It's not me, it's Uterus.
It's 2008, and I'm 15 years old. I'm teaching swimming lessons. The pain in my abdomen has me doubled over in the pool, and at first I think to myself, "it's just bad cramps." Our first 20 minute lesson ends and I run to the bathroom. I'm bleeding, and I start to realize that this is more than just an average cycle. The pain is becoming too much, and I convince myself that I'm just being dramatic.
I hop back in the pool, only to run back to the bathroom ten minutes later, blood running down my leg. I call my supervisor in and let her know I can't continue my class. She takes over, and I call my mom to come and get me.
As my moms car pulls up, I see the concern on her face. Normally, I would just hop in the passenger seat and continue home, and instead my mom gets out of the car. "You're really pale.. What's wrong?" she asks.
"I'm bleeding.. Bad."
We drive to the emergency room, where the hook me up to IV's, administer a syringe full of Dilaudid, and wheel me into the ultrasound room. The screen lights up with hundreds of ovarian cysts, all rupturing at the same time.
PCOS.
My doctor puts me on birth control and tells me that it should sovle my problem. Six months later, I'm back in the emergency room. They change my birth control again and send me on my way. This cycle continues, year after year.
Finally, at the age of 20, my OB/GYN recommends surgery to remove a cyst that refuses to rupture on it's own. He tells me, "If we do this, we can check for endometriosis, and if we can get your body healthy, this will be your chance to have a child." We went through with the surgery and decided, even though we were young, this was our chance to have a family.
When the anesthesia wares off, I'm told that they found endometriosis-enough that it had been contributing to both my pain and the bleeding. My doctor burned off the endo, put me on fertility meds, and sent me on my way.
8 months later, I found out I was pregnant with Brinlee, and 9 months after that, she was born. A beautiful, healthy baby girl. "Pregnancy causes endometriosis to go into remission, you should be healthy for a few years."
Instead, 3 months later, my boss found me passed out and hemmorrhaging in the work bathroom. I woke up in the hospital. The endometriosis was back, 10x worse than it was before I had Brinlee. Remission, my ass.
Three weeks later, I followed up with another OB, and another, and another and muttered the words "I want a hysterectomy".
"We won't do that-Insurance won't approve it."
"I won't do that-you're too young to decide you don't want kids."
"I'll do it, but insurance says 'no'."
For 3 years, this conversation cycled, back and forth. I was told that I was being dramatic, that the pain shouldn't be as bad as it was. I was told I wasn't old enough to make that kind of decision. I was told that there was no possible way I could know that I didn't want any more kids.
For me, wanting kids was never my battle. My battle was taking care of the child that I do have. My battle was the medical bills that continued piling up as I became a regular patient in the emergency room. My battle was my state of mind and my mental health, in the discouragement I felt as my quality of life dwindled, and I was continuously stuck in bed, hemmorhaghing out and doubled over in pain. How could any doctor tell me that my future children were more important than taking care of the child I already had?
I found Dr. Martin by happenstance- my normal OB wasn't in the office and I had to see someone about a cyst. After reviewing my chart and discussing my history, he said "I don't want to take an associates patient, but we need to do something. How would you feel about another surgery, so I can go in, look around, and see if we can fix this?"
I jumped on it. I was finally being heard. He acknowledged my pain, and told me that my body was MINE. He could not make my decisions for me. I knew my pain, and I knew what I needed.
He went in for the surgery, and found a uterus 4X it's normal size, and endometriosis tangled in my muscle tissues so deeply, there was no chance he could remove it. I woke up from my anesthesia feeling hopeful. This is my chance to get this taken out-this is proof that no kind of birth control or "new-to-the-market" meds would fix me, and he agreed. Insurance companies, however, did not.
We spent 9 months trying to get a hysterectomy approved. I took medicine they requested, I used an IUD for 6 months, which gave me constant cramps and caused me to have continuous bleeding for 5 months straight. We kept pushing, and finally insurance said OK. One week later, I lost my job, along with my insurance. Back to square one.
