A Year Ago Today.

A year ago today I was coming off of a three-day, bowel-cleansing bender. I was waking up early and making an exciting-slash-nervous drive into Santa Barbara. I was sitting in a waiting room with Eric, my mom, and sister. I was getting needles jabbed into my arms, pulling up dopey-looking grippy socks, and cracking jokes with people wearing scrubs. I was getting wheeled down long hallways and looking around at Dr. Frankenstein-looking medical equipment. I was trying to look alive as my mom and sister snapped drugged-out photos of me, laying on a stretcher, wearing a crown that read "Chili Peppers."

Today is ONE WHOLE YEAR since I had my big surgery.

You know, the one where I had my butt-guts pulled through my stomach and PART OF MY BOWEL WAS REMOVED.

It's hard for me to believe it's already been so long because I can still clearly remember my excitement at the thought of being "healthy." In fact, as crazy as it sounds, I STILL get excited when I think about my surgery! Not only was it the best decision I've ever made, it was such a positive experience for me. I loved- LOVED- my hospital stay. I still remember several of my nurses names and faces. Which makes me think, it's strange how brains holds tighter to some memories over others- for some reason, my brain tells me that I'm, like, best friends with these nurses. They were just so thoughtful and friendly, and I think because of the nature of the situation, their helpfulness was magnified that much more. (I guess getting catheterized multiple times or having post surgery tar-poops wiped from your butt by a team of complete strangers will do that to you.)

If you had asked me a year ago what my health would be like today, I think I would've probably had a different answer from how things actually turned out. I think both Eric and I were counting on my surgery to be the miracle drug for all of my ailments and that we would start churning out the kids in no time. Unfortunately, things don't always go according to plan. And while I could go on and on about how unfair life is, or how painful and torturous (and sometimes rude) people can be when endlessly bragging (or better yet, complaining) about their kids/ pregnancies, or what it's like to have to endure another Mother's Day as a non-mom, I'll save that rant for another day. I mean, everyone has something to complain about, right...?

I sent Thank You cards to all of my doctors, as well as the hospital staff yesterday. My doctors have selflessly gone beyond their obligatory scope of work and I'm SO grateful for all they've done for me. And while I'm sure they don't exactly sit around, feeling unappreciated, I sent the cards anyway because it's nice to be reminded.

Since my surgery- and recovery- I feel like I've gained my life back. I'll still never be 100% because an asshole named endometriosis ruined that forever, but I feel much healthier than I have in the past several years. Longer than I can remember.

Things are looking up, my friends.

Another perk, I never gained any of my pre-surgery weight back. Win-win. #HumbleBrag

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A Trip to the Lady-Doctor.

(Originally written December 04, 2012)

This is going to be one of those posts that makes men- and probably women too- cringe and vacate the premises.

Today I had to go for another medical procedure. Although this one was much less risky/ invasive/ potentially damaging, I was much more stressed/ panicked/ scared shitless. I guess my fear came from the fact that I was going to be wide awake for this procedure. With my surgery, I was knocked the fuck out, so I didn't care what happened. But this time... Knowing there was going to be business going on in my own personal Netherlands while I was totally wide awake to suffer through it all...?? Just thinking about it made me want to take a long walk off of a short pier.

The procedure I went in for is called a hysterosalpingogram, or HSG for short (because nobody can ever remember how to pronounce that long-ass name). It's typically performed on women who have period issues. And since I have, like, every issue known to womankind, I was a prime candidate.

Basically, the procedure goes like this: The patient lies on a table in the exam room, legs in the old heave-ho position. (Ladies, you know what I'm talking about.) There's a big X-ray machine overhead that takes photos of the belly area when needed. The radiologist inserts a speculum in your hooha, followed by a catheter that goes into the uterus. A dye is injected, making its way through the uterus, fallopian tubes, and spills out into the body cavity. They take X-rays and send them to your physician for review. The end.

I had read a lot of chat boards about HSGs. While there were women who said it was no biggie, there were a lot more who narrated tales of horror. No joke, I read more than one account that said the pain was worse than being in labor. And I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm not down with labor. Other stories included horrible cramping, the dye burning, getting light-headed with the dye injection, nearly passing out afterward. Not to mention: the use of a CERVICAL CLAMP. (Guh. The name alone makes me queesy.) A whole treasure trove of delightful descriptions. All of this, combined with the fact that I have a known condition (endometriosis) that already makes things difficult? Which is why I would randomly burst into weepy tears over the past few days at the thought of VOLUNTARILY subjecting myself to this.

How did your visit go, TILTE? Cut to the chase already.

I couldn't have asked for a better experience.

As soon as my radiologist entered the room, I blurted out that I was scared as shit and I'm sure the insanity shooting from my eyeballs reaffirmed it. He was friendly and comforting and we sat chatting for a bit. -A trick I've seen the veterinarian pull a million times with Biscuit. (You doctor-types know your stuff.) He did the whole procedure very slowly and explained exactly what was happening each step of the way. No pain with the speculum. No pain with the catheter. And I didn't even feel the dye. Sure, it felt awkward and uncomfortable, but what do you expect when your private parts are cranked open and there's a tube hanging out of you? But it wasn't painful. And I was so grateful.

