Ok, warning, this update has pretty much nothing to do with yarn. It's a general life and health update and, folks, it's gonna get gross. Not "here are photos" gross, but definitely "enthusiasic gyno" gross. Ok. You've been warned
A General Update :)
LIFE UPDATES
Things have been weird here at The Blue Brick. I've had some ongoing health problems and we aren't quite out of the woods yet. In short, last September a routine blood test had my doc calling and telling me to get to emerge for a blood transfusion and iron infusions. My iron was so low it was undetectable (abnormal periods and inadequate nutrition).
It explained a lot. A lot of things that I had written off to stress and exhaustion. I was tired all the time (duh), losing lots of hair, pale and tired with no appetite and, alarmingly, had begun to crave things that weren't food. Sleep was elusive, I had wicked restless leg syndrome and difficulty focusing. I've been getting iron by IV and supplements for a few months now, and things are starting to normal out, but abnormal bleeding at the, er, other end, has made it hard to get caught up. I discovered I was a pain in the ass as a patient, insisting I was fine and, thinking about the story of the little Dutch boy and the dike I even wryly suggested that we "get Tito to stick a finger in it". Not my finest moment.
GROSS WARNING. GROSS THINGS ARE COMING.
So first of all, I was prepared for many things from the gyno, but unbridled enthusiasm and ad hoc surgery were not among them.
We have a discussion about my options and she suggests a biopsy to rule out anything more serious (and I’ll do your pap while I’ve got you open haha) just to make sure nothing else is wrong. She’s a woman who loves her job.
She gets me in the stirrups and pulls out a medieval metal speculum (trust me, she says, SO MUCH BETTER than plastic!!). This thing belongs in a museum. It’s been in vaginas other than mine. And no, she didn’t even warm up the gel.
She opens me up, grins from ear to ear and exclaims “Wowza! Did you know you have a MASSIVE fibroid pushing out of your cervix? Has anyone looked in here lately?” As though I was a Tupperware container holding takeaway of indeterminate age instead of a living, breathing, ball of anxiety. If she could have yelled “BINGO” she would have. She exclaims “you ALWAYS gotta look in the vagina, you never know WHAT you’ll find!”. (Side note, if I ever decided to start a band “Thrift Shop Vagina” is obv. gonna be the name.
She goes on to grab forceps and a knife and cheerfully says “You might need to go down to surgery but lets see if I can get this sucker!”. She begins rummaging around while saying things like “You’re gonna wanna see this after” and “holy smokes it’s big” and “C’mere bugger”.
It’s a vagina. not a cereal box. No one should be rummaging around in there like they’re searching for the voltron ring at the bottom. And words like “surprise!” should never be attached to surgery.
Just when I’m ready to scream she goes “got it!” and holds up this horrible bloody lump. She encourages me to take pictures to “show the hubs” if I want. She says unsettling things like “that was so satisfying!” and “Ok lets do the biopsy! I’m gonna get so many goodies outta you today!”
So here I am, cranked open with her entire hand in there, while she’s performing basically day surgery with no anaesthetic and enthusiastic exclamations are coming from between my legs for all the wrong reasons. It turns out getting a biopsy is like precisely like coring an apple.
Finally, with blood all over the exam table, I get the speculum out. I sat up and started laughing because she was laughing and giving off vibes of triumph and jubilance but that was not at all my vibe and honestly it was like a Seinfeld episode so then I just started sobbing. Which is too bad because she was trying to tell me a story about another, presumably equally remarkable fibroid, but when she saw my face she was all “I’ll just let you change then…”
My vagina hurt, and my uterus was cramping like a beast. I stand up, and blood and tissue commence coming out and plopping loudly and obscenely onto the floor. She gives me a pad, says “Be right back, the girls have GOT to see this” and goes to PARADE IT AROUND THE CLINIC. I am 99% certain she hung it on her tree as a conversation piece.
Still exclaiming about “how satisfying that was” she cheerfully congratulated me on “delivering a fibroid”.
Post Script - Sorry for the TMI but I hope it made you laugh. I went in later to get an IUD to control the excessive bleeding which has yet to take effect. The doctor who put it in actually walked in and said “Hey! You're the woman with the fibroid!”. File under “Things I do not want to be known for”.
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What she did was so very very wrong. She should have first done an ultrasound & advised you of what needed doing. Local anesthetic (barest minimum) or general. She behaved extremely unprofessionally & should be reported. Where was your privacy?!? Inserting an IUD also should be done with at least local anesthetic! What a prized cow she is. Do not let thus slide
I hope you feel better promptly xx
Ok, so I’m very sorry for your gyno adventures, but I did in fact laugh and can totally sympathize.
Dark humor is a very valuable survival skill.
Thanks for sharing and I hope recovery progresses quickly!
Hugs, 22 years ago the day after Mother’s day, I had a hysterectomy because I had a fibroid the size of your head with 27 other little fibroids. I hope you feel better soon.