Thursday, February 18, 2016

I have an ovarian tumor

    That moment when you're soooo tired, you feel like you're gonna melt into a pool of slush on the floor...
    I thought I was doing better, until my two oldest daughters, Ruby and Sky, got super upset with each other. Then my two youngest, Trey and Indy started battling each other--Spartacus-style. At least they get my mind off of things....
    Today a friend of mine from the medical industry helped me looked at the results from my ER visit. 
    "I think these comments from the doctor speak volumes," she said. 
    She'd referred to his his final comments at the bottom of the print-out: "Highly concerning mass." "Patient to seek immediate assistance from gynecologist."
    Do you get gynos?  Who would even want to be one? That would flip my krap--ya know, being around naked people especially when they are chicks, or worse WHEN they're pregnant... I don't know. More power to them, but I think seeing naked people all day is gross.
    So I'm seeing a gyno tomorrow. I looked him up online. I guess he's been interviewed on TV and krap. But that doesn't mean anything. I mean, hell, I'VE been interviewed on TV. They'll let anyone on TV these days ;) (HERE is my 5 mins. of fame.) My brother says everyone gets fifteen minutes of fame in their lifetime--I guess I finally used up five of mine.  
     Anyway, this gyno was interviewed on TV--and he got way more than fifteen minutes! It was a very Dr.-Phil-looking set. Good thing the gyno didn't appear to be the one telling HIS problems--about how he wished he was a podiatrist or something. What's worse, feet or chick parts? I seriously don't know. 
    So since my appointment isn't until tomorrow, I've been practically dying from anxiousness. But I did learn a few important things today after talking with my medical friend and really reading through my report. I don't have a cyst. I was hurting to death on Sunday because a cyst burst. Thing thing on my ovary that's still there--this orange-sized thing, well, it's solid. And instead of it growing ON my ovary, it's inside of it. My ovary has now transformed into a zombie-thing, on steroids. 
    Can I just say I'm scared? This means surgery for sure. But...on the bright side, I needed a vacation?
     Dear God, 
    When I prayed for a break, I had something else in mind. Can my next vaca please be for fun? Oh, and I'd like for you to save my chick parts. But if you can't, that's cool. I just don't wanna feel like less of a woman. Is getting an ovary removed, like getting a ball removed if you're a dude? If that's true, what would a hysterectomy be like for a guy? Oh krap.... But maybe getting a hysterectomy means I can finally have an attitude--with a hormone-related excuse--my husband would think I'm EXTRA special if that happens to him. BAM! What. A. Deal.

                                                                         A droopy-tired, Elisa