With help from the radiologist- who kept the the tech gear in place- and his assistant- who literally pulled the paper lining that I was laying on to slide me up the table and into X-ray position- it was time for photos. There was some minor tilting of the hips in order to get the right view of my internal organs. And the next thing I knew: It was over. I never got light-headed. I never felt sick. I totally worked myself up over nothing. And! I got to watch the whole thing on a TV screen. My insides lit up like normal!

Maybe I should mention I totally loaded up on meds before my appointment. Norco, Ibuprofen, and Xanax. They are my friends.

If you're planning on having this procedure done, DON'T STRESS ABOUT IT. I did and it totally turned it into an insurmountable obstacle that was messing with my brain. Also, take a sanitary napkin with you to your appointment. Otherwise, you'll walk out of there looking like you just peed your pants.

(Have questions about this procedure? Email me at TILTE at live dot com.)

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My Post-Thanksgiving Bod.

I gained four pounds between Thanksgiving and Sunday.

For all you non-mathletes out there, I reckon that's one pound per day.

Showcasing all my hard eating work is the laparoscopy aftermath strewn about my midriff. The combination of five tightly cinched scars on the overextended potbellyness of my new physique is something akin to high-quality, Baroque furniture.

For a nominal fee, I'm available to sit in your tea rooms/salons/ parlours and look fancy.

Basically me.

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Surprisingly, It Doesn't Take Long For Muscles to Forget Everything They Know About Working.

After my surgery, I took it easy on my "core". You know, I cut back on all those P90X workouts and spinning classes and whatever other cliche workout routines exist these days. With five cuts through my abdomen and a newly crotchet'd colon, I did NOT want to risk bursting any seams.

At my post-op appointment on August 10th, my doctor told me to keep taking things easy for at least another week. No workouts. No stretches. No lifting more than 10 pounds at a time. Plenty of resting.

So here I am, eleven days later and I figure it's safe to start putting my ripped core to good use. Nothing fancy. Just using my straight up 6-pack to launch myself out of bed/ off the couch, instead of rolling off the edge like an inchworm.

This is where the sadness happens.


What little stomach muscles I had before the surgery are fucking loooong gone.

Not only do I not have ANY working muscles in my abdomen, but everything is still sore. Which pretty much means I'm just going to remain in this comatose-type existence until I have to use my Medic-Alert or Jitterbug to call for help.


And adding insult to injury, my colon is a whole other set of lazy problems.

For the first three weeks after my surgery, I was on a low-fiber diet. For those of you who don't know, fiber is what makes you poop. If you're not eating it, you're not pooping. Which is exactly what my doctors wanted: plenty of "alone time" for the resection to heal. Only now, we're on week four since my surgery and my colon has not only been sliced and diced, but it's completely zoned the fuck out on what it's supposed to do. So I get the feeling like "Oh my God, Yes! I need to go poop!!" and I run to the toilet and nothing happens. Do you know how hard it is not being able to get your butt to work??

Because I had a resection, and the muscles and nerves were actually CUT through, it takes a while for things to start working like normal again. They need to be retrained. They need to learn how to "work things out." Unfortunately, I'm no ass trainer and it's getting pretty frustrating sitting on a toilet, feeling like I'm doing the work with no results. My stomach is holding up its end of the deal, and my butt is like "I like turtles."

I've given up on trying to look human.

Because of this backside laziness, I've had to bring out the big guns:
-Prunes
-Cherry tomatoes
-Apples
-Benefiber

I'm still chugging the Senokot/ Miralax like it's a $1 cocktail at Happy Hour. Which makes for a pretty eventful afternoon when I'm at the bank and all of a sudden I feel everything in my stomach drop straight to my butthole and then I have to Mario Andretti myself home before I poop all over my fucking car.


What's the lesson in all this? Muscles are dumb and forgetful. And also, you shouldn't leave the house when you're power-loaded on laxatives.

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Eating and Pooping: My Life After Surgery

I'm sure you've all been wondering how my bowels are doing since the surgery.

Lucky for you, I'm here with all the details. Well, except for the details from my rectal exam. That's a horror I don't care to relive.

I had my post-op appointments and things are looking good. Both of my surgeons said my incisions are healing well and my belly feels fine. The internal stuff seems to be on track as well. Yay!

My clothing has progressed from nightshirts to loose fitting pajama pants and loose fitting stretch pants. Or basically anything that's loose fitting. Unfortunate for me, my normal wardrobe usually consists of jeans that cook up my muffin top. The thought of wearing jeans right now makes my stitches cry. So if you see me around town and I'm wearing drawstring hobo pants, that's why. I'm also still wearing hospital underwear. Which is practically one step away from Mormon underwear.

Mormon underwear.

More great news- my diet was promoted!! For the first several weeks, I was on a low-fiber diet. It was basically no raw fruits/ vegetables, only cooked fruit/vegetables that are fork tender, nothing with skin or seeds, no whole grain products, no nuts, no beans, and no tough or thick cuts of meat. Essentially, I was on a "white-flour only" diet. I knew that ahead of time and going into this, I was like HALLELUJA ALL OF MY FAVORITE FOODS!!! But it's surprising how many foods have sneaky little "non-approved" items in them that you don't even think about on a normal basis.

