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a minor miscommunication
Mar. 23rd, 2011 06:07 pmWhen my doctor told me this would be an 'outpatient procedure', and handed me a pamphlet on the "Same Day Surgery" Center, I figured it would be an outpatient procedure that happened all on the same day.
Aren't I adorable?
It turns out that 'outpatient' means anything under 23 hours, and I am definitely going to spend at least one night in the hospital. Which is just as well, frankly. I called my doctor's office after the surgery center let the cat out of the bag, and they confirmed it. In fact, they may admit me before the end there and turn it into an inpatient procedure.
It's good that I found out this tiny detail. Now I know I need to bring at least three books. I really hate running out of reading material.
My boss said he wasn't surprised, as he didn't see how they could do it all and let me go the same day. My response was, "Don't they kick women out the day after the baby's born now? I figured it was more shit by the insurance industry to reduce payouts."
Off to do the laundry.
Aren't I adorable?
It turns out that 'outpatient' means anything under 23 hours, and I am definitely going to spend at least one night in the hospital. Which is just as well, frankly. I called my doctor's office after the surgery center let the cat out of the bag, and they confirmed it. In fact, they may admit me before the end there and turn it into an inpatient procedure.
It's good that I found out this tiny detail. Now I know I need to bring at least three books. I really hate running out of reading material.
My boss said he wasn't surprised, as he didn't see how they could do it all and let me go the same day. My response was, "Don't they kick women out the day after the baby's born now? I figured it was more shit by the insurance industry to reduce payouts."
Off to do the laundry.
Update on the sports equipment
Mar. 21st, 2011 04:44 amI went to see Dr. Yim Friday. He looked at the CAT scan and judged my baseball to be the size of a volleyball. This sports shit is getting out of hand, but at least it's not a medicine ball. I can't believe it's quite that big - maybe he meant to say softball? Whatever, either way it's gotta come out.
We discussed a whole lot of options:
if the slice they look at while I'm laying splayed open behind them is benign, then he only takes the uterus. The ovaries stay to produce hormones.
if there seems to be even a hint of malignancy, he takes uterus, ovaries, the omentum, a strip of fat that cancer likes to use as a metastacizing stepping stone (I refrained from asking him to remove any and all strips of fat he encountered, as he seemed a pretty serious guy), and three sets of lymph glands. Hormone replacement therapy to follow. He responded to my concerns, pointing out that it's replacing what I would've produced naturally, not increasing - and that it's come a long way since the 60s/70s.
if it's adhered to the bowel, they'll have to resect (though he didn't use the word) it like garden hose (yes, that's how he explained it). Sometimes that doesn't work and a temp colostomy is needed. If all that happens, then we'll have to discuss chemo/radio-therapy.
Now, he did say that this was all worst case scenarios, and that we had to go over them so I would be fully informed...and I interrupted and said, "And 'cause you can't wake me up in the middle to discuss it." Most of these are fibroids, and 99% of those are benign, but you have to talk it all over, so there are no unpleasant surprises.
When do I want to do it? He's not saying, "We have to do it soonest, OMGOMG!!!" But we also don't want to hang about, since we don't know how fast it's grown, as there's no baseline. He has had a cancellation for Thursday 3/24... I'm on it like a goose on a junebug. The last thing he said before I left was, "I'm fairly cofident it's benign." I think that's a very strong statement in these litigious times.
I wrote a mass email (get it? :snerk: ) to my peeps, and it turns out that there's a long and storied history of fibroids in my family. In fact, my sister and I are the only two over 25 who still possess a uterus. And soon she will be all alone. (She's looking forward to her inevitable upcoming event, you betcha.)
So this Thursday is the day. I have three days to get all the paperwork for the Short Term Disability done, get a bunch of stuff at work set up for my absence, get groceries for my infirmity (pudding, yogurt, etc.), and have the furnace guys come an replace my limiter switch, which decided that Friday night was the perfect time to go bad. :> Luckily, the weather is predicted to be very mild 'til Wednesday night. And since I'll be home all day Wednesday, chugging the Golightly, won't that be convenient? :grin:
Thanks for all the well-wishes. I'm planning to update on Saturday, if what they tell me about my recovery slope holds true. Gotta go take a shower now. I just remembered that they're turning off the water in about 2.5 hours, and it won't be on when I'm getting ready for work.
We discussed a whole lot of options:
if the slice they look at while I'm laying splayed open behind them is benign, then he only takes the uterus. The ovaries stay to produce hormones.
if there seems to be even a hint of malignancy, he takes uterus, ovaries, the omentum, a strip of fat that cancer likes to use as a metastacizing stepping stone (I refrained from asking him to remove any and all strips of fat he encountered, as he seemed a pretty serious guy), and three sets of lymph glands. Hormone replacement therapy to follow. He responded to my concerns, pointing out that it's replacing what I would've produced naturally, not increasing - and that it's come a long way since the 60s/70s.
if it's adhered to the bowel, they'll have to resect (though he didn't use the word) it like garden hose (yes, that's how he explained it). Sometimes that doesn't work and a temp colostomy is needed. If all that happens, then we'll have to discuss chemo/radio-therapy.
