Happy Birthday Lefty!

5 years ago I took a test that saved my ovary!

I celebrate that day as a new birthday for my ovary ever since.

Today is my left ovaries birthday.

I have had several new cycles with her and she has not decided to grow anything new!

I am thankful for that 

Here is to lefty

formally Quasimodo

I am looking to celebrate many more healthy birthdays with you ⭐

Grow a pair

Source

In the mornings that I practice, I usually arrive early so that I can clear my mind and warm up with the room to a toasty 100* of so.

I usually lie on my back, and crack it by swinging my legs to the right and left, keeping my shoulders on the floor...it feels really good first thing in the morning.

Once cracked and adjusted back into line I lay with my hands on my ovaries.

Almost like I am protecting them, or shielding them from outside elements.

At first it was a motion I did without thought, involuntarily.

One morning, while settling in, I realized what I was doing and wondered why?

Was it from the years of poking them?

The years of requiring them to preform for us?

The years of extreme pain they caused me, like I was trying to get them to

 "relax and settle down there cowgirls!"

I don't have an answer for it.

 But... while browsing the vast information highway of the internets 

I stumbled on these fine ladies

I felt inspired and proud to see these modern revolutionary feminists!

After reading their mission statement and vision I was smiling.

Womyn making change in the world

**applause**

I will now rethink the power of my ovaries, 

they are mighty

that are big 

and I don't need no fucking balls!

The Phonecall

I miss these phones,
you could slam them against things and make dents

 

I was reaching out to a couple people I know in an effort to help a fellow friend make a couple connections for possible job opportunities.

It is WAY out of my nature to ask or refer to myself as a bridge for someone to get something.

I guess I don't feel like I hold that level of importance or something.

you know like, I know someone, and they work at this place and a third person I know wants to work at said place and so I introduce them so they can chat or make that connection.

I just wanted to do whatever I could to help this awesome friend, so I got over it for the morning.

 

Well, one of the calls back, with a more then happy to help person, came from someone I have only really casually spoken to over the years. She is CRAZY smart, you know, speaks 5 languages fluently and has 245thousand extra letters after her name from degrees she has collected over time.

She is about to be 35yrs old, and is very involved in her career.

She got married a couple of years ago to a friend of The Barren.

 

When we were chatting about the easiest and best way to get my friend and her to contact one another she got kind of quiet.

I asked if she had more travel plans in line for the year.

She said those heartbreaking words

" I don't know if this is the right time to say this but...."

She then told me that she threw out her BCP when she got engaged and after three years found out that she has PCOS.

I was bathed in a calm, a heartbreaking calm

 

I told her I was so sorry, and how heartbreaking it is.

She then began to talk about everything; and I began to listen with a heavy heart.

She told me how people are relentlessly asking her when she is going to start a family and that it kills her a little each time.

"it is in gods hands" is her normal response,

she said for her it gets them to stop asking and that it conveys that she is wanting children and is not a child hater or shunning the idea/hope.

(seriously, isn't it amazing that people jump to the idea that we don't like kids because we don't have them....ughhhhh)

She mentioned how she feels like she is letting her family down, her brother is gay and she is the families only hope for grandchildren and that she is letting them down.

I said the words that I work to believe everyday:

" This is not your fault, you didn't do this"

I then tried to assure her that she would find the right choices for herself.

I told her that she and her hubby would find their path, and that maybe she could mention it to her family too, that she was struggling...and needed some extra love and compassion.

She mentioned that her husband said to her

"that if she took better care of herself this wouldn't have happened."

He told her "you should call The Barreness and The Barren, they know about what you are going through"

(notice the lack of engagement from hubby, it is all her, not him)

I felt like my friends did, wanting to find a cast iron pan and lop him upside his head.

instead...

I repeated the mantra:

This is not your fault, you did not do this

I told her that it was important to remember it when things got dark

 

She said she was offered a job out of the US and was considering it. She said she needed to find a new path, a new purpose, a new reason for being who she was.

It broke my heart a little more

but I completely understood.

I mentioned that this process is a lifelong one, some days are good and some are bad.

I gave her an exercise my therapist gave me and she said she would try it.

When the call was over she thanked me and I told her I believed in her and her choices that were right for her, she needed to make those paramount.

 

After hanging up the phone, The Barren who overheard the whole call said:

" are you OK, that was a lot for you"

I said: " We are the infertility hotline, we can answer all questions.