Now I've been given the green light for going back to my normal diet. I'm excited to be able to eat pretty much whatever I want again. However, this "normal" diet seems to be causing some EXCRUCIATING indegestion pains. We're talking the churning gurgle that groans from the depths of the bowels and feels like someone is blowing up a balloon inside of you, but no matter how hard you try and wish and pray, no farts are exiting the premises. Because of these pains, which are totally normal, along with my newly built butthole, I have to take the following medications on a regular basis:

- 4 Ibuprofen every 6 hours, round the clock
- 2 to 4 Senekot-S per day
- Gas-X at least once a day, or as needed
- Miralax if it's been more than three days since a poop
- Norco for pain as needed


Let's talk more about poop!

So, before I had the surgery, I spent lots of time reading chat boards about bowel resection. I wanted to know what was common, what to expect, etc. Based on what one of my surgeons told me, it was a safe bet that I could count on lots of sharting in my near future. This is apparently because the colon has been cut through and, obviously, the nerves are basically shot for a good amount of time. What I found online only added to the weird factor: "several small stools throughout the day." To be exact, "10-20 small stools throughout the day."

When I read that, I was like "What the fuck...?" The likelihood for that happening to me was low since I barely pooped like 2-3 times a week. Well, with that said, we obviously know where this is going.

The "10-20 small stools throughout the day" thing is no joke. It happened to me. Every hour, on the hour, your butt is like "Hey! I'm really happy for you. I'ma let you finish. But first we're gonna make a lotta little baby poops."

In the two weeks since I came home, my days pretty much look like this:

Day 1-3: no poop
Day 4: 10-20 small turdlets
Day 5-6: no poop
Day 7: load up on laxatives because my guts are full of solid gold shit
Rinse and repeat


What else is about it?

I've had some pretty great visitors over the past week. I haven't driven since before the surgery since I'm still taking Norco, so without these visitors, and Boyfriend at work all day, I'm pretty much losing all social interaction skills. I'm sure by the time I go back to work, I'll be acting like Jodie Foster in Nell.

Some of my favorite gifts:

A "Get Well Soon" soup spoon (thanks, Melissa!)

Kitchen items for when I'm back to cooking (thanks, Christina!)

My favorite cupcake, from Susie Cakes (thanks, Dr. Busch!)

And of course, the chili pepper crown (thanks, Mom and Tanya!)

Since I got my first of two clearances to eat whatever I want, Boyfriend and I celebrated by going to a local favorite spot. I took it easy with an avocado taco and iced tea. After being on a limited diet, that taco was like dining with Julia Child.

I never thought I'd say this, but... It's good to be eating healthy food again!!!

At my second post-op appointment (I had two surgeons), my doctor gave me the following advice: Don't focus on your anus. Only, she's French, so it sounded a lot more like "Zon't focuz on yo anuz." Which I thought was super funny. She went on to explain that when you've been experiencing pain for so long, it's easy to focus on any feeling you have in that same area. That's what you shouldn't do. Discomfort is expected, as it will take six months to fully heal. But don't think about that, just focus on enjoying life. Which I thought was great advice.

And with that, I leave you with: Zon't focuz on yo anuz.


(To anyone with endometriosis, or anyone who may be thinking about undergoing surgery: If you have questions that you're not comfortable posting in the comments section, please feel free to email me! My email address is TILTE at live dot com.)

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The One Where I Tell You All About My Surgery.

Guess who's back from the dead.

IT'S ME!

First of all, I'd like to say a huge "THANK YOU" to all of the well-wishes I received here on the blog, as well as on Facebook and Twitter. And an especially appreciative "I LOVE IT" to all of the people who sent flowers and gifts. Your thoughts are definitely appreciated and have motivated me to get back to oversharing as soon as possible.

And to those of you who didn't send me shit, I've taken note.

Secondly, I'm going to have no less than a ton to say about my surgery and recovery process. So this would be the perfect time to use the bathroom and grab five drinks. Because we're going to be here all day. And since I'm still cross-eyed from taking Norco every four hours, most of this post may turn out to be a bunch of jibber-jabber that makes no sense. And this post has also taken me a week to compose, which means I can guarantee it will be all over the place.




MONDAY

Got up and showered as usual. Made sure to do my hair since I wanted to look beautiful and fresh and glamorous and be mistaken for Audrina Patridge while in hospital. Did one last pre-op weigh in to see where all of this illness/ stress/ bowel cleanse had left me. Since I'm a lady, I won't tell you what I weighed. But I will tell you it was less than when I got married back in 2007.

Okay, twist my arm, it was 115.

Made it to the hospital right on time. I was lucky enough to have my surgery take place in this newly opened hospital in Santa Barbara. All of the rooms are private (no sharing the TV!) and patients can choose their own meals from the delicious looking menu via room service. Obviously, that was the part I was most looking forward to.

Hung out with Boyfriend, Mom, and sister Tanya in the pre-op waiting room. Started to get nervous, but luckily a nurse called me in after only about 10 minutes. I was escorted to my pre-op room. There, I changed into a hospital gown and some sickly and embarrassing looking grippy socks. The nurses drew blood, applied the EKG sticky pads to my chest, and inserted the I.V. Then Boyfriend, Mom, and Tanya were able to come visit me until surgery time. We hung out, cracked some jokes, and watched TV. Once I was taken into this pre-op area, I was no longer nervous. I was actually kind of excited. I was about to go in for surgery!

