My gardening nemisis

I love gardening.  I love making pretty things grow.  I HATE however, not having a finished yard at the moment.  We have been working hard on the front yard, getting in the stones and sprinklers. Well, someone else worked hard on putting those things in, but you know... 

Our lot had apparently a lot of this weed going on. It's got a nasty four-sided double horn. Well, you take a look.  I am making this picture extra large so you can see the vastness of this devil thorn.  It's actually called Goat's Head, but I like Devil's Spawn better.  These two were just barely picked from the vine.

This is a size comparison.  This is a 9mo binky that I actually found in the back yard today.  In the picture above those are actually bigger.

It is a low growing ground cover that barbs itself into the dirt.  When you try to dig it out you must be so careful not to drop the 10's of 1000's of stickers there are out there.  Then they get dry and break apart making even more stickers.

 Did I mention that it is EVERYWHERE???

  BECAUSE IT IS!!

Once you start trying so very carefully pulling these up they get stuck in the bottom of your shoes. May I present Exhibits A & B.



The specks of dirt in between the stickers?  Those are stickers that have broken off leaving behind a barb in the bottom of your shoe. I had several of those in my yellow shoes that I had to pull out with tweezers because they were poking through to my foot.  Jason's Nike's food bed air pockets have also been punctured.  They also find there way onto my carpet no matter how hard you try to get them all off and into the garbage before they get in the house, but I'll tell you what.  That's why they are the Devil's spawn- they are sneaking in when you least expect it!  I need 1000 people to come over to my yard, wear thick soled rubber shoes and we'll pick them up that way.

 Or we can just cement the whole yard over and pretend we live in New York City where everything is concrete.  We would just have to use planters.

Wherein I discuss the fate of my baby maker

Don't worry- I won't  post pictures... although I have one.

I've had over 10 of them. Most of them abdominal.  I'm like the Grand Poobah of surgery, the gold standard of what's to happen before, during, and after surgery.  This one was supposed to be particularly easy too, since they didn't even have to cut me open.  They could do this Hysterectomy vaginally.  Which is basically the easiest thing, right?  No scar pain, no wounds to heal.  Just a sore inner core that will ache for a while.  Which is fine, I'm used to the aching.  That's why they took it out.

Ahem...  Let's start over.

I am infertile.  It's no secret.  Well, lets say mostly infertile.  Definitely not sterile, but not Fertile Mertyle.  (Cue super cute pictures of my two successful attempts in the side bar -------->)

Before my pregnancy with Brendan, around 2001, I was diagnosed with endometriosis.  This was after already a year or so of being on fertility drugs and a cyst on my left ovary the size of a grapefruit (that was laparoscopically removed) from said fertility drugs.  I then underwent surgery to remove the endometriosis not too long after.  It was another year or so before I would get pregnant and everything was fine for a few years after.
It was in 2006 that I had another Laparoscopy which they removed a minimal amount of endometriosis after more pain and discomfort.  At that time we were unsuccessfully trying for another baby and they performed a Hysterosalpingogram while they were in there.

Fast forward to 2010 where I was treated for a then believed uterine infection. In 2011 when a recurrent pain turned out not to be another uterine infection the doctor suspected that the return of the endometriosis was upon us and that the previous was most likely not an infection either.  I think I just typed the worlds longest run on sentence. Are you with me?  Plus, I have a bladder that would leak every time I sneezed, coughed, ran, jumped, or just stand there.  So that was a definate fix.
So here were my options:

1. Live with the endometriosis and related pelvic pain since this is a disease that never goes away.  Deal with the fact that I never have a period due to inovulation which runs the risk of endometrial cancer, so I would be on monthly hormone treatments to treat all said B.S. 
2. Have a Hysterectomy.  AND fix my bladder while they were in there.

This was a big decision.  Bigger than big, this was huge.  Take away my baby maker?  Yes, it's true that Jason and I both decided two kids were enough work (getting them here) but what about the sentimental part of it?  This is the place that housed my growing fetuses, or feti- as it were.  We worked hard to get them here, and now I'm just going to throw it away after a laboratory pokes and prods it.  Although, I'll tell you what... it sure sounds nice to not have to worry about all of that hormone crap anymore. Dealing with problems stemming from before we even got married having the Depo Prevera shot.  It wasn't until later doctor's appointments trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with me that they told me this was the very drug they gave sex offenders in prison to ward off their sexual desires.  Something every newly wed husband want to hear! "Sorry, honey- I just don't want to even have you touch me. I don't care that it's our wedding night." And here I thought I was being strong in temptations before the wedding. HA! Jokes on me!  And the beauty of this shot was that it lasts for THREE MONTHS!  Now the joke was on Jason.

Heavy heartedly I took this matter to the Lord.  I was very confused on what to do for several months.  Although I wanted Him to just tell me what I should do, I knew that I had to decide for myself.  Stupid rule.  This world would be so much simpler if we could just get Him to tell us what to do. So I finally decided. I needed this freedom, I needed to have it done and over with. I was going to have it out. So I prayed, and I prayed and I prayed some more.  One night it came to me.  And with the biggest and loudest confirmation he told me everything was going to be okay.  He knew what I was going through and that everything would be okay.  He knew why I was doing it, and he comforted me in that decision.  I can not tell you how light my shoulders felt that night.  The weight of the world had been lifted.  Loving arms surrounded me, both spiritually and literally.

