"I dunno what the hell's in there, but it's weird and pissed off, whatever it is."

I had a follow up appointment today. I knew it was going to be...interesting. I have hazy memories of what my doctor tried to tell me, post-surgery, but I also have memories of dancing in competitions and working in erotic films that were concocted by my drug-addled brain. 

It's weird to think that one hundred years ago, if anyone had the chance to see the parts of my body that I've seen, they'd be moments away from death. 

So, here's what I learned:

As my doctor put it, I have a WILD PELVIS. It's a hot mess in there, or at least it was. There were tons of adhesions and endometrial spots. There was a huge 8 x 10 cm endometrioma INSIDE my right ovary. My ovaries and tubes were twisted and mangled and pretty much my entire pelvic region was an absolute hot, hot, hot, sweltering, burning, smoldering, ugly mess. 

Except my uterus. My uterus is oddly fine. Which is extremely good news, I suppose.  And there's nothing malignant. Which is fantastic. 

I'm also fortunate because my physician is skilled enough that he was able to carefully extract the chocolate cyst (not nearly as delicious as it sounds) without damaging the surrounding ovarian tissue. This is really a feat; most doctors would just remove the entire ovary. And I need those ovaries. 

All of this work on my interior means I was entirely validated in feeling exhausted and miserable. I guess I didn't really comprehend how intensive this surgery was, because to me, "out-patient" means you get a fat node removed from your head (don't judge, you guys.)

With Jacob there (who kept starting bizarre conversations while we were waiting), it was nice to be able to openly discuss our options. In a few weeks, I'll need to start Lupron, which, while it will kill off the microscopic endometriosis, will also cause me to go into temporary menopause and become severely depressed and forgetful. I can't wait.

Again, we discussed the option of trying to conceive naturally. However, a new issue is the increased risk of ectopic pregnancy, which we all have ZERO interest in seeing happen. So IVF is officially our best and safest option... But we have a few months to get a new insurance plan for me while I'm on Lupron-emotional-health-killer. 

(My doctor did appreciate my joke about joining a retiree knitting circle since I'd be in temporary menopause. I don't think he gets many jokes from his patients.)

All of this was a bit overwhelming. I just are possibly the biggest, most decadent bowl of frozen yogurt on land, sea, or sky. I feel better; I'm just the type of person who needs time to process things. I also like dessert. 

I was going to rant about something, but I'll save it for a day when I wear my "Shut Up About Babies" shirt. I might wear that shirt when I run my half marathon...

So, who wants to see something gross? I have pictures of my uterus. It seriously looks like the replicating alien from John Carpenter's The Thing. I'm not kidding. It's terrifying. 

This is your last warning. I'll just leave this at the bottom of the post. It's hard to even tell what it is, but I have the feeling MacReady would shoot it if he saw it. 

Okay, here's my pre-surgery pelvis. The dark spots are endo, the white things are my ovaries. It's a mess. I'm glad it's all cleaned up now. 

Hey, I'm still here!

So. I have returned. Bonjour, Internet community.
I got a little tired of blogging about infertility. I figured if maybe I ignored that part of my life for a while, it would go away and not affect me as much.
Turns out, that's not how it works. I'm going to drop all the necessary info for all of you, as I'm getting a lot of questions and people hestitant to ask, although still curious.
Back in...April? March? I don't exactly remember, but whenever it was, I finally went to see a well-renowned reproductive endocrinologist. And, for the first time, someone took an interest in my situation. They didn't suggest I have more sex or take herbal supplements. They didn't think I was crazy for feeling dull and achy all the time. And they decided that I needed some testing done to pinpoint exactly what my reproductive issues were.
So, just as I began substitute teaching in my district, I began a regimen of driving over to my doctor's office at the crack of dawn for a blood draw and an awkward ultrasound. (Here's a piece of advice: eat something before a blood draw if you plan on teaching AP English that day, or else the high school secretary will have to supply you with fruit snacks.) During one of those occasions, it was discovered an old nemesis had returned: I had another orange-sized ovarian cyst.
Damn. Ughhhhhhh. Again. This again. I'm really not amused.
Both Jacob and I had a consult in June with my doctor to discuss this. Now, this guy is a really great physician, and since he's still in educational medicine, he's focused on helping, not making a profit. And he's charmingly funny. But none of that cushions the news that I once again have to go through the "punishment" (as my doctor calls it) of a laparoscopy to remove my cyst. Unfortunately, we had to hold off until mid-July as he'd be on vacation for a while. But, he also gave me a rundown of my other fertility issues: basically, I'm missing a hormone cue at a certain point and my eggs don't get effectively released. And that ineffective release is causing cysts. There's a little more to it, but that's basically it. Now, had I been blood tested years ago, all I needed was two hormone injections at the right time and my fertility would be at full power.
But that's not the typical course of my life. Anyway, let's fast forward to last week. I finally got my cyst removed. Let me tell you: laparoscopies are not a fun experience. I seemed to have forgotten that. It was scheduled as an out-patient procedure, so I assumed, "Oh, this will be EASY. I'll probably be able to go for a walk afterwards and maybe pop a few Tylenol and be great. Maybe I just got unlucky with my last one." Lies. All lies. Just because they're small incisions doesn't mean the surgeon isn't de-mangling your insides. Which is exactly what my doctor had to do. Apparently, my endometrial adhesions had caused both ovaries and Fallopian tubes to be stuck to the back of my uterus. Plus, there was some extra crap and stuff; I'm not exactly sure. I was under anesthesia when it was explained to me.
Unfortunately, my tubes were in worse shape than expected. They'd probably pass a dye test (meaning dye could pass all the way through) but it would be difficult for an egg to get through. While not impossible, it would take long enough that the amount of cycles it would take to achieve a bun in the oven would probably result in another bad endometriosis flare.
So, basically, that means that IVF is our best course of action. I'm not upset, really. I just am sad that my babies are going to be so expensive. Because kids are already expensive. And my accountant hates spending money.  I'm sure you're all thinking, "Why don't they just adopt a kid?" To that, I need to explain that pregnancy is probably one of the best things for a woman with endometriosis. It helps our bodies reset and gives us a break from it. So, while I'm not against adopting in the future (and I want to adopt EVERYTHING as it is), I probably need to go this route. And I've made my peace with that.
Before we can do IVF, however, I need to do a course of a drug called Lupron to treat whatever microscopic endometrial spots are left. While this drug is really successful at that, the side effects are depression and forgetfulness. Which means I'll crazy times ten and probably will need a lot of hugs. I've made my peace with that as well.
What I haven't made my peace with is this horribly itchy rash I've developed as a reaction to either my codeine or the anesthesia. I struggle with anesthesia... Anyway, it sucks. It's the worst. Plus, I've been unable to be on effective pain meds for a while, so
I'm incredibly sore still.
However, I'm really doing well otherwise. I've started running again. I got myself in over my head and started training for a half marathon this fall. I mean, I've taken the last week and a half off, but I look forward to getting back out there soon. So is Linus. And Louie (for those of you who haven't heard from me for the last year, Louie is our dumb puppy addition. We love him but he's mighty dumb.)
So, that's it. I mean, there are the facts and now you don't have to awkwardly skirt around questions or topics when you talk to me, because hell, the whole situation is awkward. Now we can get back to celebrity gossip, discussion of string theory, and Gandhi's teachings on non-violence. And wine-drinking.