We all said our goodbyes and my surgical nurse wheeled me into the O.R. I wish I would have been able to take video rolling through the hallways and into the O.R. because it was a really strange perspective and it almost felt surreal. But I guess if you've ever seen E.R., or any medical show really, you probably already have a good idea of how that whole thing goes.

INTERESTING: The surgical table has about 2 inches of this weird, squishy mat on top (see photo below). This keeps the body from skidding all across the room while docs are tugging in different directions.

My particular table also had a hole cut out from the butt section of the mat. I'm assuming this was in case they had to perform a full Assectomy on me.

My surgical nurses were cool and we cracked some more jokes. They placed a breathing mask over my face and that's the last thing I remember.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a recovery room. I don't remember too much of that other than my family was there and I saw them for about a second before I fell back asleep. The rest of the day and night, I slept.

Total surgery time: 4 hours.

Apparently, someone in my family had me pose, as I was being rolled into my hospital room, wearing a tiara with chili peppers and "HOT STUFF" on it. I had no memory of this until Boyfriend reminded me. I don't know if this is my family's idea of "funny", but I'm pretty sure I like it.

My "Get Well" flowers. They were all SO beautiful and the nurses kept commenting on how good my room smelled. Thankfully, they were saying that instead of "What the fuck is that smell...?", which is actually what I kept asking myself by day three every time I caught a whiff of my armpit.

TUESDAY

Slept great until the doctors made their rounds in the middle of the night (see: 6:30am). Slept as much as I could in between the endless gang of hospital staff that weaved their way in and out of my room. This included my two surgeons and each of their teams of 3-4 other doctors, dietitians, newspaper delivery, room service, nurses to check vital signs every hour, house keeping, etc.

First day of eating. Clear liquids only.

Pain medication every four hours- shot of Morphine straight into the ol' IV.

That day, they removed my catheter. Surprisingly it wasn't as torturous as I imagined it was going to be. Instead, I just felt a slight tickle and it was done. Although, now that I think about it, maybe it really was as torturous as I was imagining, but since I was loaded on morphine, I didn't really notice. The nurses also had me get up and walk to the bathroom. That ended pretty well when I blacked the fuck out and the nurse had to save me from face-planting. I took it easy after that and slept the rest of the day. I also had some post-colonic diarrhea that looked like something from the La Brea Tar Pits. A nurse had to wipe me down with a wet wash cloth. By this point, my dignity had high-tailed it out of there and was trying to hitch a ride down the 101.

My view.

WEDNESDAY

Doctor rounds at 6:30am. They would look at my incisions, sometimes press around lightly, ask if I've been getting out of bed, take some notes and leave. They were always very nice, it was mostly just the waking up part that made me want to spit venom.

Lunch was promoted to soft foods!! I had about 5 plain penne pasta noodles, half of a white roll, and some apple juice. Since I'd been on clear liquids for the previous five days, I didn't have much of an appetite and it didn't take much to fill up.

As you can tell, the morphine was great.

In actuality, this is much closer to what I looked like. When I tried to look human, that is.

A bladder scan showed that I was "retaining", meaning I felt empty but was actually still full. Had to get catheter #2. Blood in urine. Doctors requested more blood work. Diet was demoted back to clear liquids.

Flipped the fuck out because people kept coming into my room and I was tired as shit due to waking up the previous night every hour, on the hour, to use the bathroom. The nurses put a Do Not Disturb sign on my door and finally I got some peace and quiet and naps.



THURSDAY

As my surgeons stopped by throughout the morning, they shared their surgical findings with me.

SO WHAT DID THEY FIND??!?

Well, they removed all of the endometriosis they were able to locate, along with a 5cm cyst (larger than the actual ovary itself) from my left ovary. They also removed a golf ball sized mass from my colon, as well as 6 inches of bowel. Something my doctor said was definitely causing pain.

. . . . .

Crazy, right?

Pathology report showed no cancerous cells on any of the biopsies.  THANK GOD.

Hearts and glory and angels singing!!!

Diet promoted to all liquids, not just clear. Dinner was some orange slop that was supposedly "blended chicken noodle soup". Surprisingly, it wasn't too bad. I guess that's what happens when you've been on clear liquids for the past six days. You're desperate enough to eat anything.

Medication was switched to Norco pills. Not as good as the morphine, but still pretty great at taking the edge off of the excruciating incisions and cystectomy. Surprisingly, there was almost no pain coming from the bowel resection. Everything was from the incision and cystectomy- burning, stabbing, tightness, and more burning. I also had the shoulder pain that many people experience after laparoscopic surgery. My sensations may have been dulled due to the heavy meds I was on, but it basically felt like gas pains stabbing in my chest when I took a deep breath. This pain was gone by day four.

Right arm. Blood work every day.

Left arm. (At the time, the needle didn't bother me. Looking at this picture, it's making me cringe.)

WORD OF ADVICE: If you're unfortunate like me and have hairy arms, I STRONGLY suggest you wax/ shave/ buff those things before you're admitted to any hospital. That medical tape is no joke.