Now, he did say that this was all worst case scenarios, and that we had to go over them so I would be fully informed...and I interrupted and said, "And 'cause you can't wake me up in the middle to discuss it." Most of these are fibroids, and 99% of those are benign, but you have to talk it all over, so there are no unpleasant surprises.
When do I want to do it? He's not saying, "We have to do it soonest, OMGOMG!!!" But we also don't want to hang about, since we don't know how fast it's grown, as there's no baseline. He has had a cancellation for Thursday 3/24... I'm on it like a goose on a junebug. The last thing he said before I left was, "I'm fairly cofident it's benign." I think that's a very strong statement in these litigious times.
I wrote a mass email (get it? :snerk: ) to my peeps, and it turns out that there's a long and storied history of fibroids in my family. In fact, my sister and I are the only two over 25 who still possess a uterus. And soon she will be all alone. (She's looking forward to her inevitable upcoming event, you betcha.)
So this Thursday is the day. I have three days to get all the paperwork for the Short Term Disability done, get a bunch of stuff at work set up for my absence, get groceries for my infirmity (pudding, yogurt, etc.), and have the furnace guys come an replace my limiter switch, which decided that Friday night was the perfect time to go bad. :> Luckily, the weather is predicted to be very mild 'til Wednesday night. And since I'll be home all day Wednesday, chugging the Golightly, won't that be convenient? :grin:
Thanks for all the well-wishes. I'm planning to update on Saturday, if what they tell me about my recovery slope holds true. Gotta go take a shower now. I just remembered that they're turning off the water in about 2.5 hours, and it won't be on when I'm getting ready for work.
Okay, don't freak out
Mar. 16th, 2011 01:13 pmSo, I'm going to have a hysterectomy.
I wasn't using my uterus for its specified purpose (and underlined that with an endometrial ablation seven or so years ago), so it apparently decided to grow a baseball. Yes, I have a baseball sized mass. Benign? Malignant? Won't know 'til it comes out. It's so big that the doctor said, "How did you not feel that?" My actual response, "I thought I was just getting fatter," wasn't quite what I was feeling, which was, "I don't actually palpate myself that often." And I almost never lie on my stomach, which would have been a dead giveaway.
Here's the best bit. She says it's been growing for about a year, and that it should have been palpable to my gyno last August/September, the most recent visit as noted on my history sheet. Only not so much, because when I called their office today to find out when my appointment is scheduled for this year, as I have misplaced my reminder card (which sits on the popcorn canister on the kitchen counter), they informed me that I don't have one. More than that, I was a No-show for the one in September 2010. It seems that I lost the card longer ago than I thought. This is what having no sense of long-term time does for a person. Grrr!
Of course, that was the first time I've ever missed a doctor's appointment, of any type, in my life. And that is the only doctor's office that doesn't have either a human or robot call or email to remind you of your approaching appointment. And what's with not calling me to upbraid me for missing it? I'm not blaming them - it's all on my lack of time sense and shoddy card retention skills - but isn't it funny that the one appointment I miss is the one that's going to have the most serious consequences. This is how life has worked my whole life - with the tiniest things getting together to tackle. Any one thing doesn't happen = the whole unhappy occurence is avoided.
If you've got any benignity vibes hanging around, please send them along. And if they know any laprascopic vibes, please tell them to come, too.
I wasn't using my uterus for its specified purpose (and underlined that with an endometrial ablation seven or so years ago), so it apparently decided to grow a baseball. Yes, I have a baseball sized mass. Benign? Malignant? Won't know 'til it comes out. It's so big that the doctor said, "How did you not feel that?" My actual response, "I thought I was just getting fatter," wasn't quite what I was feeling, which was, "I don't actually palpate myself that often." And I almost never lie on my stomach, which would have been a dead giveaway.
Here's the best bit. She says it's been growing for about a year, and that it should have been palpable to my gyno last August/September, the most recent visit as noted on my history sheet. Only not so much, because when I called their office today to find out when my appointment is scheduled for this year, as I have misplaced my reminder card (which sits on the popcorn canister on the kitchen counter), they informed me that I don't have one. More than that, I was a No-show for the one in September 2010. It seems that I lost the card longer ago than I thought. This is what having no sense of long-term time does for a person. Grrr!
Of course, that was the first time I've ever missed a doctor's appointment, of any type, in my life. And that is the only doctor's office that doesn't have either a human or robot call or email to remind you of your approaching appointment. And what's with not calling me to upbraid me for missing it? I'm not blaming them - it's all on my lack of time sense and shoddy card retention skills - but isn't it funny that the one appointment I miss is the one that's going to have the most serious consequences. This is how life has worked my whole life - with the tiniest things getting together to tackle. Any one thing doesn't happen = the whole unhappy occurence is avoided.
If you've got any benignity vibes hanging around, please send them along. And if they know any laprascopic vibes, please tell them to come, too.
This is my angry icon...
Jun. 4th, 2010 04:30 am...because of the head in a basket that you can't see, just out of frame. Why the angry icon, you ask? And why aren't you beta reading Walter's most excellent Sports Night fic, you further inquire? Both good questions. The answer, like the truth, lies beneath. ( Some people should really not ever be allowed to drink Rock Star. )
