It’s time. Time for me to feel like taking a walk again, putting up a Christmas tree, shopping with my sisters, reading a book, going to a concert, like engaging with my life again. I just wish someone would inform my gut. It hurts. Stupid cancer.
Originally uploaded by shelleylyn
I’m finally home after surgery. We made a stop at my parents house for a couple of days while I got strong enough to manage my animals at home. I also picked up my mom’s cough and a bladder infection. Apparently hourly trips to the bathroom are not a common side effect of a hysterectomy. I’m on antibiotics now and grateful for modern science.
I’m glad to be back home. I missed my dogs. Unfortunately, we are now out of cats… Shadrack was squashed by a goat, Mishak was murdered by my deceptively sweet-seeming terrier, and Abednego froze without his brothers to keep him warm. We have officially and reluctantly declared our home and barn a kitty-free zone. It is just not safe to be a cat here.
But the mutts are all healthy and happy. Ginger is getting her spots and has learned not to jump ON us. Instead, she jumps NEAR us when we come home or when she gets to come inside. The big dogs are sweet and loving and Jolee is just as much of a princess as ever. Too much dog-talk, I know… but they bring me joy so you get to hear about it.
I’m anxiously awaiting the pathologist’s report after my surgery. The oncologist said it would be at least 10 days after the surgery to get the report back. Because my case is so unusual, they will probably send it back to the medical professor at Harvard who first diagnosed my condition. We’ve got a follow-up appointment set up for next Monday when we’ll find out if, or how much, the cancer has spread. I’m hoping that the surgery got it all out, and I’ll be done with this whole mess, but we’ll have to see. If they put me through radiation treatment, I’ll likely have to sit alone in a hospital room for a week at a time. (Apparently it’s a bad idea to have visitors when you are radioactive…)
So here is a sampling of the jokes my sibs have told about me being radioactive…
“Rob won’t need a nightlight if he has to get up at night, he can just throw back the covers and I’ll light his way to the bathroom.”
“If our microwave goes on the fritz, no worries, I can reheat leftovers on my own.”
And you can imagine how the jokes just devolved from there… my dad eventually pulled the “plug” and told us to knock it off.
It’s been almost a week since I had a hysterectomy. The oncologist says it will likely be another week before the pathology report is back and we know if the cancer has spread or not.
It’s a good thing that I’ve been hurting so much-it takes my mind off of the waiting and focuses my whole attention on my gut. Well, my gut and the wierd hand-shaped numb spot on my right inner thigh. The swelling in my belly is down so I can see that the skin in that spot is discolored a bit… kind of looks like an abrasion, but it doesn’t hurt like one. Wierd-and distracting, which, like I said, is good 
Here are some pearls of wisdom I’ve learned doing since I got home from the hospital…
- Being able to pee is an ability that I’ll never take for granted again.
- My husband loves me and while he is strong and loving through this, I can see that he is deeply concerned about me and my welfare.
- My mom is an angel. She’s making “quiet books” for my nieces and nephews for Christmas and I’ve had a great time helping her. Today I made four sets of tennis shoes that lace up, two felt Christmas trees that have button ornaments, and a Temple that is a puzzle. These will all go into the quiet books to help little ones keep busy and quiet during church services. It’s good for me to have a creative outlet right now.
- A heating pad can be like the Balm of Gilead when you hurt.
- My Jolee Dog is really just an external manifestation of my own soul.
- Sleep can be delicious.
I know pain. Not the physical kind… the kind of pain that can only be experienced by a person who has navigated through bureauocracies at four massive organizations to get one little surgery pre-authorized.
Here’s the story. My uterus is confused and instead of being a loving place for a future child to begin life, it’s trying to kill me. So, it’s got to go. I need a hysterectomy. These days there many ways to get a hysterectomy. The old, tried and true ways involves cutting through my abdominal wall. The recovery for this surgery is long and painful.
The new and improved way is called Robotic-assisted Laparoscopic Hysterectomy. They make little incisions, blow up my abdomen with CO2 and then robotic fingers directed by the surgeon do their magic. Recovery is much, much easier and shorter.
