solosater

I was thinking that quite a few of us have talked about sensitivity to all sorts of different things and the ways we cope. I may ramble a bit here but bear with me and I'll try to bring it 'round again...

Am I over sensitive or is everyone else a little numb? Is my brother freakishly smart while the rest of us mere mortals are on the dim side? Are wild mood swings wrong or are we all just a little boring?

I get terrible headaches from HDTV while most people are amazed at the great picture. Fluorescent lights drive me up the wall while most people think they are the best thing since sliced bread; they're cheap to buy, they're cheap to use and they last forever. What's not to love? Synthetic fabrics make my skin hurt but they are cheaper to make, and cheaper to buy and they don't need ironing! Midnight and probably quite a few others here are bipolar, they likely can do more in their manic times than the rest of us can do in twice the time but the world runs on a seven day 9-5 schedule so they take medicine to "fit in". Alcoholics may very well be doing the same thing for similar reasons.

I wonder though what kind of damage could be occurring to the eyes, the ears, and possibly the brain that causes the headaches that most aren't getting? Will we find out in 30 years that we've caused some real damage that no one even noticed by watching HD and using the cheaper to use bulb? Do you know that synthetic fabrics will outlast your flesh and even likely your bones? Does that sound good? Where will the earth be if it cannot purge the waste from our throw away society? And do you know what's in the water? The heavy metals and chemicals and even hormones, not just from the factories but even from our own waste! We take so much medicine for every little thing that not only are we becoming immune to the drugs but we are polluting the earth with it too.

I certainly don't think we can or even should stop progress but (and this is where I hope to come round to the beginning again) are we perhaps protected by our "over" sensitivities? Is it perhaps better to follow our own body's schedule instead of the corporate worlds? I'm not saying that we shouldn't take our anti-depressants or anti-anxiety drugs if we need them to cope but what if we could take less or if we could take something more natural. I certainly don't think we should stop taking our hormones ladies, talk about suicidal!

I think some of us have advantages that we and perhaps other too may see as weaknesses. I think we should try to see the good in ourselves and cater a little to our differences instead of dealing with the consequences of trying to fit in to a mold that only helps the corporate world.

So? Crazy? Gone 'round the bend? Off my rocker?

Perhaps;-)

marius

Wow - such an educational and wonderful thread! Robin, had NO idea that medical establishment is doing as you say. Yippee for them! Peasy, you are added to my good wishes and prayers list. (Don't get full of yourself ... giggle ... I think everyone is on that list and btw, anyone can feel free to add me to lists like that cause I'm *always* in need of help.)

Solo, that is very interesting about intelligence and addiction. Made me think of a book, "Emotional Intelligence." It presents the idea that there are different kinds of intelligences and explains why intelligence, as measured by IQ tests, may not be enough to help people navigate the slippery slopes of life. It's that way in my family - lots of IQ intelligence, severe emotional difficulties, addictions ... oh, and mental illness too! But it certainly seems that every single one of us missed "Emotions 101" ... whenever it was taught.

And as for fitting in (to corporate world or other worlds) ... makes me think of yesterday. Took two grand kids (grandson-11, granddaughter-12) for the afternoon. We ended up in a slow-flowing creekbed at a park. The water was low enough that we could jump from rock to rock across much of the creek. Grandson was skipping rocks and asked if I would object to a contest to see who could hit a water strider with a rock. (And for those who may not know - water striders are nifty little bugs that skate along the top of the water surface.) Now begins an odd conversation that is still rattling around in my head ... if you recall, GS (grandson) had just asked if I'd object to a contest of seeing who could hit water striders with a rock.

Me: Well, I can't see the point of killing an animal unless you are going to eat it or need it in some way.
GS: Grandma! (huffing noises here) It's just a bug!
Me: To you it might be "just a bug," but I'm sure if you asked him what he thinks of himself, his definition might be quite a bit larger than that.
GS: Grandma! It's a B-U-G!!!
Me: And? You think a bug is less than you? He might have a different opinion about that.
GS: A bug IS less. I'm human!
Me: That's the problem. People go around with all kinds of strange notions. Do you think you are better or worth more than a bug?
GS: Yes ... I'm HUMAN!
Me: And, being human makes you better than other things that are living?
GS: I'm better than the bug.
Me: Are you sure? I mean, if someone said, "Okay, we're gonna take your grandkid or the water strider, pick one," of course I'd pick you ... but that's because I love you and I know you better than I know the water strider. It's not because I think you are BETTER THAN the water strider. I don't think I'm better than the water strider either. Who knows, maybe for some reason of which we are not aware, all the water striders in this creek are very important today. Maybe the whole world depends on all of them being able to stay alive today. I don't know it this is true or not, but you don't either.
GS: Grandma, be serious!

