Kate's Point of View

My hysterectomy surgery was, I think, uneventful. It was the scariest thing I’ve ever been through, but I made it out the other side.

This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.

I came back from a two week vacation, during which my body granted me a reprieve from a period that has been going almost non-stop since July, feeling antsy about some test results. I had done pretty well at checking out during vacation and not thinking about my uterus, but in the back of my mind was still this underlying worry about my results.I got tested for BRCA1 and BRCA2, commonly known as the breast cancer genes, right before leaving on vacation. The idea would be that if I tested positive, my ovaries would exit my body during the hysterectomy. If I tested negative, I would get to keep my ovaries and postpone menopause until it’s naturally occurring time. I like this sort of logic because it’s just that – logic. I don’t understand how people are supposed to make medical decisions without concrete facts. You talk to as many people as possible and collect whatever information you can and then you’re supposed to make a decision based on … what? Your gut? I can’t take that. So this letting what to me was the hardest decision rest on the results of a genetics test was wonderful.

The Monday I returned to work, I started calling for test results first thing in the morning. Because not everything revolves around me, I found myself leaving messages and pleading with front desk staff explaining that I needed the results in time for a 8 am appointment on Tuesday with my doctor.

Finally I got through. The counselor said to me, “When I left you a message saying your results were ready, I tried to imply that the results were good. I hope you could tell that.” Um, not so much. But the results were good! I tested negative for BRCA1 and BRCA2 and it was like an immediate weight lifted off my shoulders.

Although my results don’t really affect my extended family too much – they would have to get their own tests done – I did share everything I learned. It was fascinating to me that I could get a test, 100% covered by my insurance, that gave me such valuable information. I’m not sure if I’d be as enthusiastic had I tested positive because it would have other ramifications in terms of my likelihood of being diagnosed with breast cancer, but for now, the information just feels like great power.

This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.

In the period right before and after I was diagnosed with a fibroid tumor, I was nauseous and queasy and my appetite was terrible. I lost about 8 pounds in as many weeks. Some of it was just being nervous but some was food just not tasting right.Then I figured out what tasted just fine. Froot Loops. Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Honey Nut Cheerios. Lots of lots and Jolly Ranchers. So many Jolly Ranchers

You will note that not a single item in the above list is healthy. Or diet friendly.

Eating like a stoner / college student has led to a few side effects:

• The 8 pounds I lost over 8 weeks was regained in 3 weeks.
• I’m eating all day at work, as well as popping Pepto and avoiding certain foods, leading to the pretty obvious assumption by people that I’m pregnant. This is fair since I also alternate between looking really bloated from the tumor to not showing anything at all. On days when I feel skinny, I dress just shy of inappropriate for work so that people might think I’m a little slutty but at least know I’m not pregnant. If there are rumors going around about me, I want to control them to some extent.
• Grocery shopping becomes fun and Wonder Boy embraces this opportunity to buy junk cereal.
• So much of the cereal that sounds good is not good, inspiring a future series where I taste test forbidden cereals from my youth.
• Your bathroom business includes colors that are not present in nature, but do appear in a box of Froot Loops.
• You realize that for the most part, your mom was right to not let you eat junk cereal.

This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.

After getting a recommendation for a complete hysterectomy (uterus, ovaries, cervix … along with a softball-sized tumor), I went into information gathering mode. That presented a few challenges. First, I had to tell people what was going on. And get to a point where I could do that without crying. Second, I had to get information that would help me make the decision that was best for me.My first step was emailing out close friends in small, but increasingly large batches explaining what was happening. I’d say the first 20 responses I got resulted in me sobbing. No one said anything mean. It was all sweet, supportive and nice. But I respond so poorly to sympathy. And was feeling so sorry for myself that sympathy almost was like ammunition to go further in the dumps.

But after a while, it got easier. I received an email from a friend complimenting me on leaning on others. She had been through some hard times and pushed herself out of her comfort zone to rely on the help of others. I’m not sure she realized it, but it was that example I used when contacting people. I admired how she created a support network.

My next step was to get health information. Here’s the thing about researching health. Everyone has opinions. Very few of those people have opinions based in any fact. Articles online? So many are terrible. They are written from very clear points of view that aren’t neutral. And I decided, quickly, that I was only accepting input from experts, which included people with a related medical background or people who had themselves had a hysterectomy while under the age of 40 so their experience might be like mine.

There were more of that latter group than I expected. I approached them with a series of the most intimate questions, sometimes with things implied rather than explicitly stated, and everyone answered everything. It was like being welcomed into this really supportive community I wish I had no connection to.

Through family, I found the name of another OB-GYN to meet with for a second opinion. A friend connected me with a gynecological oncologist / surgeon who was willing to talk to me on her personal cell on her personal time. I talked to someone in genetics who looked at my crazy family history of cancer and told me it wasn’t all that crazy.

You can get all of the information you want. At the end of the day, the task presented was this: “Learn what you can. Think about your options and decide what’s best for you. Then go on vacation and forget all about it! When you come back, we’ll decide what to do and schedule things.”

Forget all about it? I could think of nothing else.

This post originally appeared on Kate’s Point of View. © Kate. All rights reserved.