As you can imagine, I want option B. You’d think it would be a no-brainer. Less time in the hospital, less time away from my job, less pain and suffering. But nope. Brick walls everywhere. Here is a list of all of the people I had to work with to even figure out if the robotic surgery COULD be covered…
- the Oncologist’s office assistants
- an outsourced HR group who manages my company’s benefits
- the billing department from hospital where the surgery will be held
- the admiting department from the hospital where the surgery will be held
- a nurse support person from my insurance company
- a healthcare advocate
- the healthcare advocate’s boss
- the healthcare advocate’s boss’s boss
- a representative from the robotic surgery makers
- a benefits manager from my company
To make a long story short(er)… After hours of calls, emails, and in-person visits… I got several policies changed at two different bureaucratic organizations so that I can get the robotic surgery. I’ve always said… if you want something from someone, just stand there in their line of vision, smiling, and don’t go away until they give you what you want.
Hello my friends and family- As you may have heard (or already sensed my guts have turned out to actually be rotten. The surgery I had a couple of weeks ago found a cancerous mass in my uterus. In addition, my uterine wall also has pre-cancerous cells. It’s rare to have both of these conditions happening in one uterus, but I suppose it means I’m special (something my mom always told me anyway).
The treatment for this is a hysterectomy. The good news: uterine cancer has something like a 98% cure rate and once the uterus is gone, my health problems should go with it. I have surgery scheduled for December 8th. And please, though my sisters have already started arguing over who wants to be the alternate gestation host for our frozen embryos, no offers for surrogates will be accepted as I am afraid of V babies. The ovaries are going out with the bathwater.
So, I’ve decided to have a “Say Goodbye to My Uterus” party. Any of you who have ever been frustrated with a uterus are invited. Gentlemen, you are welcome, but I can, in no way, promise that the general topic of conversation won’t run you out of the house after 5 minutes. Attend at your own risk
Party details:
When: December 5, 2009 at 7:00 pm
Where: Shelley’s house in Cache Valley
Please bring: Your worst or most painful uterus story written on something flammable
Angela promised to bring red jello with strawberries, so come hungry!
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego
Originally uploaded by shelleylyn
We inherited these three kittens from our neighbors who are moving. They were nothing but skin and bones and when we brought out the tuna, Shadrach did a belly flop on the plate and spread his paws out so the others couldn’t take it all from him
They have moved into the barn and are now happily chasing our bajillion mice. Maybe they’ll even get to the homing pigeons that keep breeding in our rafters out there. The guy that built the house raised homing pigeons and they keep coming back.
Filed under: web2.0
Ginger Bear
Originally uploaded by shelleylyn
This is Ginger.. our English Pointer puppy. She is sleeping here, but is usually romping around, challenging the dominance structure of our other mutts. We got her a snuggie cape since her coat is thin and Jolee (our terrier) beat the bejebees out of her for wearing it… Jolee likes to be the only one who wears a princess cape.
Phil Wolff of Skype Journal recently asked the Emerging Communications founder Lee S Dryburgh, what he thought would come after Skype.
Dryburgh believes that consumer intent will become king of telephony, aka google bots reading your email to target ads related to your intent. Semantic phones, here we come. Dryburgh sees Skype as phase one… in Phase 2, our antiquated painful phone system will lose out to new technologies that can more readily interpret the intent behind calls.
Attention metadata, I suppose. Who are you calling? Do you call for pizza every day at 4:00 pm? You may want pizza coupons. Do you call an assisted living facility where you mother lives on Fridays? You may be interested in a new treatment for alzheimers. A bit scary if you ask the privacy advocates… but certainly convenient for those of us who sell our private souls for ease and great deals at the grocery store.
Life magazine pulled together shots of weird animals and of course I feel compelled to share them with you. I’ve been a fan of Mike the Headless Chicken for a while, but was glad to meet a few more wonky characters.
Mike the Headless Chicken. It's harder to get a headless chicken to live than you might think. I know. I've tried.
I really want an Aye-Aye. It would fit right in with my menagarie, n’est pas?
The Aye-Aye is from Madagascar. This one reminds me of an ex-boyfriend...as I see him now.