But, I was being serious. Maybe that's my problem. (giggle - and hey, I never said I was normal.) When we got home, grandson had to replay the whole conversation for his mom and thirteen year old sibling. They agreed in theory that bugs are important, but equally as important as a human being? They kind of looked at me like, "Yep - that's wacky grandma." There was still love, so I'm not cast out of the family, but I don't find this idea a wacky notion at all. It's more a feeling thing than idea anyway. I just don't *feel* that a life has less value because it's not a *human* life.

All last night I kept thinking of the water striders and wondering things like, "What if they understood our words? What if they are happy to be alive today? As far as I know, science has yet to prove that water striders don't have feelings one way or the other."

Guess I have problems with one life form deciding that another has less value. I'm stymied. And, laugh your heads off (spouse did when I related this story), but truly ... I have NO proof that I'm more valuable than the water strider.

And, yes, I'll take any feedback or insight about this. I was a furious killer of ants when I was a kid, so I'm no angel. I kill mosquitoes when I catch them feeding on me. Spouse kills the wasps around the house because our cat likes to eat them and gets stung pretty badly. I feel bad for the wasps. Spiders are swept up and placed outside before spouse can find them. Now I'll slope off into the corner. (think I borrowed that last sentence from Sheftali)

Dragon

Interesrting point marius, this thread is getting very philosophical. In the grand scheme of things it may very well be that water striders are in fact more important than humans. I mean think about it from an environmental point of view. Hundreds of species have been obliterated in the last hundred years and every one of them played an important role in their ecosystem. Pretty much the only species whose extinction would actually improve the planet would be us, Humans. So really, who's more important?

solosater

And look at what they are saying about the bees dying off and the impact it will have and already is having. I don't know about water striders but I never cared to know much about bees either and look where that has gotten us.

The bible says that every living thing (animal) is a soul so as far as our creator is concerned there is an impact when any living thing dies. That would stop me from killing for sport even if I wouldn't do it anyway.

marius

Ohhh - Dragon and solosater are helping me feel less wacky. Thank you!

solosater, if you know, would you cite the bible verse, passage, that tells that every living thing has a soul? I'd like to share it with our 81 year old, Baptist neighbor. She said the sad thing about dying will be when her cats can't join her in heaven. She is truly sad about this. I tell her ... if pets can't join us in the afterworld, then who would want to go there?
She just smiles. : )

midnightpoet

I am a bug killer. I feel bad when I do it, but they seriously creep me out. It's something I've worked on recently, because I've been trying to teach my daughter that bugs really aren't that bad. Kind of like how my mother taught me and my brothers that vegitables are good when she really doesn't like them.

I was watching Charmed over at my friend's house earlier, and a guy killed a spider in it. I found myself wondering "was that a real live spider? did they actually go out and find a spider to kill for the sake of the episode?" The thought really bothered me...

I'm in the process of moving right now, and it's going to take a while to get internet in my new place. On top of that, I tried to turn on my computer Friday morning, and was greeted my a metallic grinding noise. It seems my harddrive is fried. I'm going nuts without a computer. Well, I'm going nuts anyway...but that's an entirely different story.

matthew

I shoo feeding mosquitoes off of me... I catch flies, spiders & other creepy crawlers that find their way into my home & place them carefully outside...

I eat meat & use leather products so I do "assist" in the killing of animals. I just do not see the "need" to kill anything needlessly...

