So this happened…

I’m in bed, three small incisions in my belly. A heart full of emotions. A head full of questions. One less reproductive organ and weeks of recovery ahead of me.

Internet

Allow me to explain:

You have probably noticed that I haven’t blogged for a while. Well, a week or so.

On Sunday, I had experienced some “all round” pain, couldn’t walk too well and spent the day resting in bed – thinking my body was run down and I was coming down with something. It seemed as though everyone had flu at the time too. I wish it was flu.

Monday morning I got ready for work thinking that if it got any worst I would go to the doctor thereafter (this is a mom thing – be brave till you can’t anymore), but on the way to the office something told me go to the doc, check it out. Score some sick leave. You need the rest.

I arrived at the doctor by about 7:20am, and saw him shortly after. He asked me a few questions and with a rather startled look on his face informed me that he was going to be calling the hospital. He thought I had appendicitis. Much of what happened after is a blur – I was admitted to hospital and thoroughly tested for a whole day, by the end of Monday they had referred me to a gynae because “my appendix” was actually a big cyst on my ovary.

This was a relief – plenty of people have ovarian cysts right – it’s a non-invasive little op to remove and I would be back at work the following week.

I wasn’t so lucky.

I went in for a laparoscopy on Tuesday and slept most of the day.

Wednesday morning the Dr informed me that I had lost an ovary in the procedure. “There wasn’t much to save”, he said.

I was overly emotional.

My first thoughts were – I’m not going to be able to have babies. I want to have babies. I think he could tell – because he followed with “You still have one good ovary – luckily you had two”, right? You would think this would be comforting because everyone, and I do mean everyone has been saying that to me.

I’m still coming to terms with the fact that this even happened. Last week this time I was healthy, normal, happy that it was when Friday came. Preparing for the week ahead. Making plans. I was making plans for this week, for the week after, for next month – and now…

I’m in bed, three small incisions in my belly. A heart full of emotions. A head full of questions. One less reproductive organ and weeks of recovery ahead of me.