This was written in January 2018 after my hysterectomy.
The faint hearted should sign out now!
Part One:The road to being 'emptied'!
Well it's been a while since I last wrote and so much has happened: A new career, went on the Camino de Santiago, nearly bled to death (actually bled my way along the camino) bled my around Rototom Reggae festival, bled my way around our new office, and finally ended up in hospital with two blood transfusions and now have been 'emptied', a lovely local expression referring to a full hysterectomy-but as I point out in my poem 'ode to my womb' they did leave me with a heart and soul still intact so that`s a slight relief at least...
So here I am three and half weeks after my emptying about to share all the gorey details-If you are of delicate disposition turn away now-actually just stop reading coz I'm going to share it all: including how to ask your subconcsious mind to help you poo post operation, my strange hallucinations, my long dangly plastic willy which put me off ever wanting to be a man, a stomach that resembles a mini leather football complete with tatoos and wounds (the worst is in the belly button eek!) and how I spotted Donald Trump in my ward five hours after my operation...(yes it probably is called heavy pharma comedown but still) and I have many great tips for the ladies who may be mistakingly reading this thinking I'm going to make the whole procedure seem like a walk in the park-well it bloody fking hurts and most men wouldn´t make it through the first 24 hours!
But ladies, we are tough and as long as you possess a sense of humour -careful there though-laughing can be excruciating- and some good people around you, then you will get through it :)
And for any men reading this-you will learn a lot in order to help your wife, girlfriend, sister, mother, friend whatever or whoever she may be or perhaps you work in the medical field and are doing some research and just happened to come across this! It will definitely broaden your horizons and raise some eyebrows.
So, rewind to last spring and there I am chatting away to my two nice British lady Airbnber's sharing our lady stories (and men stories) and one confides she has come away for some fun and relax time after months recovering from her hystercetomy-shows me her scar (bigger than mine!), shares the suffering and gore but also points out that it was a brilliant move and wishes she had done it years ago. Hmmm, I in turn share my years of battling with gynos and operations and recent suffering to which she responds-don't even think about it-get it all out! Not quite as simple as that I thought but then my body decided to make it easier to convince the medical profession that that was exactly what I needed...
Meanwhile I am, 1) busy qualifying as a consulting hypnotist 2) hosting airbner´s 3) supporting my adolescent daughter and three street cats (big daughter now living with new boyfriend) 4) been waiting for a year to do another stetch of Camino de Santiago with my great friend who was flying in from Thailand, and 5) preparing to go into business with my business partner/fellow consulting hypnotist. No time for my body to play up and certainly no time for a major operation!
But a gentle reminder: life doesn't work like that-plans are transitory and nature does not always see fit to comply.
And so the floodgates opened...down there...and what began like an unpleasant period just simply decided to never stop. Now don't judge me here folks-the benefit of hindsight is brilliant and If I had even began to think I was genuinely endangering my life perhaps I would have done things differently but in true woman style I soldiered on-give up going my rock festival? No way! Give up The Camino de Santiago after all this waiting and anticipation? Think again!
I had a business to open, a place as volunteer at the Reggae festival-my womb would just have to get over it. Well it didn't and strange alien type things that looked like large slabs of liver began to fall out of me at the most inconvenient times. Then it would stop and start. after a month or so I had my first visit to A&E-after much uncomfortable prodding and humming and haaring and biopsy taken (at this point I really wished I were a man!) I was told there were some issues with lining of the womb and an ovarian cyst. I was given tablets to temporarily cut the bleeding, told to rest at which point I told them in ten days I was about to set off for a little stroll...
I was told in no uncertain terms to think very carefully about possible repercussions as they couldn't be sure the bleeding wouldn't worsen.
I went home and cried and ranted at my womb! Not that it listened. I rested. I was a good girl but by God nothing was stopping me escaping to Galicia even if it meant bussing it all the way-I would see the famous summer Solstice sunset at Fisterre on June 21st and maybe one of the many saints who'd gone before me would heal me?
I went and loved every second of it!
I was sensible- Did NOT do the first 30kms on foot and spent the morning in bed in Santiago while my girlfriends set off for a rather long walk. Meanwhile the tempertaures soared and I boarded a bus to our first destination. I even loved the bus ride! I was so happy to be there that even having to lug around plastic sheeting and wearing sanitary towels the size of surf boards did not get me down. The following moring, after all three of us were kept awake by a cacophony of snoring from our fellow hostel dwellers, we decided to rise at an ungodly hour-around 5,30 and set off .I decided I was ready to join just for a short walk.(I sent a video to family and friends to shock them-not the fact that I was walking but that I had actually risen at day break by choice and not under duress) We had many memorable moments-if you haven´t been to Galicia-go! Stunning scenery, lovely people and great food (well, if you are vegetarian it can be slightly challenging ;)) I would intermittently walk, rest, bus it or taxi. Perhaps I was unable to do it in true pilgrim style but actually I felt more of a pilgrim than most, for despite my physical suffering my pleasure at simply being there, and in such great company, overrode any doubts at my decision. In fact, my sanitary towels even came in handy as a makeshift bandage for a terribly painful blister!And so I made it to Finisterre for summer solstice and stood upon that clifftop admiring the most incredible sunset and soaking up the vibes and thanked my body for getting me there in one piece more or less...