Dragon

I'm afraid I too am a bug killer (despite my believing they are an important part of the eco system). I limit myself to just killing the ones in my house or work. If they're outside they're pretty safe from me (unless they are biting or stinging me or crawling on me, but that's just reflexes). I won't tolerate them in my house and I'm afraid Ill whack them rather than the more liberated catch and release method. Bees are my one exception. If I find one in the house I'll gently catch it and let it go outside.
I once worked in a store that specialized in leather purses and wallets etc. One of my co-workers was absolutly anti-meat, anti-leather, anti anything which may cause any discomfort to any animal. I applaud her in her beliefs but had to think she was in the wrong job. I always thought it was a little hypocritical of her to be against all those things in her life but go ahead and sell leather goods anyways.

solosater

marius, Genesis 1:20,21,24,30.

20,21: And God went on to say: "Let the waters swarm forth a swarm of living souls and let flying creatures fly over the earth upon the face of the expanse of the heavens." And God proceeded to create the great sea monsters and every living soul that moves about, which the waters swarmed forth according to their kinds, and every winged creature according to it's kind. And God got to see that it was good. 24: And God went on to say: "Let the earth put forth living souls according to their kinds, domestic animal and moving animal and wild beast of the earth according to it's kind and it came to be so. 30: And to every wild beast of the earth and to every flying creature of the heavens ant to everything moving upon the earth in which there is life as a soul I have given all green vegetation for food." And it came to be so.

There are more you could look at but those are certainly plain enough.

As for whether our pets will be with us after we die, that is a deeper and less obvious truth and I wont get into that here;-)

I do kill bugs when they come into my home unless I can remove them without danger of being bit or stung, and I do eat meat and wear leather. Sometime after the flood of Noah's day God allowed the eating of meat and gave directions for the proper slaughtering of animals and the preparing of their flesh to eat and store. He gave Adam and Eve skins to wear after they sinned and became ashamed of their nakedness (Genesis 3:21). The conclusion could certainly be drawn that if we were perfect as God intended that we would not eat meat or wear skins but we are not and He has made allowances for our imperfection. I personally do not believe that extends to killing for sport of any kind.

solosater

Thats and not ant in verse 30 but indeed the ant is a soul as well;-)

sheftali52

Interesting observations about bugs and other critters. Sheftali grew up in Hawaii and dealt with many little critters. Sometimes a gecko would be crawling on the ceiling and drop on me in bed--scared the living daylights out of me! But, I wouldn't hurt the gecko, just move it to a safe place. Now roaches, flies, mosquitoes, and wild rats are a different thing. Sheftali would not hesitate one nanosecond to exterminate those critters. Once, several years ago, Sheftali was visiting her sister in Hawaii, and her sister's house backs up to a canal. Well, some of the hugest (humongest? +10) rats had temporarily invaded sister's house from the canal. I heard one hit the floor in the bedroom, and I jumped out of bed. It scurried into the darkness. I sat in the living room, petrified, and two more scurried up the wall chasing one another. Sheftali did not sleep at all that night. Thankfully, the rats were trapped, their avenues into the house were discovered and remedied, and all was well again. Roaches? OMG--no matter how clean the house, they were a part of life most of the time. Yes, I know--yuck!!!!! Still, we tried our best not to invite the critters' attention by being immaculate in the kitchen.

Robindcr8l

I don't kill most bugs, and, in fact as a child I used to feed crumbs to the ants on our driveway and watch the industrious little critters carry away a morsel that was twice their own size. I'm sure my mother would not have appreciated me feeding the ants had she known.

Flies and mosquitos I will kill. I hate flies anywhere near my food, because I know darn well they just landed on a pile of dog poop out in the yard before propping themselves on my hors d'eurves. (10 pts if I spelled that right, 0 pts if I didn't). Mice, too must die if they are in my house. Luckily, my cats tend to take care of that issue, but on the other hand, I think the cats are sometimes the ones bringing them in. I just wish they'd make sure their presents for me were actually DEAD before bringing them in the house. The live ones are upsetting.