Our phones are open 24/7"

 

I got up, pulled two sticks of butter out of the fridge and made cookies.

It was a lot



Waiting for that shoe

" the doctor will see you now Barreness"

 

I have yet to return to work, The Barren wanted me to take the full time and wait until I saw my doctor before heading back into the pit of chaos known as work.

These last few days have been filled with me trying to do more and more so that I could gain momentum, and the shock of a full workday and commute would be lessened.

I sat on my arse all day yesterday posting to my shop and writing a newsletter to my collectors and art colleagues so I am still relevant.

 

I am mostly trying to not think about tomorrows doctors appointment.

I really have no idea what to expect or what to prepare for.

 

The Viscountess came over the day before yesterday and spent the day here, she was a brave cowgirl and sat as passenger as I took to the wheel for the first time in two weeks. I ran some errands and she kept me company. It was nice, it kept me light and I felt like I could spoil her a little by picking up lunch and we sat and chatted as we ate.

I had left the room when her cell phone rang and only returned to hear her say to the person on the other end:

" well, we had a thing with our daughter. Yes, we thought she had ovarian cancer, but thankfully that was not the case. but they were able to tell her why they couldn't conceive.
Yes I am with her now, I will call you later "

 

It was hard to hear those words; it was hard to hear her have to say them.

This morning I got out of bed, tried not to puke and then took a shower.
As I had yet to see the doctor I still had to follow orders of:
 "not letting the spray directly hit your incisions"
Shower time is like twister...lots of bending into shapes that are not normal.
I got dressed and was able to button my jeans and headed to the appointment arriving ten minutes ahead of time. I was placed into a room that took my breath away:

creepy and very prepared for splashes

I was told to undress from the waist down and wait for the doctor on that chair.

It was icky and I was left alone longer then I should have been.

My doctor arrived and I mentioned to her " this is quite a room"

she agreed...and then went to tell me about the results.

I have stage four Endometriosis, she said

"you pretty much have really horrible horrible endometriosis"

She went on to tell me how my tubes are suppose to be in front of my uterus but they are behind it and twisted and fused to other bits of scar tissue. She went over the pictures she took with me.

I thanked her for saving my ovary and she was gracious about that.

I asked if any pathology was done on the cyst and she said yes:

It all came back benign and no signs of cancer.

I was happy....

then she mentioned again my fertility, my mood went into " mask mode"

She told me that although there was soooo much scar tissue, there was really nothing she could do to improve my chances of conceiving. She was sorry about that, she then said " you kind of got a double whammy, with this level of endometriosis and the septum in the uterus..."

I told her I understood and thanked her.

She assured me that I was calling the shots, that unless another cyst formed (which is decreased now that I am on BCP) there is no need for further surgery. She mentioned that if pain returned she had a three stage plan to address it and the last step is chemical menopause, not hysterectomy.

In some ways I was glad to hear that.

I just need to stay on BCP until menopause...which I wonder how you would know that menopause had started if you are ...anyways...another topic for another day far off in the future.

She assured me that endometriosis was not hereditary and that if my niece complains of painful periods, push to get her on the pill to preserve her reproductive tract.

That will be an interesting day...she is only 8 now...but I will fight for her.

 

My button is starting to open, like a sick and twisted bud of a flower....

She looked at my incisions and agreed that I had a pool of surgical glue in my belly button and that I could pick at it if I wanted to...ick! and then said I was ok to go back to being me slowly.

When I asked if I could have sex, she asked me how many days since surgery? 14 today...yeah that should be fine if I felt like it.

I told her I was having the most amazing dreams...she laughed and said gotta love that little extra bit of estrogen....

I had a dream I was winning porn actress of the year and my parents were there, but I didn't want them to see me on stage so I kept coming out and telling them the updates of the awards show.

 it was STRANGE!

 

I left the appointment in a daze, shell shocked and not sure where to place all these feelings.

Grateful beyond words, for being cancer free...but devastated so deeply at the real gritty reality of my fertility. I wandered the mall alone for a couple hours just walking and window gazing. It seemed like an easy way to just walk it out, process bits...and not collapse into a puddle.

 

So much to process

Pelvic Rest

 

I had a horrible start to the day yesterday.

I was expecting a crash post surgery, but thought it would have arrived the second or third day after...not the fourth day.

I had spent the whole night coughing.