Home to rest and still the bleeding continued.Then stopped then started...
Swimming became awkward (I live on the Med and adore swimming and summer without swimming is NOT much fun) I carried on, opened my business, participated in courses, in life in general but slowly found myself fading...
I managed to get to Rototom, admittedly we were all a bit concerned, however I was just going to sit most of the time, rest and help manage the charity stall. I have to admit here-I loved the fsestival, the vibes and would definitely go back but next time without bleeeding in festival toilets and showers in 90 degrees heat.
So finally I had a minor collapse after my return and was put on iron. Though still not warned how serious this was getting...
I noticed my memory and concentration were really deteriorating and then my vision started playing up. I still had no idea of the dangers of acute aneamia and as the hospital hadn't seemed particularly alarmed then I wasn't going to make a fuss either.
Friends and family became alarmed so I finally gave in and returned to the hopital to A&E and decided to exagerate it a little so I would be taken more seriously. Turned out I didn't need to as I finally did collapse, not once but twice! The second time will remain in my mind for a long time to come. More like a scene from a horror movie as I spurted the gyno and her team of four with my life blood. As everything began to fade around me, their voices becoming distant (yes I was even slapped!) I still managed to be fascinated by how much blood I was almost projectile vomiting from my nether regions right at them-a scene even Tarantino would have been proud of!
I was simultaneously pondering on whether I'd have a NDE-something I'd been researching for a while. Actually it was hideous-no tunnels and bright lights and handsome angels telling me it was not my time-just excruciating pain, muscle spasms, shouting and my mum crying in the room next door. So yes, almost three months of serious blood loss, acute aneamia and two blood transfusions later I made it clear, in the words of The Manic Street Preachers-Everything must go!!I am not going to tell the story of the last 8 years and two other gynaecological operations here but needless to say I was at the end of my tether with my lady bits. I wanted it all out. Of course I was in no fit state for an opeartion at that point and was told I needed a minimum three month recuperation period before I could be operated in order to recover from the anaeamia. Iron and B12 became my best friends. I had three injections over a three month period to stem the flow of Oestrogen, provoking a chemical menopause-which stopped the bleeding finally. After some vague concerns over menopausal symptoms-obviously preferable to bleeding to death-I found many great supplements and herbal tinctures which helped enormously and I began to feel incredibly well and so pleased to never have to see a surfboard sized sanitary towel again!
Finally seven months after it all began I had my operation. Now, after all those hideous experiences I was taking no chances. I prepared myself mentally with hypnosis, went to yoga classes and continued with my Iron, B12, Agnus Castus, CBD oil, Aloe Vera juice and super smoothies just to name a few to ensure I was going in fighting fit. There were some concerns that there may be some slight complications due to my past interventions but as it turned out they were still able to go ahead and perform a laparoscopic hysterectomy (four incisions in the abdomen) and remove my womb, ovaries and cervix. After so many months of it hanging over my head and unceartainty over the final date of my op I was just hugely impatient to get it over and done with and get on with the recovery. Despite my mental preparation I did have a slight freak out the night before -straightening my hair at 3am in case there was a hunky surgeon- Pre op nerves obviously as I rarely have straight hair...
Another tip-I had a full wax beforehand to avoid unpleasant hospital shaving. I read five (yes five!) books on hysterectomies, long lists of before and afters, what to take to hospital and what to have waiting at home. And so I entered hospìtal with a large overnight bag and a shopping trolley full of all the comforting items to make my stay and recovery as pleasant as possible whilst my father complained that we looked like a band of gypsies. Rose water to cleanse and fresh-ear plugs-lavender oil-natural laxatives-homeopathic arnica-CBD oil-books-music-toiletries-flask of herb tea and the list went on...
It was a tad annoying to realize I recognized just about every hospital employee, surgeon, nurse and specialist- it was time to finally break up this relationship with the hospital and really hope this will be my last intervention either ever or for many years at least! I waved at mr friendly gyno student (he had patted my hand on a couple of painful occasions) greeted all the team who of course I recognized and drifted off...