I once lived in an apartment that was infested with squirrels, so I can relate to sheftali's rat horror story. I had almost the same experience with squirrels in the middle of the night. I first heard them in the walls, then realized they were in the KITCHEN when I heard a plant fall off of my kitchen table!!! It was like 3 in the morning. I was terrified to even leave my bedroom. I waited until 6am when my neighbor across the lot left for work. I called out to him from my bedroom window and he came around and rescued me, but by then they were long gone. I moved out the next day! They are rats with bushy tails and I couldn't live with them in the house!

sheftali52

Oh Robin--I had to laugh at you calling squirrels bushy tailed rats--that's how we refer to them, too. They are only cute if they're outside, in someone else's yard. Those critters have destroyed so much stuff in my yard, aggravated my dogs no end, and decimated my non-squirrel-proof birdfeeders' food supply. I like ants, too, and will only disturb them if they are in my house.

marius

What great stories, well ... to HEAR, perhaps not to live through. As others have said here, I too wear leather, eat meat and try to avoid killing anything needlessly. However ... there are days. This is not a rat or squirrel story. This is ants.

In the summer of 1993 there was torrential flooding in the Missouri River. It was a "500 year flood" and some businesses in the floodplain closed for good that year. I lived at higher elevations, but the ground was so saturated with water that each day when the rains let up, you could hear the water "popping" in the earth, trying to find somewhere to "run off."

One night I turned on the light in the bedroom and there were lines and lines of ants all over the top of the bed, up and down the bed posts, across the floor and up and down the walls too. The rains had driven them from their underground haunts and they seemed utterly confused and lost.

I sprayed mercilessly, but there were too many of them and I did not want to sleep with dead ant bodies everywhere, not to mention the smell of insecticide. The guest room was fine, so I slept there. THEN ... the next morning I went to shower.

The shower was located adjacent to the "ant bedroom" and lo and behold, there was such a line of ants, and they were so confused that they had crawled to the top of the shower door frame and they were climbing down each other's bodies, to form a pear-sized ball of ants. This ball was suspended about twelve inches from the center of the shower's door frame. It was an Edgar Allen Poe moment. Think I found dead ant bodies for the next six months.

marius

I join others here in an affection for ants so it was most upsetting to have to spray. I tried to spray only enough to encourage them to move to the attic, and many seemed willing to move ... but there were just so many ... we are talking thousands! And, no matter how much and how often I cleaned, it truly was months before I stopped finding tiny ant bodies.

And yes, there was a "moment of silence" ceremony for the little fellows. : (

Login

... and Noah must have gathered into the Ark at least two of these critters, to save them from the flood ... doh!

marius

LOL, Login!

Solosater - thanks much for the verses about souls in animals!
Appreciate it!!! Will let you know what neighbor says. : )

Dragon

Wow, you are a gentle soul marius. I have absolutely no affection for ants whatsoever and will be merciless with them when finding them in the house. Any moment of silence after the death of ants in my place is only because I got tired of yelling 'Die you evil pestulence- DIE!'
The last place I lived was a basement suite with a very old window that didn't seal properly. The ants had a nest in the ground against the foundation of the house directly below this window (which was the bedroom window and the only one in the apartment that opened). I came home one day while they were swarming and the entire sidewalk was absolutley crawling with them. It looked like something out of Indiana Jones or something. That was one of my few times when I've happily killed the outdoor bugs. I ruthlessly sprayed every ant I could see with Raid Ant and Spider killer. I didn't have ants in the house for several months after that.

solosater

I believe I've mentioned that I live in a studio apartment attached to my mother's home. We built it about ten twelve years ago when I moved home from Vermont.

For the first couple of years, for a day in the spring and a day in the fall, I had a trail of ants moving from the front yard to the back yard and vice versa. They didn't deviate from the trail and didn't go looking for sugar or crumbs and I assumed from the almost military precision of their line that they were just doing what they always had and left them alone.

I have French windows in the front of my apartment which faces the back yard and a window directly opposite over my kitchen sink which faces the front of the property through my back yard into my mother's front yard. We still haven't got the place perfectly sealed but the ants stopped on their own after that, I assume they now go around or over but I still don't know why they go at all.

solosater

Please feel free to skip this, it’s about 5,100+ words long and eight pages on my word processor so I’ll understand if you want to move onto the next post;-)

This is the story of my surgery and all the fun surrounding it. I should say too, that I know many of you have had to undergo surgery at some point or another and I in no was own the market on such tales but I wanted to share mine. I’d love to here your tales as well. Enjoy!