Late Thursday night, they did a bladder scan. Same "retaining" problem. This time, they decided to try a "straight catheter", which is when they just put it in to drain and take it back out again a few minutes later. Catheter #3 administered. Bladder was full. Another small blood clot.


FRIDAY

Doctor rounds at 6:30am. Over the past week, this doc quickly became my good buddy. He was always in good spirits and joking around. More doctors should be like him.

Nurse checked bladder again hoping the straight cath did the trick. It didn't. Catheter #4 administered. Still no hospital discharge.

Finally took my first shower since being admitted. Aside from the awkwardness of having a catheter hanging out of my privée and my overall lifelessness, it was the best shower of my fucking life. I didn't know how badly I needed it until I was hunched over, sitting on a portable toilet seat, grinding Johnson & Johnson into my face. I attempted to shave my legs, but my sore and bulging stomach kept getting in the way and I'm pretty sure I walked out of that shower stall with two cacti shooting out of the bottom of my hospital gown. Regardless, showers are really a magical thing when it comes to being ill.

Unfortunately, I didn't pack my hair dryer because the pre-op paperwork clearly stated no plug-in devices. So instead of looking like Audrina sauntering up and down the hospital hallway, I looked like Hurley from LOST.

That night, Boyfriend stayed over and we had a slumber party. And by slumber party, I mean we watched the Olympic opening ceremony and then I passed the fuck out.


SATURDAY

This is my discharge day. Catheter #4 removed at 6:30am. I had until 2pm to show less then 100cc's in my bladder. If I was unable to get it below 100, I would be going home with a catheter.

Starting around 1pm, it was a race to the finish. Apparently, it's pretty common for patients with catheters to lose control of their bladder muscles/ feelings since they've been rendered useless for several days. It turns out there's a trick for getting these muscles back in working order (aside from Kegels). It's called "the double void" and it's when you use the bathroom, walk around, amd immediately use the bathroom again. So Boyfriend and I would do this. We would walk a lap on my hospital floor and I would use the bathroom. We kept doing this until 2pm. The nurse scanned me. Still 300cc's in me. We kept doing the walk/ bathroom combo. Little by little my bladder was going down. Thankfully, my doctor was cool and didn't rush me out the door. Because if he had, I would have been sent home with another catheter- my 5th one, to be exact.

One of my favorite nurses. Honestly, almost all of the hospital staff that I met were really great. They've set a high bar in case I'm ever admitted to another hospital. Most of the nurses were young and cool and sympathetic and fun and I felt like I had real friends taking care of me. I had this particular nurse twice during my stay and she was great both times. She didn't even rush me during my pee-a-thon.

I think it was finally around 3:30pm that my bladder registered under 100cc's. Boyfriend and I were ecstatic. No home cath for me. I felt like I'd just won my own gold medal in the Urination Olympics.

AND I WAS DISCHARGED!!

Doing my best impersonation of "acting normal". Also, Boyfriend snuck in my flat iron.

SINCE THEN...

-There's been some ups and downs. The pharmacy closed before we were able to pick up my meds on my first day home, which made me rage the fuck out. Thankfully, I still had some vicodin here and that held me over until the next morning.

-Pains have gotten more intense since coming home. I'm guessing that's because I'm doing more activities and not just sleeping 22 hours a day.

-It's hard to sleep comfortably. It turns out, those Craftmatic adjustable beds they have in the hospital come in pretty handy when you've had your guts all scrambled up.

-Had to take a shitload of Milk of Magnesia and Senekot-S to finally have a bowel movement (12 days after surgery!) without ripping my new butt open. Since I'm on a slightly modified diet (low fiber), my belly was FULL to the max. I couldn't even lean forward without it getting in the way. By the time I was finally able to go, it was like the gates to shit city opened. I'm not exaggerating when I say I was on the toilet for an hour straight this morning.

-Trying to spread out my Norco pills so I don't become a crackhead and end up on Intervention. Also trying to cut back because they cause constipation. Unfortunately, the pain in my incisions, abdomen, and back don't care that they make me constipated. Things hurt, man. So I'm still taking them semi-regularly.

-The Norco has also given me a crazy ITCCCCCHY rash up and down the right side of my torso. It's red and blotchy and puffy and I look like Eric Stoltz in Mask.

-I've been living in nightshirts like they're regular clothes. With these five incisions in my belly, even the slightest pressure feels like a burning hot sword through my skin. Clothing with a waistband is overrated.

-I'm so grateful for all of the doctors and nurses at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital who took great care of me. Without the help and comfort these people provided, my surgery and recovery could have had a much different outcome. Dr. Bounoua, Dr. Hogan, Dr. Chang, Dr. Cahill, Dr. Diamond, Dr. Erin, and nurses Naomi, Angie, Terri, Lisa, May Ann, Christina, Jasmin, and Carissa- THANK YOU!!


So that's it for my hospital update! Thanks again to everyone who's followed along on this medical saga. Your support means more than you know.  :)

-TILTE

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Care Package.

Yes, I'm alive!

I'll be back soon with all of the gory surgical details, my friends. Until then, here's an entry I wrote a few weeks ago.

:::ZzzzZzzZzzzzzzz:::


___________________________________________



Today I went to visit my mom because she said she had a surprise for me and if there's one thing my mom knows about me, it's that I love surprises and anything that could be construed as "gift-related".

