New Year, All Clear

January chores are a lot more fun when you have a willing helper.


December was rough but ended on a good note.

You probably already know that I have a faulty BRCA gene, and that family members with this faulty gene have died quite young with various cancers.  Enter scene: prophylactic surgeries.  I had my mastectomy in 2010, and knew the oophorectomy was looming in the next few years.

Well, ever since last summer, my screening labs (which are very unreliable but the only potential way to catch ovarian cancer early) have been on a roller coaster.  By November, my gynecological oncologist (say that five times fast) and I were done with the "wait and see" approach.  It was most likely a false alarm, but with my risk profile, it was time to take action.

We scheduled my oophorectomy/salpingectomy/hysterectomy for the first day of Christmas Break, so we could combine Rusty's holidays with his sick leave and he could stay home for the first two weeks of my eight week recovery.  The plan was to stay in the hospital one night, and then have a nice, quiet Christmas at home.  And that's preeeeettttyyy much what happened...eventually.

The surgery ended up being much more extensive than planned- I got a nice big vertical abdominal incision and a bruise the size of a dinner plate instead of the expected laparoscopic scars.  I stayed in the hospital for four days and apparently had a rare reaction to the narcotics--I now know what a major depressive episode/panic attack feels like and I never, ever, EVER want to experience that again.  Who knew that the same med that gives everyone else a high would give me the exact opposite?  No worries, I'm perfectly happy to just tough it out with ibuprofen next time.  That was awful.  It didn't help that the hospital care was, frankly, shoddy.

I came home Christmas Eve/Nate's birthday, and the change of scene helped a lot.  As the meds worked their way out of my system over the next few days, I overcame my irrational fear of my bedroom (reminded me of the hospital room, apparently) and I gradually realized that this was a temporary state due to the narcotics, not a part of surgical menopause.  Phew!!

A week later we got confirmation from the labs that the preliminary diagnosis was indeed correct:  all of that scary stuff they cut out was endometriosis with absolutely no trace of cancer.  🎉🎉🎉

Now, three weeks later, I'm feeling better every day, off all pain meds, and already trying to over-do things...and looking forward to a much more normal future.  Well, I don't get to take estrogen so it won't be totally normal, but certainly do-able.  And probably cancer-free!  This year I plan to gradually regain strength and health, and this coming decade I plan to celebrate every year I get another year older and remain cancer-free.  Seriously, I'm looking forward to getting old!  It's exciting!  I love my gray hairs.  🤓

Sorry for the whiny/scary post, but I get accused of not keeping people informed, so...there you go!

Happy New Year, everybody!!