A dry irritating cough and no matter what I did I couldn't get it to stop.

I was curled around a second blanket fearful that if I coughed just hard enough,

I would pop one of the incisions.

 

I had gotten out of bed sometime in the middle of the night, thinking I was going to puke.

The pressure and pain against my diaphragm was intense.

It never happened, maybe my visual imaginings of my insides squeezing out of my incisions like a sick version of cheese wiz stopped it...or I was just able to battle it away.

 

When The Barren caught sight of me in the morning he was ready to take me to the ER...I spent the next hour and a half convincing him it was a sore and pissed off diaphragm and not pain from the surgery. I also reminded him that I had started BCP again and having to take a two days dose in one day could also make me feel puky. It was a horrible combination.

I think he is still unconvinced that I haven't needed pain pills since surgery.

I haven't. I am not sure why.

The second day post surgery I had the neck and shoulder thing, it felt like someone had punched my neck and shoulders, that pre-bruising feeling....but nothing that would require a pain pill.

 

I am totally the first to sign up to sign out...but I think the glee, thankfulness and euphoria of knowing I either caught it before it became cancer and that there were no signs of cancer in me has me riding a pretty high happy train.

 

I had gone into surgery with my period; pain in my lower back and some cramping.

When I woke up, there was no pain.

Nausea: lots and lots of that...but no pain.

day two post surgery
swollen tummy, bruised button

 

I had some vanity moments yesterday too, I am not going to lie. I feel puffy and swollen and my bellybutton is filled with surgical glue, so I can't really tell how much it has changed.

I liked my button, it was the only unique thing that tied me to my birth, like a fingerprint of the day.

I think it has changed now. *sigh*

 

I spent yesterday with The Viscountess, she scrubbed my stove (she does that with her neverous energy, it is how she expresses love)  and spent time just sitting with me and keeping quiet company. She had me eat some salad and that started the deep real burps (even though I have been eating gasx and walking like a loopy girl) it started to relieve the pressure and then I started drinking pear juice last night (a tip from a friend; to get things moving out) I awoke this am feeling closer to fine.

 

I am still processing the reality that is inside me, I will share that later...but I am today, closer to fine.

Today is the Day

 

Who knows what she will see when she opens me up

Who knows what she will take and keep

I am balancing on a high cliff, just holding the hands of my friends and family



I'm Sorry Vagina

I had my pre-op today.

It was horrible to sign the forms, that state: "you could die"

on them as remote outcomes from this surgery.

I was wiping tears from my eyes when the doctor walked in and saw me.

She asked what she could say that would help me feel more at ease.

I told her I was afraid I was going to die.

She gave me the chances of me dying from this surgery and they are pretty slim.

She spent time again answering my copious list of questions that ranged from where am I going to will this effect any sexual function and has assured me that she will have my best interests in mind when assessing my reproductive system.

She still has this little light in the back of her head that this surgery will "fix our fertility problems" and so in many ways she will be operating to protect my fertility.

That looked weird typing...

 

 

 

She knows The Barren has the right to make calls if things look bad,

and he knows what I do and don't want to happen.

She ran down what she will do, and good to worse versions of each step.

She told me that I can expect some bleeding/spotting after the surgery as they

" are going to put a device into your vagina to manipulate your uterus"

 and that if I wake up with more then three holes from the surgery it was because they were unable to get the excised pieces through the scopes.

If she sees a tumor she will send it to pathology while I am asleep and will then contact my hubby for approval of what is or isn't to be done.

These steps are the scariest scenarios and she knows that.

She has assured me that I will be sore and uncomfortable for a few days.

and then the final instruction: nothing in your vagina for two weeks

 

I left her office with labs and instructions for hospital pre-registration.

I was terrified and in auto mode, complete what needs to be done....

The Barren left for work and I finished up on my own.

 

When I got home, I met a friend for a cuppa tea and she saw how exhausted I was...today was harder than I thought it would be and I am now allowing myself the rest of today to feel scared and cry uncontrollably.

Starting tomorrow, all meditation focuses on Strong, Brave and Confident me.

 

I don't want this to take me out, I don't want to be defined by this, I don't want this to be the end of my happiness, I don't want this to stop me.

***

I want this to be the start of a new path, I want this to be a gift, I want this to allow me to walk taller, I want this to make me stronger, I want this to be OK.

