie wheeled me down to the car, and then drove me home. I went to bed. I slept. There may have been some macaroons eaten. Robbie cooked me tomato soup for dinner. It was the best tomato soup ever (especially considering I hadn't eaten since 10:00 p.m. the night before).
Today, I'm sore. I mean, I'm as sore as yesterday, but in a different way. The bellybutton incision is hurting the most at this point, and I'm bloated and tired. There was quite a bit of pain from the gas that was used to inflate my tum, and it was radiating into my shoulder. But I can't complain really. My cyst is gone. My body is going to recover quickly. I am healthy. I'm sad about my ovarian damage, but I think with eating the right way, eating well, it's okay. I will be fine. It will handle the damage.
So. ONWARD! 2011 will be my year for a baby!!!
8.31.2010
8.27.2010
8.26.2010
So Long...
My great-uncle and godfather, Danny, passed away today. He was not yet 60.
I hadn't seen him in the last decade, but my memories of him stand out. He had a strong jaw, sparkly eyes and a wry grin. He was quick to tease. He cracked jokes almost constantly. He bought me screwdrivers at my great-aunt's wedding (more orange juice than vodka, now that I remember it), and he showed me how to find the North Star one night at a family reunion by following the two stars of the Big Dipper. I still look for it whenever I spot the dipper.
Part of me is screaming, GO TO THE FUNERAL! Although I am no longer religious, he was my godfather, and that counts as something to me still. He was my favourite great-uncle, and by far one of the funniest. In a family like mine, it's hard to stand out with so many people. I have 18 first cousins, and my mom has well over 50 firsts on just one side. But stand out Danny did.
If anything good can be said of this, he was taken while still young, before being sapped of strength and wit and humour. He was taken after he'd raised his children, and when he'd seen his grandkids, and when they have formed lasting memories of him.
I just feel so awful for my aunt, and so sad that I cannot go to say goodbye due to my surgery. For one long moment, I considered cancelling it, but I can't. I just can't keep waiting for it, and goodness knows how long it would take for me to get an appointment. Probably three months. So I will think of Danny, and send positive thoughts to my aunt. I will look for the North Star every time I see the Big Dipper, and I will remember him.
I hadn't seen him in the last decade, but my memories of him stand out. He had a strong jaw, sparkly eyes and a wry grin. He was quick to tease. He cracked jokes almost constantly. He bought me screwdrivers at my great-aunt's wedding (more orange juice than vodka, now that I remember it), and he showed me how to find the North Star one night at a family reunion by following the two stars of the Big Dipper. I still look for it whenever I spot the dipper.
Part of me is screaming, GO TO THE FUNERAL! Although I am no longer religious, he was my godfather, and that counts as something to me still. He was my favourite great-uncle, and by far one of the funniest. In a family like mine, it's hard to stand out with so many people. I have 18 first cousins, and my mom has well over 50 firsts on just one side. But stand out Danny did.
If anything good can be said of this, he was taken while still young, before being sapped of strength and wit and humour. He was taken after he'd raised his children, and when he'd seen his grandkids, and when they have formed lasting memories of him.
I just feel so awful for my aunt, and so sad that I cannot go to say goodbye due to my surgery. For one long moment, I considered cancelling it, but I can't. I just can't keep waiting for it, and goodness knows how long it would take for me to get an appointment. Probably three months. So I will think of Danny, and send positive thoughts to my aunt. I will look for the North Star every time I see the Big Dipper, and I will remember him.
Nervously Awake
The time is 12:11. I cannot sleep. The reason, I believe, is two-fold. One, it is fricking hot in my house. The dogs both pant like mad under the bed, and unless I'm exhausted, it's just an exercise in annoyance. Two, and perhaps the more truthful reason I've laid in bed for the last hour, stared at the ceiling, tossed and turned, counted sheep (what else?) and let rather loud, long sighs escape from my mouth is that I'm nervous. You see, Monday, I go into surgery.
Now, I'm a very healthy person. I mean, I haven't always eaten healthy, and I don't always exercise the way I'm supposed to, but I'm rarely ill. I only get one or two bad colds a year, which is pretty darn good, considering my child comes home from day care every day covered in goodness knows what kind of germs, and my husband seems to be a walking case of tonsillitis. I have never broken a bone. I've never had to stay overnight in a hospital for a reason other than having completed the cycle of growing a small, screaming human and pushing said screaming human out of somewhere the sun don't shine. Hell, I haven't even had stitches since I was two and fell off a table. But in four days, I will be willingly going into a hospital, going under general anesthetic, getting an IV (!!!), getting cut open, and having a piece of ME removed. True, it's not a good piece. It's a really crappy piece, a hanger-on, something that MUST go, but it's still a piece of ME.