September 2018. I've just started a new job. I'm standing in my station, cramps so bad they're shooting down my legs and into my rib cage. I'm trying to stand upright but the pain is unbearable. I tell my coworked I need to go to the restroom, and as I sat down, I realized that I was hemmorhaging, much more extreme than normal. I text our manager that I have to go to the hopsital, and I faint when I get into my car to drive. I drove anyways, worried about what would happen.
2 hours later I'm on a new hormone to stop the hemmorhaging, and 2 days later I'm back in the e.r. because the bleeding and swelling are just as bad as they were when I first went in. They do tests, and tell me "it's just endometriosis, here's some pain meds, go home." I sit on the edge of my hospital bed and I cry. I'm frustrated and exhausted.
One month later, the same thing happens. Hemmorhaging, pain, hospital, home.. It's a neverending cycle and I don't have the energy to fight anymore. I leave the hospital, discouraged, and receive a call from my OB. It's a Saturday afternoon. He is home with his family, and was alerted of my hospital stay and calls me. "Give me your insurance information, I'm going to keep fighting for you." I hang up the phone and I cry. Finally, my advocate. He has seen my struggles, and he has fought for me for a year at this point, and he continues fighting.
Yesterday, I had my appt to discuss the insurance decision. They requested an updated ultrasound, an updated pelvic exam, blood work and my reasons for wanting a hysterectomy. After 2 hours, the tests were done and it was time for the conversation. My doctor went over the surgical process. He told me what to expect, and he said "This is going to get approved. I have tricks up my sleeve and if they try to push back anymore, I'm not going to let them". He sent the recommendation for a hysterectomy from himself and 2 other OB's within their practice.
I cried when I left his office. I cried because I was happy. I could finally see the end.
Today, I sit and wait for the call to tell me when my surgery is. I'm overwhelmed with excitement and nerves. I'm sad to know that I'll never again take another pregnancy test. I'll never carry another child or feel my baby kick. Even though those sad feelings are there, I also know that I also won't have to tell Brinlee "be careful, mommy's belly hurts again". I won't miss out on time with her because I'm back in the hospital. I won't miss my child's life because someone else thought I needed a uterus.
I am happy for this next chapter, and exited to be able to live again.
I hop back in the pool, only to run back to the bathroom ten minutes later, blood running down my leg. I call my supervisor in and let her know I can't continue my class. She takes over, and I call my mom to come and get me.
As my moms car pulls up, I see the concern on her face. Normally, I would just hop in the passenger seat and continue home, and instead my mom gets out of the car. "You're really pale.. What's wrong?" she asks.
"I'm bleeding.. Bad."
We drive to the emergency room, where the hook me up to IV's, administer a syringe full of Dilaudid, and wheel me into the ultrasound room. The screen lights up with hundreds of ovarian cysts, all rupturing at the same time.
PCOS.
My doctor puts me on birth control and tells me that it should sovle my problem. Six months later, I'm back in the emergency room. They change my birth control again and send me on my way. This cycle continues, year after year.
Finally, at the age of 20, my OB/GYN recommends surgery to remove a cyst that refuses to rupture on it's own. He tells me, "If we do this, we can check for endometriosis, and if we can get your body healthy, this will be your chance to have a child." We went through with the surgery and decided, even though we were young, this was our chance to have a family.
When the anesthesia wares off, I'm told that they found endometriosis-enough that it had been contributing to both my pain and the bleeding. My doctor burned off the endo, put me on fertility meds, and sent me on my way.
8 months later, I found out I was pregnant with Brinlee, and 9 months after that, she was born. A beautiful, healthy baby girl. "Pregnancy causes endometriosis to go into remission, you should be healthy for a few years."
Instead, 3 months later, my boss found me passed out and hemmorrhaging in the work bathroom. I woke up in the hospital. The endometriosis was back, 10x worse than it was before I had Brinlee. Remission, my ass.
Three weeks later, I followed up with another OB, and another, and another and muttered the words "I want a hysterectomy".
"We won't do that-Insurance won't approve it."