 

Dear Vagina,

I am so sorry for what you are about to be put through.

I promise you this: I will continue to call you my own. I love you and want you to be healthy and happy. I will nurse you back to health and comfort you when you are sore and achy.

We are in this together girl.

No matter what they do to us, we have each other.

They can try to get us down, by making us feel like we are broken but we know we are stronger than that. We will recover from this and find many new fun adventures. We have been through a lot of tests and have been introduced to many people, some were even nice enough to introduce themselves first before making us swallow a wand or finger. We are hopefully about to crest, and have far less introductions in the near future. We will celebrate this victory.

In the meantime, be strong, be brave and know that you can recover from this latest challenge. I believe in you!

Love, your life long person 

Pounding Heart



image via Vintage Printable

The weekend was filled with panic attacks and believe it or not a pregnancy test as AF was super late, from all the stress it turns out.

 

So The Barren and I went to see Special Lady Doctor yesterday.

I took my LONG list of questions and my 2 inch thick binder of years of results and scans.
 I thought I was having a heart attack at least three times on the drive there.

We got to the appointment a half hour early and waited in silence...The Barren held my hand and commented how he could feel my heart beat in it. I thought it was visible to all at this point.

The half hour wait helped settle it a bit, while I watched HGTV on the lobby TV.
The couple that was having their house redone was an infertile couple that had stopped the renovations when they realized their family was not going to grow as they had thought.
The Barren looked at me and we just said "seriously, this is what we were in time for?!"
 

They called my name and we walked into the exam room...my heart exploding again.
Thank goodness they didn't take my pulse, as they probably would have called the crash cart out!
We waited in the room for another 20 minutes.
In that time The Barren looked at the stirrups and questioned if they were comfortable. I told him that it was nice that they had covers on them, so they were not cold.
I assured him that I was not going to have an exam.
He was sitting in a tiny recess in the room that served as an in-room changing area.
They had stocked it with cloth gowns, padded hangers and basket full of pads and tampons.
I watched his eyes go back to the basket over and over...I asked him what he was most fascinated by, he said the names of the products seemed strange and spelt weird.
It made me chuckle and recall how these companies tend to find the most obnoxious colors for their packaging. How as a younger version of myself was always mortified to stand in a line with a bright pink package or a bright blue box, or in the really early days a pack of maxi pads that would now double for a bag of diapers!

He then picked up a magazine and happened on an article about Naomi Wolf and her Vaginia book 

it mentions vaginal massage and yoni tapping and he looked at me and said in my next life I want to be a master vaginal massage therapist.
 At this we both laughed and I was left feeling intense and serene love for this man.
 

The doctor came in and I asked her to go over the results again as the phone call was a hard way to process it all. She saw my list of questions and was happy that I had written them all down. She spent a good chunk of time answering all my questions, telling me what her concerns were and why and laying out a plan. The Barren asked all his questions and addressed his concerns and we in the end decided that it was best to have this surgery.

 

The lowdown:

I have a mildly elevated CA125, it is 29 (nothing going on is 3, full blown cancer is 100) with this number and a history of endo, she is concerned. She explained how she will try to save my ovary but must also assess the risks of it and she understands my desire to keep as much of me as possible. She also will be removing as much endo as she sees, explaining that it too can become additional endometriomas and we want to avoid that from happening. I will be back on the BCP post surgery.

She told me that my barnacle is the size of a lime, it has grown since it was measured last.

 

November 16th is the day

the day after tomorrow my beloved is having his second biopsy for his skin cancer...and all my energy is focusing on him and his health.
I love him so deeply.

On the drive home The Barren mentioned that he felt defensive at the end of the appointment as the doctor mentioned all the options while under:
she could put a camera in my uterus and see what is happening in there
She could tie my tubes
She could also remove my septum, which would probably
 "fix my infertility and my history of miscarriages"
it was this comment that made him sad, as it reminded him of how long this journey has been and how we chose not to have surgery to get pregnant. He said it felt like a slap after the fact.
I understand what he is saying...we might never feel comfortable with our choices.
I had a teacher in high school who wasn't able to have kids because of the RH factor, by the time they had it all figured out it was too late for them to have kids.
Although the situation is different, I feel similarly.
We are 9 years older, tackling the personal and emotional challenges of a life without children.
When a simple sentence like "this could fix all your problems" is said the whole house of carefully laid cards falls and we have to slowly start building it again.
My heart is pounding, my heart is aching

The Barreness is laughing

What the...

cookies crumble

I am a tough a cookie, but this might break me.