And here's the other kicker. I won't know exactly what kind of surgery I'm getting until I wake up from it. See, in case I haven't mentioned, my cyst is a whopping ten centimetres in diametre. Or it was at its largest. It's since shrunk by about a centimetre and is 9.1 in diametre now, but come on! That's a SWATCH!!! Only it's a 3-D swatch, so it's like a 10-cm diametre swatch knitted in the round! And they don't know exactly what it is. We know almost definitively that it is not a tumor. Tumors don't shrink, for one thing, and they're usually not filled with fluid, for another. But they still may need to take the thing whole, and when they get in there with a laproscopy (medical talk for a periscope-esque tube that is inserted into the affected area through which non-invasive surgery can be done), if the cyst does need to come out whole, they'll cut me open, remove said cyst, and then staple and stitch me up.
I'm a planner, and this idea that I won't find out if it's a day surgery versus a three-night stay surgery is rather...terrifying. And generally speaking, I'm a little bossy, and not having control of what's going to happen is also terrifying. So I'm awake, consoling myself with some cherries, debating putting a movie on and knitting, and generally not happy.
I just have to keep reminding myself, this is for our family's future. This is so we can have another baby. This is to achieve that goal. A quick surgery is surely better than another two years of trying, right? RIGHT?! Beuler?
Now, I'm a very healthy person. I mean, I haven't always eaten healthy, and I don't always exercise the way I'm supposed to, but I'm rarely ill. I only get one or two bad colds a year, which is pretty darn good, considering my child comes home from day care every day covered in goodness knows what kind of germs, and my husband seems to be a walking case of tonsillitis. I have never broken a bone. I've never had to stay overnight in a hospital for a reason other than having completed the cycle of growing a small, screaming human and pushing said screaming human out of somewhere the sun don't shine. Hell, I haven't even had stitches since I was two and fell off a table. But in four days, I will be willingly going into a hospital, going under general anesthetic, getting an IV (!!!), getting cut open, and having a piece of ME removed. True, it's not a good piece. It's a really crappy piece, a hanger-on, something that MUST go, but it's still a piece of ME.
And here's the other kicker. I won't know exactly what kind of surgery I'm getting until I wake up from it. See, in case I haven't mentioned, my cyst is a whopping ten centimetres in diametre. Or it was at its largest. It's since shrunk by about a centimetre and is 9.1 in diametre now, but come on! That's a SWATCH!!! Only it's a 3-D swatch, so it's like a 10-cm diametre swatch knitted in the round! And they don't know exactly what it is. We know almost definitively that it is not a tumor. Tumors don't shrink, for one thing, and they're usually not filled with fluid, for another. But they still may need to take the thing whole, and when they get in there with a laproscopy (medical talk for a periscope-esque tube that is inserted into the affected area through which non-invasive surgery can be done), if the cyst does need to come out whole, they'll cut me open, remove said cyst, and then staple and stitch me up.
I'm a planner, and this idea that I won't find out if it's a day surgery versus a three-night stay surgery is rather...terrifying. And generally speaking, I'm a little bossy, and not having control of what's going to happen is also terrifying. So I'm awake, consoling myself with some cherries, debating putting a movie on and knitting, and generally not happy.
I just have to keep reminding myself, this is for our family's future. This is so we can have another baby. This is to achieve that goal. A quick surgery is surely better than another two years of trying, right? RIGHT?! Beuler?
8.23.2010
Weigh-In Friday (Monday) and Update...
I went to my weigh-in on Friday, and I was pleased to find I hadn't gained anything while on vacation. Considering all the eating I did (and not mentioning the drinking...), that makes me very happy. I had an ultrasound last week, and I'm pleased to announce that my diet change is working. Not only have I shed some major pounds and dropped at least one dress size in just under three months, but I've also started healing.
My endometrial lining, which was excessively thickened just three months ago, is now normal. My cysts are smaller. Not significantly so, but one centimetre on each of them. I'm still going in for surgery next week, but I'm going in much less terrified. Tumors don't shrink, you see.
So overall, I'm feeling great, looking good, and you know, when we start trying again, we might stand a fighting chance.
ONWARD!
My endometrial lining, which was excessively thickened just three months ago, is now normal. My cysts are smaller. Not significantly so, but one centimetre on each of them. I'm still going in for surgery next week, but I'm going in much less terrified. Tumors don't shrink, you see.
So overall, I'm feeling great, looking good, and you know, when we start trying again, we might stand a fighting chance.
ONWARD!
8.19.2010
Revelstoke Socks
I just released my third pattern! YAY! I'm well on track for meeting my design goal this year of five.
Allow me to introduce Revelstoke Socks.
