You know, I had planned to start blogging about my amazing vacation experiences I have had over the years. Talking about the difference between living and being alive and how all of that ties into the survivor perspective. But, I guess, that will have to wait...again. Instead, I am apparently going to share with you what I hope is a full circle moment in my 13 years of being a cancer survivor. What my dear friend has coined as my upcoming "Uterine Retreat."
Happy lucky number 13 years survivorship to me and 33rd birthday, I am getting a full hysterectomy.
To keep with the number three oddity here, I am having three key organs removed; uterus, fallopian tubes (let's be real they are a pair and thus count as one, don't come at with me my bad math), & my one remaining ovary.
The word "retreat" in Uterine Retreat can either stand for my healing period after surgery or, the organs preparing to finally retreat from the ongoing war they have been battling for 13 years. I feel these comrades deserve a proper send off as they have fought hard, won many battles, but have realized the war between child bearing & better quality of life has come to an end.
Gah. That is hard realization to come to. The emotions I am feeling are bottomless.
When I first discovered I would need to get my right ovary removed at the age of 20, my chances for a child were cut down to near 50%. Waking up from that surgery to be faced with a cancer diagnosis and the need for chemotherapy brought that percentage down further. The final drop in percentage was the chemo-induced menopause and the VERY real possibility I would never come out of it, bringing the chance of getting pregnant, either through natural or medical means, to near non-existent. All of this to say, my son is beyond a miracle child. We FOUGHT for him! My uterine comrades and I.
It's odd, I feel as if once again my body has betrayed me. We have fought so hard together through thick and thin and now they dare to stab me where they know it will do the most damage. It's beyond appalling! But, then again, I realize it's not that they are doing this purpose. They have hit their limit and realize they are causing me more damage then actually being of use. For this, my heart and mind change to merely show gratitude that this body, these parts, have kept me alive. These beautifully, intricate, feminine parts showed me signs of danger so I could protect myself. They delicately carried my son for nine months. In their tired and worn down state they still managed to keep me going.
I know the benefits will outweigh the loss, providing the ability to finally live the healthy lifestyle I have so desperately sought. The optimism within me will not be dragged out with the organs. Not a chance! If anything, my resolve to experience my life and teach my son to do the same will only grow stronger. As now, I will not be couch and bed ridden for two weeks out of each month due to uterine issues. I will essentially be, finally...free.
Free from the fear of agonizing pain striking at a moments notice. Free from the constraints of my low level energy. Free from the constant worry of cancer rearing its ugly & disdainful self.
To the women who have been in similar circumstances, thank you for paving the way. This journey will not be easy I recognize. With my miracle boy by my side cheering me on, it will make all the difference.
Finally, to my uterine comrades...I thank you for your service. Our battles were arduous and you fought to the end.
Now, it is time you get to rest. I salute you.
With hope,
Anndi
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