Cystic Hiccups!

Not for the faint of heart!!!

(No really, there’s both blood and gore!)

You’ve been warned!

A couple of years ago I was talking on the phone to my best friend’s daughter about a year after her mother, my best friend, had died suddenly of a brain tumor. We were not talking about any one thing but just everything, how she was doing in school and how she was paying the bills and the new recipe she was working on for her newest client (she trained to be a chef and worked for a few families as a personal chef). We were just chatting. Something was said that got us both laughing and we couldn’t stop. We where caught in a giggle loop of sorts. I laughed and giggled until I got the hiccups and then kept right on laughing about the hiccups too.

I ended the call when the hiccups got to be too close together for any sort of conversation and went about getting rid of them. I’m not sure what did it; usually it’s holding my breath and that may have been it. I did get rid of them but I’d swallowed quite a bit of air during my hiccupping giggle fit and couldn’t get rid of it. I tried drinking soda. I tried stretching and bouncing. I tried over the counter gas remedies and even baking soda (eew!). Nothing worked and three days later I was in quite a bit of pain and while I was sure I was just gassy my doctor’s office said if I was in that much pain I should go to the ER.

So, after some further persuasion by a friend who said she didn’t think it was gas but more likely something to do with my girl bits, I went to the ER if only to prove them wrong!

I have been VIOLATED!

A rather nice young man named Fred (names changed to protect the innocent;-) proceeded to give me the most thorough examination I had ever had! Oh yes, I was probed like an alien abductee. I think Fred may have had some experience with that sort of thing but it was all new to me. After that bit of fun they took blood and urine samples and gave me a CT scan all with me telling them I was sure it was gas.

It wasn’t gas!

I had four cysts the size of rather large oranges growing on my ovaries. Well crap. It was definitely not gas and no amount of waiting for it to pass was going to do the job. They admitted me for the night for more tests and until my gynecologist could be brought in to consult and whatnot, I was already high as a kite from the morphine by that time so I’m not real sure how it all went down.

The nurse came into the room and told me I was being sent for an ultrasound and they needed to use a catheter to fill my bladder for the clearest pictures, I figured it couldn’t be that bad but asked why I couldn’t just drink a bunch of water. That’s when the nurse rather coolly told me they might be doing surgery the next day and so I couldn’t eat or drink anything. I was starting a job early the next day for a client who would cancel her trip if I couldn’t sit with her dog and I couldn’t let that happen as she had actually had minor surgery just so she could go. I didn’t want to fight with the nurse, she was obviously not a terribly caring person and, as I understood I would have to see my doctor before I would be released anyway, I got ready for my Foley. I’d started bleeding sometime during the day, I was three weeks into my cycle so that was normal but they wanted to be sure so the ultrasound and so the Foley. The bleeding didn’t bother the nurse at all but I convinced her to let me shower first. That’s just nicer.

Did you know they give you razors in the hospital?

NEVER SHAVE WITH A HOSPITAL RAZOR! I don’t care if it is brand new it is the devil of all razors and you will likely get hurt! But, it was winter and I’d not seen a bathing suit in months so I thought, Fred’s already been all up in my bidness but he wasn’t looking and women gossip so I’d better shave. And I did. I took off chunks of skin! I was a mess and now of course I looked foolish and not very talented with a razor too.

So I was ready as I’d ever be for the Foley. It took three nurses five tries but they finally got it in and I can tell you it was very much less than pleasant. I gasped in pain and I kid you not the nurse looked up at me and said, “That didn’t hurt!” I gave her my nastiest look and said, “Have you ever had a Foley?” she hadn’t so I said, “Then you can shut up!”

Oh, I can take quite a bit of pain so when I’m not able to handle it I can get a little short with anyone but when a nurse is so cold and wrong I cannot tolerate it! I called the nurse manager and told her I would require a different nurse for my stay. And I got one.

So I had my ultrasound and they brought me back to my room and I was kinda’ jazzed I guess, I couldn’t sleep, I could barely sit still. The morphine had done its job and I think I must have been quite relaxed as I was finally able to pass the gas, I was in more ways than one feeling no pain. The techs were in and out checking my vitals and giving my pain medication and I waited.

