Flush with excitement…

The weekend didn’t start off right.  Friday night my toilet was backed up and I found myself doing the unthinkable into a plastic bag.  I was horrified but it didn’t stop me from writing a friend of mine in England and telling her all about it.  Well, it hasn’t stopped me from telling you either.  The plumber arrived at 9 and he wrestled with a long coil in my toilet for a bit of time.  It was almost as though he was deep-sea fishing and from the high pitched sounds emanating from the toilet, I thought he might have had Jaws at the other end of the line.  There was a dramatic moment when he jumped up and down, water splashed over the bowl and he seemed to be losing the battle with the beast below.  I hovered by the door at a safe distance from the foul water and yet close enough to watch the show.  Suddenly, it all went calm.  My plumber gave me a slow relieved smile and I applauded.  If I had champagne, we would have certainly toasted the moment.  A smooth full-bodied flush followed another and we both knew… Disaster averted.

Kelly, my yoga teacher arrived today.  I admit, having her here is a luxury but one I’d rather not do without.  She started coming right after my expanders were exchanged and she unwittingly prepared me for my hysterectomy.  We were working on my core when one surprisingly bad meeting with a gynecologist led to another meeting with a surgeon, which had me on a table removing the whole shebang a week later.  The more scientific term would be a radical hysterectomy.  They didn’t find cancer, just very bad cells whose goal in life was to become cancer.  The operation deterred all that and the ringleader ovaries were removed too.  They and their estrogen production seemed to be the culprit behind many of my problems.  For the first time in years, I could think clearly again.  I had not realized how much my mood was measured by estrogen.  As for scars or muscle damage, it’s not even a year later and I often forget that surgery happened at all.  It was Vita who said I should make sure the operation was robotic and she was right.  I was up and about hours later.  My arm is always demanding all of the attention and it is usually Kelly who reminds me that there are other scars besides my arm.

This week I had to deal with my emotional scars.  Every time I meet with the doctors, I go into high alert if I don’t hear advice or news I like.  I’m always expecting the loss of yet another body part; to be under the glare of those operating room lights.  Vita and Kelly both gave me speeches this week that were harsh and to the point.  Only this afternoon Kelly said, “You need to stop imagining things.  You don’t have cancer, your lymphedema is so minimal I can’t even see it and you’re just projecting your fears.  Stop it!  Once you have cancer you carry the weight of the knowledge of it forever but you can’t let it control you.” Then she made me do warrior poses and stretches and by the end…. I was so mellow nothing actually mattered.  Vita says, “I tell you things that are good for your whole life and not just for the moment.”   In case you can’t read between the lines;  Vita has been known to say true and at times painful things.  I would have it no other way.

I love the fact that no one around me lets me wallow in my fears.  They like the plumber on Friday night do not let anything sit for long.  They may have to resort to harsh words but in the end… well, I’m sure you get the analogy.  Emotionally unclogged is a good term.

Photos will be coming back soon.  I’ve got a scanner problem….

This entry was posted in Cancer, Essay, Hysterectomy, Uncategorized, Vita and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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