"I won't do that-you're too young to decide you don't want kids."
"I'll do it, but insurance says 'no'."
For 3 years, this conversation cycled, back and forth. I was told that I was being dramatic, that the pain shouldn't be as bad as it was. I was told I wasn't old enough to make that kind of decision. I was told that there was no possible way I could know that I didn't want any more kids.
For me, wanting kids was never my battle. My battle was taking care of the child that I do have. My battle was the medical bills that continued piling up as I became a regular patient in the emergency room. My battle was my state of mind and my mental health, in the discouragement I felt as my quality of life dwindled, and I was continuously stuck in bed, hemmorhaghing out and doubled over in pain. How could any doctor tell me that my future children were more important than taking care of the child I already had?
I found Dr. Martin by happenstance- my normal OB wasn't in the office and I had to see someone about a cyst. After reviewing my chart and discussing my history, he said "I don't want to take an associates patient, but we need to do something. How would you feel about another surgery, so I can go in, look around, and see if we can fix this?"
I jumped on it. I was finally being heard. He acknowledged my pain, and told me that my body was MINE. He could not make my decisions for me. I knew my pain, and I knew what I needed.
He went in for the surgery, and found a uterus 4X it's normal size, and endometriosis tangled in my muscle tissues so deeply, there was no chance he could remove it. I woke up from my anesthesia feeling hopeful. This is my chance to get this taken out-this is proof that no kind of birth control or "new-to-the-market" meds would fix me, and he agreed. Insurance companies, however, did not.
We spent 9 months trying to get a hysterectomy approved. I took medicine they requested, I used an IUD for 6 months, which gave me constant cramps and caused me to have continuous bleeding for 5 months straight. We kept pushing, and finally insurance said OK. One week later, I lost my job, along with my insurance. Back to square one.
September 2018. I've just started a new job. I'm standing in my station, cramps so bad they're shooting down my legs and into my rib cage. I'm trying to stand upright but the pain is unbearable. I tell my coworked I need to go to the restroom, and as I sat down, I realized that I was hemmorhaging, much more extreme than normal. I text our manager that I have to go to the hopsital, and I faint when I get into my car to drive. I drove anyways, worried about what would happen.
2 hours later I'm on a new hormone to stop the hemmorhaging, and 2 days later I'm back in the e.r. because the bleeding and swelling are just as bad as they were when I first went in. They do tests, and tell me "it's just endometriosis, here's some pain meds, go home." I sit on the edge of my hospital bed and I cry. I'm frustrated and exhausted.
One month later, the same thing happens. Hemmorhaging, pain, hospital, home.. It's a neverending cycle and I don't have the energy to fight anymore. I leave the hospital, discouraged, and receive a call from my OB. It's a Saturday afternoon. He is home with his family, and was alerted of my hospital stay and calls me. "Give me your insurance information, I'm going to keep fighting for you." I hang up the phone and I cry. Finally, my advocate. He has seen my struggles, and he has fought for me for a year at this point, and he continues fighting.
Yesterday, I had my appt to discuss the insurance decision. They requested an updated ultrasound, an updated pelvic exam, blood work and my reasons for wanting a hysterectomy. After 2 hours, the tests were done and it was time for the conversation. My doctor went over the surgical process. He told me what to expect, and he said "This is going to get approved. I have tricks up my sleeve and if they try to push back anymore, I'm not going to let them". He sent the recommendation for a hysterectomy from himself and 2 other OB's within their practice.
I cried when I left his office. I cried because I was happy. I could finally see the end.
Today, I sit and wait for the call to tell me when my surgery is. I'm overwhelmed with excitement and nerves. I'm sad to know that I'll never again take another pregnancy test. I'll never carry another child or feel my baby kick. Even though those sad feelings are there, I also know that I also won't have to tell Brinlee "be careful, mommy's belly hurts again". I won't miss out on time with her because I'm back in the hospital. I won't miss my child's life because someone else thought I needed a uterus.
I am happy for this next chapter, and exited to be able to live again.
Comments
Post a Comment