The Surgery Results

It’s official. I’m uterus-less. And fallopian tube-less. And appendix-less. Wait, what?!?! The day after the surgery, when my favorite resident was sitting down and chatting with my mom and I, she casually mentioned taking out my appendix. Somehow my mom knew, but this was brand-new information to me.

“Wait, you took my appendix out?!”

“Yes. Dr. Goff said it had high risk of perforation, so she took it out so you wouldn’t need another surgery.”

Apparently there was some stuff on my appendix that could make it burst. Also, my appendix was super long, much longer than normal, and Dr. Goff didn’t want it to get radiated and also burst. Essentially, my appendix would have burst some day and emergency surgery is never fun. This also goes to prove that my body is just greaaaaaaaat at growing things. Babies, cancer, organs, etc.

But back to the surgery. Dr. Goff said everything went great. At least, as well as a radical hysterectomy could go for a 32 year-old who can never have a baby. All my margins came back negative and the lymph node she took was negative as well. There was still cancer in what was left of my cervix, so she was 100% confident that this surgery was the correct decision.

I’m actually doing pretty well a week-and-half later. I almost have feeling back in  my stomach. It’s the strangest feeling. I can put my hand on where it’s numb, or coming back, and I can tell something is there but I can’t feel anything. I’m sleeping pretty well now. The first week was painful, it hurt to roll over, to lay down, to lay on a certain side, but it’s better now. Not 100%, but maybe 90%. I’m probably not walking as much as I should, but I went on a walk Monday after work and made it half the block before I needed to turn around. I couldn’t even make it to the mailbox. Tomorrow we’re going to Missoula though, so wish me luck there.

It’s a little hard realizing the surgery has come and gone. I spent so much of my time fearing the hysterectomy. Losing the ability to carry a baby is heartbreaking and I never thought it would happen to me. When it finally happened though, I felt ready. Ready to close this chapter and start the next one. It showed during the anesthesia as well. I vaguely remember crying on the way to surgery, but I didn’t cry when I came out of it. To be fair, whatever anesthetic concoction they  mixed for me this time was a doozy. I felt sleepy even before Dan left pre-op, and I don’t remember coming out of it at all. I can’t remember post-op, and I sort of remember being in my room with my parents, best friend, and Dan. Dan went to Din Tai Fung with his parents and tried to feed me some fried rice, which I gagged on and demanded a popsicle. Apparently I was also demanding popsicles in post-op. I turn into a 5-year-old in the hospital.

I’ve been back at work since Monday so that has helped keep my mind off things. Even if Monday was a lot of cringing and staring at the computer screen wondering what I was doing. My mother-in-law has also offered to take us on a South American cruise in February, which is beyond amazing. I have put a ton of effort into research cruises and itineraries. It’s helped me not to focus on our journey to have a baby.

Our next step is chemo and radiation. I have an appointment on Monday, June 26 to discuss chemo, and another one Friday, June 30 for radiation treatment. This is when I learned that a) they’re different doctors, b) the universe wants me to support the oil industry by making my appointments in Missoula on two different days. I have a follow-up appointment in Seattle on July 10.

Ah Seattle. I miss Seattle, and my friends. While Montana is beautiful, I’ve learned I’m a city girl at heart and can’t wait to get back home some day.

Until then…

XOXO,

Gossett Girl

The Night Before

Tomorrow I go in for my radical hysterectomy. It’s been a long road to get here, and I was hoping this would happen right after giving birth to our baby (or you know, not at all). Unfortunately, cancer doesn’t really care what you want, or your plans for your future. It does whatever it wants, sort of like a drunk girl trying to fight through her friends to get back into the club to keep dancing. Not that that was me at all this past weekend, at 1am, two shots of Jameson too many… nope…

Anyways. I can’t believe we’re at this point. I cried when the plane took off from the Missoula airport, and when we landed in Seattle. Whoever thought at 32, I would be losing the ability to ever have children. I know we are lucky that we had a successful round of IVF, but it pains me to know I’ll never be able to carry our baby. Looking at pregnant women with huge tummies pulls at my heart.

I’ll be honest, I do feel like a fraud knowing that if we have kids, it wasn’t me who carried them. It doesn’t mean I feel like less of a woman, but I wonder how I can contribute to future pregnancy conversations. I can talk about being pregnant up to 16 weeks, but I never had a prominent belly. I just looked like I was packing on the winter weight. I’ll never get to join in friendly conversations about third trimester woes and giving birth.

I’m at a weird place knowing that this needs to happen. They found microscopic cells near my vagina and in a lymph node. Obviously the cancer had spread to just beyond the tumor. But I also just want to have one full pregnancy. I would like to carry our own baby, and only have to worry about my hospital bills, not that on top of paying for everything for a gestational carrier. I know if that were to happen though, the cancer will most likely continue to spread, and who knows how far it will move in the 9 months.

I realize there is no point in having a baby if I’m not around. Dan will be an amazing father, but it’s not something he wants to do on his own, especially if we can prevent it from happening. And that’s the only reason I have any semblance of calmness and acceptance. I hate being told how strong I am. I really have no choice. I’m just living. I’m not trying to be Wonder Woman. I’m just trying to stay alive.

And so now, I sign off with my uterus intact one last time. I’m going to do some sit ups and push ups, since I’ll be stuck in a hospital the next 4 days, and who knows when I’ll be able to workout again. Also, the doctor told me chemo might make me gain weight, so… Guess I should work on combatting that now.

XOXO,

Gossett Girl