I got a call from the doctor specialist yesterday, which was surprising.
Then the sentence "Is this a good time to talk?"
Ohhhh fuck....

So she wants to do surgery.
I told her that was my VERY VERY last option.
I told her that I weigh my comfort and quality of life based on my days pain-free and most of the month is that. I have maybe three days a month where I am uncomfortable but that is it.

She mentioned my back pain and my Barnacle. That damn thing has camped out and slightly grown since my last measurement. Then she said something that freaked me out and pretty much after that, I heard only parts of what she said:

Malignant transformation
apparently she said that if left for long times, endometriomas can get nasty and become malignant.
With your slightly elevated CA125 results* and how long it has been there....

She mentioned that I have a 50% chance of loosing my ovary to it.
She would remove any and all other adhesions that she could see.
She also offered to place an IUD while "I am out" to start the follow-up hormone suppression of additional growths. As I would really be only guaranteed three pain free months post surgery.
Or I start the pill afterwards.

* I had gotten a call last week telling me that my results were within normal levels

I am freaking out, I am mad and I am concerned.
I am lost

I know surgeons want to fix things, I am sceptical that she is trying to fix it, more then prevent catastrophe. I am leery...slow to believe that I have a second edition to this horrible novel.

What I wonder is a million things; but did I do this to myself by staying off the pill too long?
I thought I was being responsible by monitoring the "cyst" but apparently not.

I am swirling and terrified.
I have already made the choice to not had an IUD, aside from being afraid of them, I have a septum in my uterus and I really don't want any complications from the placement.
I also know that I am terrified of loosing my ovary and then my sex drive.

The Barren and I meet with her in a week and a half.
I am composing a list of questions and alternatives.
until then I am trying to not throw-up or think of something deadly incubating in me.

It is not what you think....

"You didn't drink enough water...your bladder is not totally full"

(pointing to dark circle on screen)

"I drank two 16oz glasses and a mug of tea...."

"it is OK, this will be fine."

 

*****

 

The Barreness: " if I bring a DVD can you make a movie of this like you do for the others?"

Frank the dildo cam man:" well we normally only do it for pregnancies"

The Barreness: "Well, this is all I have"

Frank the dildo cam man: Silence, then ..." I don't see why not, sure bring one next time. Would you like a photo from today?"

The Barreness: " Yes please that would be wonderful, thank you"

 

You can clearly see the barnacle on my left ovary
that is needing all my attention

I am going to bring a DVD to my next appointment in 6weeks. He went thru the process like an automated man, it was clear that he has been an ultrasound tech for 30 years. He works in a fertility clinic, where he does a myrid of jobs with his ultrasound equiment and

 little ol' me was the hiccup in his day.

 

 I made sure not to drop it or scratch the surface while I visited the bathroom again before leaving for my drive to work. Although it appeared that I didn't have a full bladder at the beginning of the exam, I had to stop three times along my 40mile trip to work. I looked at the precious image every time I got into the car and each time I had a little vision of what it must be like to see a baby on that paper instead of my I-need-to-be-a-little-bitch-to-you ovaries. I sent the image to The Barren and although we both agreed it was super cool to have the image, it was also kind of sad.

 

I knew that in the long run I would regret not getting the image.

In the meantime I can forget it in a book or just kind of misplace it for a while...maybe.

At the present, I seem to be totally transfixed on the side by side images, wondering how something so small can rule so much of me. He wasn't able to get a good pic of the big girl (uterus) as she has a split personality and it harder to get to smile for the camera.

 

It is all in a name

Around a table last night while enjoying food and conversation

 the topic of naming body parts came up.

I think my cupcakes really started the conversation... (they were a hit)

The men were talking about how they had named their girlfriends/wives/partners boobies...

and the names began.

Apparently hubby doesn't have a name for my boobies, I simply refer to them as "the girls"

The one that received the most laughter was "Cheech and Chong"

Then the conversation went onto testicles and butts and then

someone said "maybe I should name my ovaries!"

I was still laughing about something else and then my wheels all slammed to a stop....

Name my ovaries...what would I call the troublemakers?!

I mean I am so completely connected to them and they are constantly ruling my behavior and choices that it seems funny I haven't thought of it before and given them names by now.

