The Ticking Time Bomb

On January 12th, a few days after setting up a date for a hysterectomy, my ticking time bomb went off causing acute pain in my lower left abdomen. After spending all afternoon at the emergency room, I was told to move up my Feb. 20th surgery date. The ovarian cyst and fibroid tumor were not going to wait. I expected this problem to go away, so I could take a planned trip to Florida the end of January. Each day the pain, inability to eat and nausea continued as I realized, it was time to listen to my body and make arrangements to move up the operation. On the phone with the nurse, I was close to begging her to fit me into the doctor's soonest opening. What relief I felt when she called to say January 23rd was the day. That meant only four more days of pain.

As we were ushered through the 'No Admittance' Surgery doors, a purple gown, Bear paws socks, and such were supplied. I was greeted by the friendly staff that would participate in this adventure. All too soon they were wheeling me into the sterile room, where major things take place while we are under anesthesia. How happy it felt to know there would soon be an end to my nightmare. Awakening in the Recovery Room several hours later, I was taken to my room to begin the healing process. The doctor informed us that he was surprised to find a cantaloupe size ovarian cyst bright red in color. Fearful of potential cancer great caution was taken which resulted in a ten inch incision. It goes from Atlanta to Arizona, is an easy way to explain its length. Preliminary lab reports showed everything looked good. Stanford University would conduct more tests on the specimen.

I have trouble with some medications and this time was no different. Although the nurses were helpful, all too soon my inability to keep any food down forced me to stop the meds. I informed the doctor on my third day, no more. Gradually I was able to eat and have all attachments removed. Soon I was able to walk unfettered and felt much better. Four days can seem forever at a hospital, so tears came easily in the wheelchair when the nurse pushed me through the exit doors. As we headed home, how grateful I was to be on the road to recovery.