About six in the morning my gynecologist came in. She’s a very small Asian woman, very pretty, a little clinical but I think that is her way of putting her ladies at ease. I like her very much and was happy to see her.

She did yet another examination and said she wanted to do emergency surgery that afternoon. I explained about my client and she said as how someone else could do the job and I explained some more and she was quite adamant so I looked at her and said, “Did I get these over night?” I did not. So I said, “ Will they be here next week?” Likely so long as they didn’t rupture then I’d need emergency surgery. “How is emergency surgery different next week than it is this morning?” She agreed that it could wait but wanted me in two days later for a follow up exam and to do some more blood work. I promised I would go and she signed my release papers.

I had called my boss and told her what was going on and we agreed that if I had to go in for surgery that she would personally fill in for me and I made arrangements to send her my notes on the job.

I called my client and told her what was going on and that if one of the cysts did rupture and I needed surgery that the boss would come and do the job herself. She was not completely comfortable with that but understood it was the best we could do and was very appreciative and quite surprised that I had put her first. I was sure she would be a client for life.

So I went home and got ready and went to work. All was fine, the pain was gone (I believe the gas was causing the pain by pressuring the cysts or just by filling me to full), nothing burst and my next exam was much the same as the last but my doctor was a little nervous - I had cancer markers in my blood work. She referred me to a gynecological oncologist and said that she would feel better if he looked at me before we proceeded. So I called him and made and appointment.

This man looked just like Santa Claus but without the beard. My mother knew him, he’d been my stepfather’s mother, Laura’s doctor as well and they were very pleased I’d be seeing him. He took my mother and I back into his office to talk and we caught him up on Laura’s health as well and after looking over my blood work and explaining all the possibilities he called his nurse in and I followed her to an exam room and got into a gown. He knocked on the door and asked if I minded if my mother came in. That was fine, I’d need her to tell me what had gone on anyway. He turned to me, leaned down, picked me up and put me on the table. Santa lifted my not unsubstantial weight and all five feet and eleven inches of me onto the exam table. I was completely put at ease. If the man could pick me up I was sure he could take care of me. And he did.

The surgery was scheduled and I was given my instructions we were off to wait.

I had to get cleared for surgery by my PCP and they wanted to do an EKG and some other tests but it was all good so I was ready and we were scheduled and my Gynecologist was going to assist and she really respected him and I was in good hands and he thought she was one of the best in the area and I was quite ready to do it. And we did.

I had to do a liquid diet for three days prior to the surgery and take laxatives and fast for the last day and not have even water for the last twelve hours before the surgery. I had to remove some hair before as well but I got cute and decided the last thing I wanted to deal with while I was recovering was hair growing in and the itching and the rash and all so I waxed instead.

There weren’t any problems with the waxing and in fact I was glad I’d done it but I will tell you this. If you are going to wax hair that you generally do not wax and you are going into surgery use a magic marker and indicate your hairline. I now have a heart shaped bush because my surgeon couldn’t tell were my hairline was and cut into it. Yes, it is very common to do a “bikini” cut for this type of surgery but as there was the possibility of cancer he wanted to have all the room he could to work so he cut me lengthwise instead of across. It’s not pretty but no one sees it so who cares? I like my zipper actually, I think it’s kinda’ cool. Also, when they cut across, they cut the muscle whereas when they cut lengthwise they cut connective tissue that heals much easier and much faster. I do like to say I’m spit from my belly button to my tailbone.

I’m getting ahead of myself. So we go to the hospital and check in and all and they take my back for prep and then I get to say goodbye to my mother and my stepfather and a family friend who came along for moral support.

Have I mentioned I’ve never even had stitches before? Nope. Never broken a bone either. Only that last time ever being admitted to a hospital and here I am going into a surgery were they may very well take all my girl bits out and I may have cancer that may have spread not just to the uterus and ovaries but possibly to my other organs as well. I have to say while I think I handled it pretty well It was kinda’ scary but a little exciting too to be there for me. I know that’s crazy but my brother was terribly accident prone, and my mother had had three spinal surgeries before I was 16. I spent a good lot of time visiting hospitals but never had been in one for me. So I was a little excited but they’d started the anesthesia and soon I was out.