I am so, SO happy with how they turned out. Do check out the Rav page.
This pattern is available for purchase for $3.00 CDN.
Allow me to introduce Revelstoke Socks.
I am so, SO happy with how they turned out. Do check out the Rav page.
This pattern is available for purchase for $3.00 CDN.
8.18.2010
Home Sweet Home
Our vacation ended on Saturday, which was sad, but okay. We did the whole drive from Vancouver to Calgary in one day, which is crazy - especially when your husband is POSITIVE that the Coquihalla Highway is NOT the fastest or even correct route to Calgary, despite both his wife AND the GPS telling him it is, and therefore lengthens the trip from twelve hours to fourteen by taking the Trans Canada. This was only slightly improved by my ability to spout snarky one-liners the entire way home. "Good thing I bought two pounds of cherries or we surely would have starved." "Good thing I brought an extra ball of yarn." And my personal favorite, "Hey, look! Jackass Mountain!"
Anyway, we trucked in at 11:00 at night and all fell into bed. And can I just say, to those makers of in-car DVD players, may the yarn gods swathe you in fluffy goodness for the rest of your days. I feel like they should be on those Visa commercials. You know, carrot sticks, $1, Dora the Explorer water bottle, $5, in-car DVD player, $100. Sanity? Effing priceless, my friends.
Now then, a brief photo montage of our trip. :)
Hitting the road
Pit stop one
Tea in the Enchanted Forest!!!
Playing in the lake near Revelstoke
Our accommodations for the night (which rocked).
Day two of travel - thank you, video gods!
Jellies in the Vancouver Aquarium.
Watching the dolphins
Big tree in Lynn Canyon
Ate gelatto on Granville Island
Played in Deep Cove (home of my awesome aunt and uncle and their family, who were nice enough to host us for a week)
Knit while waiting for the ferry to go to Vancouver Island
Entertained the guy behind me (he thought I was nuts, I'm sure)
Visited friends and their cute arse children
Saw sheep! Who have LONG tails.
Got a family picture to treasure
Saw lots of slugs
Ate the best sushi ever in Tofino
Caught crabs (the good kind)
Rinsed a very nekkid, very sandy little girl off in a very cold ocean. Not pleasant, but cute.
Hunted for seashells on Long Beach near Tofino (it's as cold as it looks).
Watched Elodie discover the joy of the side ponytail
Checked out Cathedral Grove and the 800 year old tree
Figured out the shawls are also good for cooling off statues so little bums can sit on them
Poked some (already dead) jelly fish with sticks
Saw the HUGEST spider I've ever seen in Canada.
Played on the Spanish Banks
So there you have it! Our travels. It was terrific, and we really enjoyed it. The weather was spectacular, with only one day of rain the whole time.
Oh, and those socks up there? Revelstoke socks. Pattern coming soon!
Anyway, we trucked in at 11:00 at night and all fell into bed. And can I just say, to those makers of in-car DVD players, may the yarn gods swathe you in fluffy goodness for the rest of your days. I feel like they should be on those Visa commercials. You know, carrot sticks, $1, Dora the Explorer water bottle, $5, in-car DVD player, $100. Sanity? Effing priceless, my friends.
Now then, a brief photo montage of our trip. :)
Hitting the road
Pit stop one
Tea in the Enchanted Forest!!!
Playing in the lake near Revelstoke
Our accommodations for the night (which rocked).
Day two of travel - thank you, video gods!
Jellies in the Vancouver Aquarium.
Watching the dolphins
Big tree in Lynn Canyon
Ate gelatto on Granville Island
Played in Deep Cove (home of my awesome aunt and uncle and their family, who were nice enough to host us for a week)
Knit while waiting for the ferry to go to Vancouver Island
Entertained the guy behind me (he thought I was nuts, I'm sure)
Visited friends and their cute arse children
Saw sheep! Who have LONG tails.
Got a family picture to treasure
Saw lots of slugs
Ate the best sushi ever in Tofino
Caught crabs (the good kind)
Rinsed a very nekkid, very sandy little girl off in a very cold ocean. Not pleasant, but cute.
Hunted for seashells on Long Beach near Tofino (it's as cold as it looks).
Watched Elodie discover the joy of the side ponytail
Checked out Cathedral Grove and the 800 year old tree
Figured out the shawls are also good for cooling off statues so little bums can sit on them
Poked some (already dead) jelly fish with sticks
Saw the HUGEST spider I've ever seen in Canada.
Played on the Spanish Banks
So there you have it! Our travels. It was terrific, and we really enjoyed it. The weather was spectacular, with only one day of rain the whole time.
Oh, and those socks up there? Revelstoke socks. Pattern coming soon!
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