Dr. Appointments

I’ve had doctor appointments so much lately, I feel like I whip out my insurance card faster than my debit card. I saw a doctor yesterday who was willing to do the surgery next week (when we were planning on being back home) but my mom’s best girl friend is a surgical nurse, and did not recommend that doctor. However, she did get some strings pulled to see a great doctor, who I saw today. He’s willing to fit a surgery in, but is unwilling to the surgery without getting one test result back…which may be until next week. This test gives them a number basically telling the likely hood of this tumor having anything cancer related. So far, my chances of this ovarian tumor being cancerous is about 1.5%. If my numbers from that bloodwork are high, he’ll want a gyn-oncologist present at the surgery, to make sure nothing is missed. Not a very high chance, but high enough for them to be extra cautious.

So we’re on standby, trying to figure out what to do. We may just have the surgery back home after all. Waiting that long puts me in no danger, but I am getting quite uncomfortable. The good doctor I saw this morning said he would set his staff to try to push that lab work as fast as possible, and if it comes back in time, regardless of the results, we’ll have the surgery down here. If the results don’t come back in time for us to leave, we might just leave.

At least we’re at the point where we can make more “fun” plans down here. I’m going to my Grandma’s tonight for supper, and tomorrow I hope I’ll get to visit with a friend at the park. Plus, I’ve been going to doctor appointments early in the morning, which has allowed me the beautiful sight of seeing the hot air balloons that freckle the Arizona sunrise this time of the year. I keep forgetting how beautiful a sight it can be. Sometimes 10 or more of these upsidedown teardrop shapes of all colors and at various heights are up in the cool of the morning. But, I digress.

Last night Knut and I got to go out for a movie. (We saw “Avatar” in 3D) It was fun to watch the movie, but I just haven’t been myself. I find myself developing a bad attitude towards having to have surgery. To put it plainly, I don’t wanna. I don’t want to go under, I don’t want the recovery time. I don’t like any of this. The alternative to surgery is dying, and that sounds less pleasant, so surgery it is. I know I should be grateful for modern medicine, and how quick and easy this surgery is going to be. As much as I’m pushing for an as soon as possible surgery, I really don’t want it.

What I am looking forward to, is feeling like I can do stuff again, feeling no more pain, and being able to run around and wrestle my kids again.

OK, shall I be really honest? I know in the past I talked about the elephant in the room I was dealing with. It was so close to home, and so raw, I didn’t feel right about blogging about it. But it’s been awhile, it’s no longer raw, so I will. Just before Thanksgiving, I had a miscarriage. I was not very far along, but we knew about the pregnancy, and were thrilled.

I had never miscarried before, and I felt so lost as to what to do. If I were to describe my emotions, it would be “disoriented”. It was not the plan to lose the baby. Obviously. I wasn’t sure how to grieve, who to tell, who not to tell. I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

I went to the doctor to confirm the miscarriage. As they confirmed by ultrasound that yes, I was losing the baby, they also found a strange looking cyst on one of my ovaries. They wanted me to come back in a month, and see if it resolved itself or not. Obviously, it grew by leaps and bounds and is now causing problems and being called “tumor”.

Honestly, after a couple weeks, I felt as though I had processed the miscarriage. Yes, I will always have that empty space, but I just couldn’t live in a sad state anymore. I was done with sad. Not done with missing the baby, but done with sad. Dealing with this cyst/tumor/stupid thing makes my stomach feel like the size it should be if I were still pregnant. It makes me go in and feel out paperwork at doctor’s offices, and saying out loud the word “miscarriage” over and over and over again.

It didn’t help that the first “bad” doctor that I saw down here said I shouldn’t even be thinking about having any more kids because we are not a wealthy family. Anymore kids, he said, and we won’t be able to afford college or Disneyland.

So yeah, I’ve been having an attitude problem. Fortunately, my family is overwhelmingly understanding, and have allowed me rest and offer endless encouragement. Really, though, I’m so done being sad. I want to leave sad behind. I just don’t want this dragged out anymore, you know?

At the same rate that I seem to be checking my attitude, this problem is getting more physically painful, which presents a challenge. I could use your continued support and prayers that this cyst/tumor/stupid thing can be removed quickly. I know I’m throwing myself a little pity party here, but writing for me is a part of my process of dealing with things. I’m not sure whether or not it’s appropriate to share before the world like this, but I’m past caring about that. For those who read my blog, and believe in the power of prayer, I’d ask that you pray that God intervenes, and I’ll be able to have the surgery this week before going home. If that’s not God’s will, I’d pray God would give me the grace to endure it a little while longer.