Ahhhh... no more worries.  To be FREE mentally of fertility issues, menstrual issues,  pain, hormones, worry, pain and more pain and more worry.  I can not tell you the freedom I feel from that mental prison! I have not had one regret since it's been done. Not.One.   This feeling is going to be almost as good as not peeing my pants ever again, and never having a period again.  Oh wait- I never had any periods to begin with.

Waking from the dead

Last night I took the last handful of drugs in a mixed cocktail the doctors gave me.  I took a picture to commemorate my celebration.  I felt like my Grandma Davis taking all these pills.  I sure miss my Grandma.

For the last two and a half weeks I have been on my couch trying to recall those sun and wonderful days of paradise... and why I decided to go ahead and have surgery three days after I got home.

I had a hysterectomy three weeks ago.  I'm writing about it on a different post.  For now I am celebrating my release from the hell that has gone on afterward.

Looking back you always have 20/20 vision.  Usually in a laparoscopic surgery they fill your abdomen with gas like a balloon so that they can maneuver the instruments and cameras around freely while they operate.  I have had a handful of these type of surgeries and every time afterwards your muscles get sore from absorbing whatever gas is left over from that surgery.  The doctors usually try to push it all out, but inevitably they don't get it all out. I was lucky enough to have this surgery vaginally so they didn't have to open me up.  The days after my surgery I was feeling achy.  I chalked it up to the surgery, thinking that they may have had to use the gas.  After a visit with my Visiting Teachers, one of whom is a operating room nurse, she said that they don't use the gas during my particular procedure.  It should have clicked then- but it didn't.  A few more days go by, and my achiness gets worse, and things start to go downhill.  I thought I was getting the flu.  I was achy everywhere.  I had nausea, cold sweats, dizziness.  I was freezing so bad that I turned the air conditioning way down and put on sweats, wool socks and I was thisclose to getting out a winter hat.  I was also bleeding heavier than I was previously.  I knew that something was wrong. In the move, however, I could not find my thermometer.  The hospital instructions were that I didn't need to call the doctor if my fever was below 100.4.  I didn't feel that hot, but then again I thought I was freezing to death.  I went and found a first aid kit that had one of those rinky dink forehead tape readers and I stuck it to my head for Jason to read.  It was all lit up to the 100.6 mark.  That was good enough for me. I called my doctor and he said that I should go into the ER.  He said he thought I might have small infection somewhere and to not worry, but go and see what they could do.

10:30 pm we drive to the ER.  Do you want to get in really fast where there are a lot of people in the lobby?  Tell them you just had surgery and that you feel like crap. A few tears may have been shed in the process.  The receptionist got on her pager and talked to someone saying "I've got a triage for you."  They took me right back.  I had a fever of 102.7*.  They put in my IV right in the crook of my elbow, on the right arm (The worst place ever!) and took some blood samples.  They also did a urine test.  Everything came up like they thought.  White blood count elevated, kidney/bladder infection negative.  I was going to have to go in for a CT scan.  But, before I could do this I had to drink a half gallon jug of Lemonade Crystal Light with a dye in it over the next two hours.  I could only drink 1/4 of it every 30 minutes.  It was disgusting.  Like diet lemonade, only worse- like a metally lemonade. So, around 2:30 am I got to finally go into the CT room.  The lady said she was going to inject another dye through my IV that was going to make me feel really hot, and like I'm peeing.  I got to feel what it was like to have menopause hot flashes, and a toddler bed wetting episode all at once.  I highly recommend it!  It was awesome!  They said it would be another 45 minutes for the radiologist to read the scan and talk to the doctor about it.  'Really??' I thought, 'Because at 2:30 in the morning there is a lot going on, and it sure takes a long time to look at a person's innards.'

The doctor came in rather quickly.  He told me that I had a hematoma and an abscess in my newly vacant pelvis the size of my dearly departed uterus.  They were going to admit me to the hospital and they would have to take me into the OR and have it drained.  I could be admitted to that hospital, or go to the one where my OB/GYN was so that he would be the one to be called in to do it.  We decided that we would go to the other hospital so that my own doctor could do the procedure.  I actually have Dr. Nielson's after hours number on my phone, so I gave that to the ER doctor to call him and tell him what they found. And that I would be over to the other hospital in a little while.

The two doctors had talked it over, and because I was bleeding more than usual they thought my body was draining the hematoma.

For the next several days I wanted to die.  I felt so horrible.  Any symptoms that I had before plus all the side effects of the drugs. My favorite one?  The metal taste in my mouth.  Everything tasted like metal.  Banana bread metal. Chocolate metal. They put me on two different drugs so potent that they are the ones that kill the giardia, and other bacteria.  The pharmacist told me to take a probiotic twice a day or I would get a yeast infection or C difficile–associated diarrhea.  I was taking pills every 2-3 hours.  I couldn't even take care of my own children. Jason had to work, and so my mom came to get the kids and Jason's parents came and took the kids until he got off work and would bring them home.

Luckily, my body did take care of the infection on it's own.  The infected hematoma drained all by itself and I wasn't going to need another surgery to take care of it.  Although, I do have to say that I was worried that they were still going to have to for a whole week before my original doctor said no.

It is safe to say that I never, NEVER, want to have anything go wrong after surgery again.  Because I am totally still planning on that tummy tuck!