Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Uterectomy

I dislike the term "hysterectomy" because it reminds me of the little that I know of Victorian Era medicine and psychology, in which women were believed to easily become hysterical, a psychological disorder at the time.  I bet we have Freud to thank for that, huh?
Anyway, I'm gonna call it a uterectomy, because it's a surgery to take out the uterus.  Like an appendectomy.
And I'm writing about it because I'm gonna have one.  Soon.  Here's the long story.

Last fall, I started getting my period again after not having it for a couple years.  I hadn't had it because of my Mirena IUD; I love that thing.  Since I thought that my IUD's 5-year expiration period was up, I made an appointment with the doctor who originally insert it so that she could replace it.  Even though her office is 3 hours from where I live now.
When I got there, the doctor said that my IUD still had a year until the expiration date; somehow I did the math wrong.  Don't judge.  She was concerned, though, about the periods returning.  She did an exam and couldn't find the IUD string.  I wasn't too concerned because I had never been able to feel it, but, still, I wanted to make sure that it was still there!  So she ordered an ultrasound.
I did that where I live, then went to a local OB/GYN to interpret it for me.  She said (and was later confirmed by my non-local OB/GYN) that the IUD was definitely still there, but that I had fibroids.  Apparently, fibroids are balls of muscle that grow from your uterus.  In my mind, that basically means that my uterus is like the Incredible Hulk.  Someone made it mad and, pow! Fibroids.
My uterus us a superhero.  Superheroine?
Both doctors said that it might be difficult to retrieve the IUD with the fibroids, and, if it could be easily removed, that it might be difficult to replace.  Because I'm a planner, I decided to try to do the retrieve-and-replace in the summer, so that if anything complicated happened, I could recover before school starts again.  My appointment, at the 3-hour-away doctor was at the end of last month.  Through a comedy of errors on their part, they did not have an IUD when I arrived for my appointment.  However, after looking at my chart, the doctor wanted another ultrasound to see how the fibroids (superhero uterus muscles) were doing.  Because I'm teaching online this summer and my boyfriend lives fairly close to that doctor, I stayed another day, had the ultrasound, and met with the doctor to discuss it.  She basically said that the fibroids (buff uterus) were bigger, and that she suggested that I take out the uterus.  We both thought keeping my ovaries was a good idea.  No one wants me in menopause right now!!
I decided to bring my ultrasound results to my local OB/GYN to start the surgery process locally.  Because of school, I wanted this done as soon as possible.  I talked with my neighbor, who had a full hysterectomy (taking the ovaries, too), and she said that the major recovery could take up to three weeks, so that was my basis for how long I had to do this before the first day of fall semester.
At the local doctor, I was immediately off-put because their was a Christian bible in the waiting room.  This makes me very nervous when discussing reproductive care.  One past gynecologist of mine said that she'd take care of my IUD, but wouldn't replace it because of her religious beliefs.  Ug.  I never went back to her!  My fears were not unfounded in this case; during my consultation, the doctor kept trying to push me to wait on the surgery in case I decided to have kids.  Um, no thanks.  I'm not sure why my saying that I don't want any kids, and that I had an IUD for my prime breeding years, didn't make her see that I'm really not interested.  She actually said, "The issue is that you haven't had any kids."  I think that I laughed out loud at that, and said something like, "That's not an issue!  That's a blessing!"
In the end, though, she agreed with the 3-hour-away doctor that my uterus would have to come out someday.  She wasn't excited about this summer, but I wasn't excited about waiting.  My IUD expires at the end of the year, so something must be done.
After that experience, I decide that I want the surgery with the 3-hour-away doctor.  Despite the hassles of travel, I liked her and trusted her more.

But then I got to thinking.  I knew that I'd want my mother around after the surgery to help take care of me, so I wondered if I could get the surgery in Washington and stay with her.  I called my insurance, and they said that it was fine, as long as I chose an in-network doctor.  Groovy.
I talked with my mom, and the clinic that she used to work at was on my covered list!  So, when I was up for my youngest nephew's 11th birthday, I made a consultation appointment.  The doctor there was young, and a man, but he wasn't trying to force me to have kids.  He also seemed very knowledgeable, and seemed to understand my issue with the timing.  In fact, he encouraged me to take it out this summer because it might be a more difficult surgery the longer that I wait.

That's where we're at as of today!  We're waiting for confirmation by my insurance to finalize booking the operating room and the doctor's time for next week.  Crazy, huh?
I haven't really felt a need for a uterus for years now, so I'm pretty happy that the medical establishment, or at least three different doctors, agree.  And are willing to take it out!

I am a bit scared of the surgery.  I've never had surgery!  I've never spent the night in the hospital!  Well, as a kid, I slept a night in the waiting room while my sister was fighting her asthma to breathe, but that's not the same.

And as all of this has been unfolding, the Hobby Lobby judgement was released.  Although my uterectomy is due to fibroids (enhanced soldier uterus), I wonder if companies that deny IUDs and other contraceptives that prevent fertilization (but generally don't abort fertilized eggs), and won't let women choose voluntarily sterilizations (but do pay for men to sterilize themselves), would deny my surgery.  As yet, I'm not in danger.  The muscle balls aren't currently life-threatening.  They aren't really bothering me at all, other than interfering with my love affair with my IUD.  It makes me sad that other women in a similar situation won't get the excellent insurance coverage that I have due to religious, patriarchal, and misogynistic beliefs of the owners of the company that they work for.  It's like these 1% families believe that they own their workers, not just their company.

In sum, I have awesome insurance, a good doctor near my mother, and a super uterus.