Like any great mom would do, she put together a care package for my upcoming surgery.

The gifts inside of this care package rivaled Christmas morning. IT WAS GREAT.

My favorite items were:

-A nightshirt that read "TXT ME". It's a funny pick for my mom since she usually goes with something much more homely and floral and flannel and Laura Ashley.

-Ramona the Brave. In case I feel like reading. (She knows me so well. My reading maturity level pretty much topped out in the 4th grade.)

-Cloth bandage in case I end up with a colostomy bag. :::this is only funny in an awful way:::

-Bright nail polish. Because that's what all the hip kids on her favorite Korean soap opera wear. She even gave me the tip about painting one nail on each hand in a different color. She's funny. And cool.

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So... I Have Some News to Share.

You know how I'm always complaining about how I feel shitty and my insides are all kinds of awful?

Well, there's something I haven't quite let you in on.

And no, it's not that I'm pregnant.

I'm actually FAR from pregnant.

Unless you count endometriosis as "pregnant".

In which case, I'm about 60 months pregnant with the endo-baby from hell.


So, what's been going on (kind of) behind the scenes is that I've been playing scavenger hunt with doctors, trying to get to the root of my health problem. In the hopes that we can kill that fucking root dead.

Long story short: I'm going in for surgery on Monday.

------------------------------------------

Long story long: It's not exactly a simple little "endo removal" process.

You see, typically an endo removal procedure is around an hour'ish long, it's done laparoscopically (3-5 tiny holes made through the stomach), it's outpatient, and you're approved to go back to work the next day. Shoulder pain can occur due to all the carbon dioxide they pump into you. Over-the-counter pills aren't great, but they get the job done.

In my particular situation, (and this is where all of the male readers get hysterical blindness and quickly vacate the premises) the endo has attacked my colon. At this point, we don't really know how extensive it is, but it's enough to hinder my everyday activity (read: eating and sleeping).

What does that mean?

It means I will be getting laparoscopy surgery for endo removal AND a bowel resection. This procedure will be 3-4 hours long and *may* end up turning into a laparotomy (lateral incision of the stomach).

WTF is a bowel resection?

It's exactly what it sounds like.

They're going to REMOVE a section of my colon and REATTACH the two sections together.

Gross, right?

I KNOW.


It's kind of like MAJOR surgery.

Surprisingly, I don't feel nervous about it. Or it could be that I'm just not mentally aware of my nervousness. But actually, if you ask my guts how they feel about things, they'll probably tell you a completely different story about how they shit their brains out 85 times today while I was at the hospital doing my pre-op tests. That was awkward.

So, if all goes well I will keep all of my baby-making organs (minus the crusty endo-bombs), the resection will heal perfectly, and I'll be watching tivo'd Judge Judy episodes from the comforts of my own home in no time.

If all goes horribly wrong, I could end up with a hysterectomy and a poop tube sticking out of my stomach.

Fingers crossed for the first option.

_____________________________


I'm really excited to see what's going to happen. I'm ready to wake up post-op and find out when I can apply for the show Monsters Inside Me.

Hopefully after the surgery, when people ask me how I'm doing, they won't receive answers like "Explosive diarrhea all weekend." or "Bowel cleanse. Couldn't sleep because I thought I might shart myself all night."


I've forgotten what it's like to feel normal and not have to worry about a flare up, or staying close to the bathroom, or being stuck in the bathroom for 30 minutes at a time. I can't wait to get healthy and be able to make plans AWAY from the house. It's going to be a newfound freedom, that's for sure.

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I'm Tired.

I'm tired of being exhausted.
I'm tired of hurting when I sit.
I'm tired of hurting when I stand.
I'm tired of needing to be near a bathroom at all times.
I'm tired of spending half of the day on the toilet.
I'm tired of not being able to make plans because I don't know how I'm going to feel.
I'm tired of making plans and then having them ruined.
I'm tired of colonoscopies that make my guts feel like I did a thousand sit-ups.
I'm tired of shitting my intestines out.
I'm tired of calling in sick.
I'm tired of spending money on medical bills.
I'm tired of back aches.
I'm tired of crying.
I'm tired of people not knowing.
I'm tired of people acting like it's not a big deal.
I'm tired of trying and still not achieving.
I'm tired of having so many doctors I can't keep them straight.
I'm tired of taking pain relievers every three hours.
I'm tired of not having an appetite even though I know I'm hungry.
I'm tired of hearing "oncology" and "bowel resectioning".
I'm tired of describing a gut-wrenching pain that has no comparison.
I'm tired of waiting to feel better.

I'm tired of endometriosis.

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Another Endometriosis Post. I.e. Men, Look Away.

Several of you have asked me to keep you posted on the progress of my acupuncture visits.

By now, I should have had three visits. I actually only made it to two, but I'll get to that later.

I'm not sure if it's the acupuncture itself or the Chinese medicine I've been taking, but SOMETHING has made my non-period time MUCH better. Almost immediately after starting my first session, I noticed I wasn't feeling super exhausted all the time, I wasn't feeling nauseous all the time, and I didn't have the pains in my back that had been gnawing away at my left flank for the past X months. There's no question about it, I've felt considerably better since starting the visits with my acupuncturist.

