There is a mental state
I strive to achieve a homeostatic state a humming a lull like those alpha wave tapes they sold in the 60's
I need to hear that in my head all day. Instead of the clanging of my thoughts and the clashing of my
wants versus what I should do need to do and the sad, bright violins from "Sunshine" so melancholy
so consistent that remind me how it is not to have anyone understand
fi-broid: fibrous tissue growth: a benign growth composed of fibrous and muscle tissue, especially one that develops in the wall of the womb and is associated with painful and excessive menstrual flow. Fibroids can be removed surgically and are not life-threatening, but fibroids in the womb reduce the chance of pregnancy.
I have 2. One is the size of a tangerine and one a little bigger than a golf ball.
I couldn't sleep all night. I had so much pain in that area (womb). I was just completely uncomfortable and downright miserable. WHAT ON GOD'S EARTH COULD BE HURTING THIS MUCH??? What could have been building up like this for years? What's causing me to have more than one period a month?? What's hurting everytime my baby and I lay together? Why am I having cramps weeks after menstruation?? What is happening to me??? Well... now I have an answer.
"How are you doing? You were handed a pretty heavy emotional load today by the doctor," my brother said. And my only response was... "Was I? He didn't tell me I had cancer. He didn't tell me I HAD to have a hysterectomy. He didn't tell me that I have some wild rampaging disease. He really told me... look... shit or get off the pot. You either take care of yourself now and have the same hand that everyone else has been dealt (health wise)... or keep living like you do... eating anything, drinking anything, smoking anything and staying sedentary... and you may just have a hundred-pound fibroid. Or one that is the size of a cantaloupe. It's your choice." How heavy of a load is that? Sounds to me to be more of a... warning. Here is my turning point. I can do it right from now on... or I can ignore it and toss my chances of being healthy / motherly / elderly out the window... for fleeting enjoyment of things that ultimately make me sick. Shit. Or get off the pot.
I'll enjoy my last week as a rebel... Sunday... I'm shitting. And it will stay that way.
My doctor only had to say the "h" word one time. Hysterectomy is NOT in the plans here. Even if I can't use it. It's mine. It belongs where God put it. And God willing... no one will have to take it out. Dr. B has put me back on the pill.. this time the Patch... So I look forward to being really crappy to everyone. Just generally apathetic and distasteful. But... if it will help to regulate what the hell is happening in my body... so be it. My apologies in advance to everyone.
I did cry for a second... when I thought about how the odds are stacked up against me for having a baby of my own. And what I must have done in a past life to be considered unfit for motherhood in this one. But I couldn't cry for long. My baby, who escaped from work to take me to the dr... was right there to wipe my tears away. And tell me that he loves me. And that he doesn't think I'm defective; he thinks I'm the best thing that ever happened to him and that we would always be together.
Today, like every day... is one to count blessings.