Plus, this is totally feeding my inner 6th grader, who loved talking crass and thinking up funny names for testicles.

I came up with a name for one and hubby came up with the name for the other:

Quasimodo and plain Jane

Thankful

She plays coy....but we know her strength

First off I would like to thank the people who are now following my blog.

I have written here for years and in the last 6months I have been "discovered"....in fact the first time I realized I had "followers" I sat and stared at the screen and cried. I am not totally sure why. I think it was a combination of feeling found out, and feeling found.

So thank you ladies for your OVERWHELMINGLY kind words and love.

I do so feel it.

Yesterday was a stop at the NP, I wanted to talk about my plans, and desires for my body.

My primary care doc chose not to call to followup on the results of my MRI from December so I took control and booked an appt with the NP who treats me like a person and hears what I say.

So long crappy primary care doc...and thanks for nothing

When she came in I told her that I wanted to go over my latest results and find out what it really meant. She moved her chair all the way over to me and went thru each of the four lines of findings slowly. 

I pointed out that the cyst had shrunk between the ultrasound and the MRI (one week apart) and she mentioned that it might have ruptured a little after the ultrasound.

She also thinks that the "plucking" feeling I have is most likely Mittleschmerz or middle pain, the feeling of ovulation.

I told her I had not gone back onto the BC pills since I saw her last in Aug (for a stressed tummy) and that although she prescribed them to me, it took months to fill it and then pick it up from the pharmacy.

 It now resides in the cabinet of my bathroom....forgotten most of the time.

I told her the emotion of having to go back on them was too heavy.

I wanted to avoid them for as long as possible. I felt better off of them.

Seeing that I was still doing nothing to shrink the fibroids or the cysts, I was aware I was at risk for torsion and wanted to assess the real facts involved in making this decision.

I also told her I have been fed so many scare speeches, that if she could please simply tell me if I am acting risky. No need to stand in front of a dragon if I don't have to.

After a cyst gets about 3cm she likes to keep a close eye on it. Mine are around that size but I am feeling fine. She said she would prefer to treat me, then the cyst...if I feel fine, then we just keep an eye on the cyst and not go on the pill. I get to have ultrasounds every 4-6months instead.

She told me the warning signs of fallopian tube torsion and I understand the risk.

She told me to that I need to take vitamins and that we will assess my needs as they appear, she will do my annual and we will work together to keep me feeling good!

and that my penchant for chai or green tea is not a caffeine risk.

I felt like a person when I left, I felt normal and ok...I was so empowered that I came home and took a nap!

I awoke from a dream about two weeks ago telling my husband that I have just slain the devil...I slid a sword down its back. It fit into its spine like a sheath, it was not a triumphant feeling, but simply something I knew I could do.

He told me I was a bad-ass, and was glad I was sleeping next to him.

Mellow

© The Barreness
all rights reserved

I have my MRI on tomorrow morning. The location only offers a closed MRI machine so I am being prescribed a "mellow the hell out" pill to make me not think all those horrible things, or at least not care about them while a powerful magnetic field is used to align the magnetization of some atoms in my body, which will create a radio frequency field to systematically alter the alignment of this magnetization. This will cause my nuclei to produce a rotating magnetic field detectable by the scanner—and this information is recorded to construct an image of my uterus, ovaries and pelvis. 

really it is quite scientific, nothing to be emotional about, 

nothing to be freaking out about.

I had an MRI once before, of my brain though 

and I was in an open MRI 

while my hubby held my ankle 

so I wouldn't cry from fear of what they might find.

Hubby has made arrangements to be at this one too, hopefully he can hold whatever part of me is still sticking out of the thing so I don't feel so lost and scared. I don't think I am scared of small spaces, but when I think of it, under the conditions I am there I want a " I don't give a fuck" pill, followed by a long nap of forgetting all my concerns with magical make it all go away dreams.

During my recent panic attacks I have been mad at myself for wanting to try and live off the pill, as this is the reaction. I continued to wait and tempt the Barreness with more opportunities to build new fibroids and cysts and she took that chance and moved in. Now I have something growing in me that is causing concern. I just hope I can get the wheel to start spinning in the other direction and save my ovary from her.

I will know more as the week passes.

I really don't like the feeling of doctors making passing glances at my films and making life altering suggestions for me. The long history of being in this place has left me feeling skeptical of them, I really wanted a healer, a compassionate healer.