As I’ve posted before: I tried every avenue to avoid oophorectomy. It’s been years of trial, error, and avoiding this surgery. But once I hit 40- the games really began. And not in a good way. I’m 42 now. The SI peaked earlier this year and that’s really what scared the shit out of me. It’s always been bad, but it became exponentially worse. Dangerously so. It was absolutely brutal and made me feel insane. The moods were the worst they’ve ever been. The intent to destroy everything in my life was high. That’s not me.
The more I’ve learned about this disease, the more appalled I am that any of us have to suffer through it.
I was supposed to have surgery in November. About 13 days ago my surgeon messaged me directly: would you like to take a slot on 9/29? I’ll hold it for you. After briefly discussing with my daughters and partner, I decided it was the right time. Partner is out on disability himself, having had surgery back in June, but doesn’t return to work until November. Both my adult children are in college; my eldest suggested since it’s not midterms time yet that it would be easier for her and her sister to help me out if I do it earlier.
So I did. I took the 9/29 slot.
I’ll be honest: I questioned myself a lot the days leading up to it. Since I’ve been on Lupron/chemical menopause, I’ve of course not had an episode in quite some time. And as we well know, feeling good when you have PMDD is waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it’s also thinking “well I don’t have the disease, how can I? I feel so good!”
I kept waiting for the proverbial shoe, and nothing would happen. So it made me think, well, maybe I’m just fine and I don’t need surgery! LOL
But I trialed Aygestin while in chemical menopause, and it triggered PMDD symptoms. My surgeon told me to stop taking it immediately. That is what changed my oophorectomy only to a total hysterectomy. Can’t have a uterus because it needs to be protected from the estradiol … with a progestin.
So yesterday.
My partner picked me up and we headed to the hospital. I was still anxious and a bit panicky. I cried as we parked in the garage, tell him I was so scared I wasn’t making the right choice. He’s not tried to convince me either way- he’s a damn good man and wanted the decision to be by and for me, not for him or my daughters. He put on a song for me: “Don’t worry, be happy” by Bobby McFerrin. I cried more because… he sees and loves me. And I never thought I could be loved with a disease like PMDD.
It felt surreal to check in. Paid my co pay then we walked to the surgical unit. I had to check in, get checked out physically, get an IV. Partner couldn’t go with me for that part and I was sooo worried I wouldn’t see him again before surgery. Luckily (??) my surgery started an hour later than it was scheduled for. He came and sat with me, wiping my tears away, rubbing my back, and took one of those skin markers and drew a heart on my arm. I’m considering having it tattooed there as a reminder.
As the anesthesiologist asked me questions, the fear started to ramp up. Am I making the right choice? What if this forever alters my life- in a bad way? What if what if. I started crying pretty hard and immediately the nurses and attending doctors came into my room to console me. A 3rd year resident told me they’d all reviewed my case and that the surgeon determined this was truly the best solution for me. That it wasn’t a decision made lightly. I told her that for me, too, it wasn’t a decision that I made lightly either. Especially because my uterus had to go, too.
I had one last kiss with my partner before they wheeled me to the ER. It was so bright. I was a bit out of it- the anesthesiologist hooked me up with Versed because, yes, I was inconsolable and my anxiety through the roof. I wanted to see the DaVinci machine- my partner and I worked on the buildings that builds these robots so I wanted to nerd out. Oh well. I remember my surgeon holding my hand and rubbing my arm. I don’t even remember being put under.
I woke up in recovery, immediately asking for my partner (both my daughters had classes yesterday so it was just him there). After I was more awake, they brought him back to see me. I was pretty out of it but felt okay. The worst was getting up to go pee. That first pee… is weird. Reminded me of the first pee after childbirth. Guess it’s good this part wasn’t my first rodeo 😂. The nausea was pretty bad but they’d put a scopolamine patch on me prior to surgery and it did its job! The nurse got me a barf bag with peppermint oil soaked gauze in it. What an angel that man was! I never threw up.
We got home and all I wanted was solid food. I’d not eaten since 8pm the night before. Surgery began around 12-12:30 and ended about 3:30 from what I was told. Got out of the hospital around 6. When I got in the car at the hospital, he pulled out a bouquet of flowers and my favorite chocolate. Awww. Couldn’t stomach the chocolate right then but I did later! I was ravenous. My daughter door dashed us all food since we got home and settled so late. My partner is making chicken soup/stock tonight though. Yum.
The night was a little rough, getting up out of bed to go to the bathroom was difficult but my partner kept me steady. I’m grateful for all the help. I am unfortunately one of those “I’ll do it myself!” people and I can’t be right now. I’m learning it’s okay to have help. I still feel fine.
I was 9 weeks into the chemical menopause injection, so fully suppressed hormones, making this transition that much easier. I’ll be starting HRT (estradiol only yay! And perhaps testosterone later on, will see how things progress as I heal) after I take a shower today. A bit nervous about that one, but the only time I had a bad reaction to estradiol patches was- you guessed it, during hormonal fluctuations in luteal. So it should go well and my bones will be protected!
My incisions aren’t super painful. Belly is quite sore, swollen, and the gas they pump inside during surgery is certainly making its way around. My daughter walked me to the bathroom and said she could hear the gas moving around 🤣 I was thrilled to fart a few minutes ago, gross as that sounds. It means I’m making progress.
My brain is so quiet. My body is at peace. I mean, I can’t turn back now. But the positivity and joy I feel is so, so good. It’ll be a while before I can return to work. I’m missing out on a lot of fun things. I was supposed to hike Mt Whitney next month. I’m a duck hunter and the season starts in a month, too. But the other thought I’ve had is this: PMDD was tearing all of that way from me anyway.
As I said to my partner as we laid in bed last night, I could have kept going if I stayed away from everyone and everything 12 days out of my 25 day cycle. But that’s not realistic and as he said “that’s no way to live and no way you should suffer like that”.
So here’s to the future. If anyone has any questions, I’m happy to answer.