However...

I've since started and ended my last cycle, or as I prefer to call it "Hell Week" (HW for short) and, MUCH to my dismay, it's been a much different story.

Once my insides kick-started this endo party, pretty much everything went back to normal in the unbearable department. -Which is why I couldn't make it to my last appointment. Extreme gut-wrenching, bowel-twisting pain on and off for three days straight. The toilet action was right on par for HW. Which was really great when it had me up in the bathroom for 30 minutes at a time in the middle of the night all three nights. The only difference between pre-acupuncture HW and post-acupuncture HW is that I had no back pain this whole time. Which is actually pretty surprising now that I'm thinking about it. That's usually a guaranteed party-killer. So I guess that's one more point for the Traditional Chinese Medicine side.

After going through both of those experiences, is it worth it?

In my opinion, yes. If I hadn't been feeling any difference and was getting a load of shit from my acupuncturist about how it will happen over time, I would probably feel differently. But I felt better right from day one. And despite the letdown I felt during HW, I think it makes up for it during the other three weeks of the month.

Since someone has already asked me about the name of the pills I'm taking (and also since I'm feeling generous because it's actually really expensive to keep getting this ish straight from the acupuncturist), I'll tell you I've been taking Shao Fu Zhu Yu Tang. Like I said, I'm not sure if it's been the pills or the acupuncture that's been helping me, so don't sue me if you run out, buy a Costco-size supply of them, and nothing happens. Also, don't sue me if you start taking them and you die. I'm no doctor. I'm not prescribing shit.

Some other semi-related stuff going on...

I went for an ultrasound a few weeks back. The ovarian cyst that's been chillin' like a villain over the past several years has grown. Disgusting, right? I know. I'm totally grossed out. They also found that I now have two "tiny, tiny" uterine fibroids, "but it's nothing to be concerned about", according to my doc. Fuck you. I TELL YOU WHEN IT'S TIME TO BE CONCERNED, GOT IT??!

After being laid-up over the past few days, I made my way back into work today. Within 10 minutes of walking in, my creative director gave me a hug and asked how I was doing. Which was precisely when my face crumbled like bleu cheese and I started crying like a mega psycho. That was a pretty special moment.

I'm not really sure why I started crying, it just happened. And I couldn't stop it. For like an hour. While sitting at my desk. I guess the best explanation is that endometriosis really wears you out, physically and emotionally. Not to mention, it's kind of like the hormone capital of the body. So when things are out of whack there, they're probably out of whack everywhere. Like your brain. And your eyeballs. That's why they cry. All on their own. Even though you're like "GET A FUCKING GRIP, EYEBALLS!! WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?!?"

In other nonsense...

Boyfriend and I watched "Behind the Scenes: The Go-Gos" last night. It was pretty interesting. And all day I've had this song stuck in my head.



I also learned that Belinda Carlisle grew up like 20 miles away from me.

Weird.

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Today I Went to the Acupuncturist.

Remember that time I told you I had endometriosis and grossed you out with a bunch of TMI details?

I still have endometriosis. But this time, no gory deets.

I will, however, share my experience of my first visit with an acupuncturist.

So.

I saw a specialist a couple weeks ago to inquire about getting a laparoscopic surgery to remove all my shitty insides. He said I may be jumping the gun and to hold off for a bit. Which was kind of fine with me because I wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to have a tube rammed down my throat, while they stick Hoover accoutrement through my abdomen.

But in the meantime, I wanted to do something about my ongoing pain/ exhaustion/ general lackluster feeling. And I wanted to try something different from my usual Tylenol/ hot pack combo.

My friend Rachel had recommended an acupuncturist whom she'd heard great things about, who happened to specialize in conditions like mine. Since I didn't have anything to lose except some uterine lining (Hey-O! Snuck that one in there!), I gave him a call.

I had no idea what to expect and was a little nervous when it came down to the thought of actually paying someone to turn me into a pin-cushion.

Today was my visit.

The doctor I met with was very nice and soothing. He asked me a bunch of questions and listened to my answers, instead of rushing me out the door like some of the previous doctors I've had. After about 15 minutes of chatting, he handed me a gown and told me to change down to my undergarments and gown. I had no idea this is how shit went down at an acupuncture visit and I was glad I'd made sure to shave my legs that morning.

While I was lying on the exam table, in my hospital gown tied in back, I realized why his office was heated like a disco inferno. It's because people pretty much get naked. And if they're anything like me, their knees are knocking out of nervousness and their hands are clammy and their feet are so cold they're about to amputate themselves.

When he came back in, he pressed on some spots on my tummy. A few spots in particular were so uncomfortable they caused me to flex my rock hard abs. He made note.

Then he brought out the needles.

He started with my lower left arm, rubbing up and down with some pressure. Maybe I'm such a weakling that when I'm just touched it hurts, or maybe the pressure was his trick to not get my to notice that he was putting in a needle. Either way, I didn't feel a thing.

Before I go any further, let me first say that these needles are tiny. They actually look more like fishing wire. They shouldn't even be called needles. Unless they're in your shin and you accidentally flex your foot. In which case, they hurt like a son of a bitch. More on that to come.

