Update on me and the saga that is my health

Okay, so as a lot of my friends and family know, I was scheduled to have a partial hysterectomy done on Tuesday, Jan. 26th.  After a long, fun-filled year of my girly parts going haywire and partying it up in my uterus, my doctor had done a whole bunch of fun tests like pap smears and a colposcopy and the like, and ultimately found out that I had cervical dysplasia, which is a precancerous condition that leads to cervical cancer.  I had several options, and looking at my family history, I opted for a partial hysterectomy. 

Well, I get a phone call around 4 p.m. the night before my surgery from my doctor.  Who starts out with "I'm thinking we shouldn't do the hysterectomy."

And I'm all "what'chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?"

And the doctor goes on to explain that he thinks a cone biopsy is the way to go.  Now, when we were first discussing my options - back in August - we discussed the cone biopsy.  And I chose the partial hysterectomy, due to the fact that:

1 - my husband has had a vasectomy, we're so done having kids

2 - my girly parts have been driving me crazy since puberty

3 - my mom and both grandmothers had breast cancer

4 - family history of many types of cancer

5 - did I mention that we're SO done having kids?

So yeah, back in AUGUST, I decided on the partial hysterectomy.  And here's my doctor, less than fourteen hours before my scheduled surgery, a surgery that was scheduled in AUGUST, telling me he's having doubts about doing a partial hysterectomy on a 32 year old.  Because he doesn't want me "having regrets".

What was that?  Regrets?  Okay, okay ... regrets ... like not having painful, labor like cramps every month?  Like having a period that lasted (no joke) for seven weeks? 

Yeah, I'm SO going to REGRET taking out the torture device organ that causes THAT to happen.

So I told him, "I'm going to have to completely ignore you, you moron discuss this with my husband, we'll tell you where to stick it  our decision in the morning, when we see you."

So I talk to my husband about all this, and he's like "Is the man on crack?"

Yeah, my thoughts exactly.

The next morning, at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m., we get up and get ready to go.  We get to the hospital, sign in, and the nurse is like "So you're down here for a partial hysterectomy, but we got this weird call from the doctor last night that you're having a cone biopsy instead?"

To which I reply, "that's what he thinks I told him we'll discuss it this morning."

We go through all the paperwork and I'm sitting there with my husband, in my lovely hospital gown, my slipper socks and a paper hat (so attractive!) and in walks my doctor.  "I thought we were go with the cone biopsy?"

"Um, no you fucktard, we said I'd just ignore you  we'd discuss it in the morning."

So we argued back and forth, and he basically said "you're having the biopsy" - code for "I'm an idiot who gave you an option that you didn't have!  Your insurance won't cover the cost, so I'm acting all concerned for your welfare, when actually, I just want to get paid!"

Yeah.

So here I sit, proud owner of a uterus that doesn't work, that is taking it's revenge on me slowly ...

And I will probably have to have a partial hysterectomy ANYWAY.

*face palm*

Gotta love our medical system, huh?  Isn't it GREAT?!

 

Thanks to Twitarded for the pic - I felt it was appropriate.

And the saga that is my health continues - stay tuned for the next exciting chapter!