I’d heard a friend’s story about when she had to have a similar surgery only hers was an emergency surgery and the surgeon messed up and she ended up back in surgery three times in the next month and in the end they had to take everything to save her life. So she wakes up without her uterus and ovaries and they’d put her on the maternity ward. I thought that would kill me and I’d told the doctors when I first was signing all the paperwork and all weeks before the actual surgery that if I woke up on the maternity ward and I was not ever going to be able to have kids I would sue. I was not kidding and I made it quite clear I was fine with signing all the releases for them to take out what needed to go and I told them I would not give them any grief over it but do not put me in with all those women and newborns and families if I don’t get to have my own.

So when I woke in a private room with a VCR attached to the TV I knew I had all my parts; the nurse who was in the room with me confirmed it. Later my doctor came in and told me all the details. They had to remove part of one ovary (to this day I’m not sure which) and my appendix too. I had severe endometriosis, she said one of the worst cases she’d ever seen, and that accounted for the cancer markers. Who knew endometriosis looks like cancer in the blood work? They’d cleaned that up, the four cysts were on their way to pathology for testing and I was just required to rest and heal. And I did.

The surgery had taken twice as long as expected so I wasn’t able to get up that night but I was up walking early the next morning. I was given IV fluids but wasn’t given any food at all until the next morning. (I was SO hungry! I tried to bribe my mom into getting me a Happy Meal and smuggling it in, she was no help.) When they brought my first meal it was hot tea, which I love and clear chicken broth, which did not amuse me! I’d thought since I’d fasted before and everything was all good now they’d let me EAT! Nope. I finally got Jell-O that evening which at least had solidity to it and a kind of texture and it wasn’t lime Jell-O so I was appeased. The next morning, Day Six after the fast began, they let me have real food; I can’t remember what it was I just remember that about two bites in I’d had enough. I only picked at food for the next two weeks.

I was released from the hospital five days after the surgery and went to my parents place so my mom could more easily take care of me. I live in an apartment attached to her home but I was of course in need of quite a lot of help for a while so they set me up in the office.

The first night home I sweated through my sheets. I was not capable of remaking the bed so I got up and sat in the recliner when I woke up from the icy cold sheets and when my mother got up in the morning she changed the bed. I had hot flashes during the days and sweated through my sheets every night. I’d heard from a couple of different friends that when they even so much a touch your ovaries your hormones can get way out of whack so I just figure it was that and didn’t worry over much.

I was NOT having hot flashes!

I was having a severe infection. Two weeks after the surgery my mother took me in to have the staples removed. I had to sit outside of the office in the sun because I was so cold the air conditioning was making my body hurt. When the doctor sprayed something on my belly to loosen the Steri-Strip I thought I’d kill him but really didn’t have the energy to do more than shake and shiver. He finished pulling the staples and removing the tape and all and looked at me in the face, then looked a little closer, then pulled my eyelid down and with his own eyes very wide said, “You’ve got an infection!” And I did.

He sent me to a lab to have some blood work done and we went but by that night I think I’d given myself permission to feel bad and decided I had to go to the ER. They did a CT; I had a huge abscess, my entire belly was abscessed. They admitted me to the hospital and started antibiotics and scheduled me to have a drain put in to remove the fluids in the abscess. They all looked a bit scared. I was too tired to care much.

Did I mention blood and gore? I was not just kidding!

When I got into my room and had settled in I went to the restroom. I thought I had passed gas but when I got up and turned to flush the toilet it was full of blood. I went out to the nurse’s station and told the woman there that I was passing blood. She asked if I might have started my period and I told her no, it was from the other end and that it was bright red and not at all like menstrual blood. She looked a little skeptical but got up and looked. She looked at me and was as white as I imagine I was at that point. She put a “hat” in the toilet to catch anything else I might pass and called the doctor. I filled the “hat” two times but then stopped bleeding as far as we could tell.

Just so you understand, I will not take blood in any form. My blood count was down to 6, my normal blood count is 14 so I had lost more than half of my blood volume and they were talking about starting me on blood and about how I was going to bleed out if they didn’t. I told them not to bother. The doctor came into my room and sat next to me. He was not my doctor but the on-call