He continued on. Two on my left arm. Two on my right arm. One near each knee. One in each shin. And I think two in each foot.

The only one I felt was the left shin. That one pinched a little.

After they were all in, the doctor said we were going to do moxibustion. He explained that it's the burning of moxa, or mugwart, to stimulate blood flow to the desired acupuncture areas. He then used a blow torch to light each little moxa thing and stick them close to the acupuncture areas on my legs. As they burned they smelled like a cross between incense and weed.

At first, I didn't feel anything. And after maybe about 30 seconds it started to heat up. And then quickly after that it started to burn. As each one started to burn, I named which location was done cooking and the doctor removed it. We did three rounds of this.

Then he left me in the room for about 10 minutes with the just the acupuncture needles in me. I was fine with it because I couldn't feel them anyway and aside from that, he'd put a heat lamp right next to my feet and it was making me go all sleeptime. Also, there was soothing music on and I was pretending I was at the spa.

At some point during my relax sesh, I made the mistake of wanting to get closer to the heat. So I FLEXED my left foot closer to the lamp.

Did I mention it was a mistake...?

A pain that can best be described as "giant hypodermic needle being stabbed into your shin by an evil crackhead nurse" went shooting up and down from the acupuncture site. My keen observations told me I shouldn't have fucking done that, so I relaxed my foot and laid completely fucking still for the rest of the visit.

When the doctor came back in, he removed all of the needles. -Which was just as easy as when he put them all in. He brought with him a little bag of Chinese medicine that looked exactly like Biscuit's doggy kibble.

The instructions were to take 12 pills, 3 times a day.

I'm serious.

That's 36 pills per day.

I took my first set of twelve at lunch time and thankfully I didn't die.

I have another appointment with my new best acupuncturist friend next weekend.

I'll keep you posted.

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Life with Endometriosis.

Most of you have no idea what endometriosis is like. Lucky for you, I'm here. Today I'm going to enlighten you on what it's like to have endometriosis.

WARNING: This is not really a humorous look at endometriosis. I mean, it's somewhat humorous, but the point here is that it really fucking sucks. This is a 100% frustrated rant based on the fact that I've been in unbearable pain today. (Male readers- go ahead and exit this window now.)


So, there's the given: Periods with endometriosis are not like normal periods. They involve fucking nightmarish cramps that take over your whole mid-section. Front to back. Down the legs. Buttcheeks? Yes. Those too.

Day one of period time consists of two locations: the bed and the toilet. The pain is so intense, the only reason you'd even consider getting out of bed is because you're about to blow your insides right through your butthole. And by "insides", I don't mean "poop". I mean like your internal organs and shit. Right out your butt.

Toilet times are spent alternating between getting the chills and feeling feverish. Your stomach contracts like you're about to wretch. Only you don't. Instead, you just pass some uterine lining. And then you feel relief. And go back to bed. And wait for it to start all over again.

Kind of like this. Only not as human-looking.

And then there's the big whopper when it comes to endo: The 40% chance of infertility. Which is a bummer. Especially when everyone you know is getting pregnant. Or worse yet- hearing about another unplanned "accident". It seems like (for some women) the wind just has to blow a certain direction and they get pregnant.

That shit makes me mad.

Especially when you consider that genes this cute may go to waste.

Too cute to not have kids.

But then, there are also the ongoing side effects. Pains and discomforts that happen at any time, without notice, and for no good reason.

At any given time, it feels like someone's taken a bicycle pump and is slowing blowing up your stomach, making it feel like there's not even enough room for your own organs inside your skin. Even the weight of a feather resting on your tummy feels like a 10 ton boulder.

...It feels like there's a little monster living inside your lower abdomen who likes scrape a razor blade along your insides. Over and over. In slow motion.

...And you know that aching feeling you get in your back when you're about to come down with a bad cold or flu? Yeah, that ache comes with endo too. And it shows up whenever it feels like it, not just at period time.

...And you hardly make it through a day without your over-the-counter pain killers. (My liver is screwed.)

...And your appetite is fucked because your stomach is usually somewhere in the queesy zone. Not that you'll necessarily eat any less. You'll just find that your favorite foods have lost that "loving feeling".

...And don't forget about the lack of energy and endless fatigue. Napping quickly becomes your favorite extra-curricular activity.

...And also there's a really annoying heaviness in your bottom. Like someone just opened a flap on your back side, tucked a brick in each butt cheek, and then closed it back up again.

My insides. (Click for a better view)

And the cure for endometriosis? Well, there is none. But there are a few ways to decrease symptoms:

1. Hormone therapy. AKA Turn yourself into a man.

2. Hysterectomy.

3. Birth control.

Now, I'm no doctor, but none of those seem like viable options for anyone who may be trying to conceive. Which means, sorry sucker, you're just going to have to be in pain.

Well, that's all I care to think of right now in regards to endometriosis. I'm sure there's more to add, but the Vicodin's kicked in and I'm ready to stare mindlessly at the TV.

If you get anything out of this post, just know that endo really sucks. And if you know someone who has it, maybe you'll have some compassion.

Luckily, everyone I know has been really understanding when I say I'm not feeling well (except maybe my ex who suggested it was all in my head). But it's days like this, when I've really had a hard time with it, that make me want to share my experiences.

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