Part One:The road to being 'emptied'!
Well it's been a while since I last wrote and so much has happened: A new career, went on the Camino de Santiago, nearly bled to death (actually bled my way along the camino) bled my around Rototom Reggae festival, bled my way around our new office, and finally ended up in hospital with two blood transfusions and now have been 'emptied', a lovely local expression referring to a full hysterectomy-but as I point out in my poem 'ode to my womb' they did leave me with a heart and soul still intact so that`s a slight relief at least...
So here I am three and half weeks after my emptying about to share all the gorey details-If you are of delicate disposition turn away now-actually just stop reading coz I'm going to share it all: including how to ask your subconcsious mind to help you poo post operation, my strange hallucinations, my long dangly plastic willy which put me off ever wanting to be a man, a stomach that resembles a mini leather football complete with tatoos and wounds (the worst is in the belly button eek!) and how I spotted Donald Trump in my ward five hours after my operation...(yes it probably is called heavy pharma comedown but still) and I have many great tips for the ladies who may be mistakingly reading this thinking I'm going to make the whole procedure seem like a walk in the park-well it bloody fking hurts and most men wouldn´t make it through the first 24 hours!
But ladies, we are tough and as long as you possess a sense of humour -careful there though-laughing can be excruciating- and some good people around you, then you will get through it :)
And for any men reading this-you will learn a lot in order to help your wife, girlfriend, sister, mother, friend whatever or whoever she may be or perhaps you work in the medical field and are doing some research and just happened to come across this! It will definitely broaden your horizons and raise some eyebrows.
So, rewind to last spring and there I am chatting away to my two nice British lady Airbnber's sharing our lady stories (and men stories) and one confides she has come away for some fun and relax time after months recovering from her hystercetomy-shows me her scar (bigger than mine!), shares the suffering and gore but also points out that it was a brilliant move and wishes she had done it years ago. Hmmm, I in turn share my years of battling with gynos and operations and recent suffering to which she responds-don't even think about it-get it all out! Not quite as simple as that I thought but then my body decided to make it easier to convince the medical profession that that was exactly what I needed...
Meanwhile I am, 1) busy qualifying as a consulting hypnotist 2) hosting airbner´s 3) supporting my adolescent daughter and three street cats (big daughter now living with new boyfriend) 4) been waiting for a year to do another stetch of Camino de Santiago with my great friend who was flying in from Thailand, and 5) preparing to go into business with my business partner/fellow consulting hypnotist. No time for my body to play up and certainly no time for a major operation!
But a gentle reminder: life doesn't work like that-plans are transitory and nature does not always see fit to comply.
And so the floodgates opened...down there...and what began like an unpleasant period just simply decided to never stop. Now don't judge me here folks-the benefit of hindsight is brilliant and If I had even began to think I was genuinely endangering my life perhaps I would have done things differently but in true woman style I soldiered on-give up going my rock festival? No way! Give up The Camino de Santiago after all this waiting and anticipation? Think again!
I had a business to open, a place as volunteer at the Reggae festival-my womb would just have to get over it. Well it didn't and strange alien type things that looked like large slabs of liver began to fall out of me at the most inconvenient times. Then it would stop and start. after a month or so I had my first visit to A&E-after much uncomfortable prodding and humming and haaring and biopsy taken (at this point I really wished I were a man!) I was told there were some issues with lining of the womb and an ovarian cyst. I was given tablets to temporarily cut the bleeding, told to rest at which point I told them in ten days I was about to set off for a little stroll...
I was told in no uncertain terms to think very carefully about possible repercussions as they couldn't be sure the bleeding wouldn't worsen.
I went home and cried and ranted at my womb! Not that it listened. I rested. I was a good girl but by God nothing was stopping me escaping to Galicia even if it meant bussing it all the way-I would see the famous summer Solstice sunset at Fisterre on June 21st and maybe one of the many saints who'd gone before me would heal me?
I went and loved every second of it!
I was sensible- Did NOT do the first 30kms on foot and spent the morning in bed in Santiago while my girlfriends set off for a rather long walk. Meanwhile the tempertaures soared and I boarded a bus to our first destination. I even loved the bus ride! I was so happy to be there that even having to lug around plastic sheeting and wearing sanitary towels the size of surf boards did not get me down. The following moring, after all three of us were kept awake by a cacophony of snoring from our fellow hostel dwellers, we decided to rise at an ungodly hour-around 5,30 and set off .I decided I was ready to join just for a short walk.(I sent a video to family and friends to shock them-not the fact that I was walking but that I had actually risen at day break by choice and not under duress) We had many memorable moments-if you haven´t been to Galicia-go! Stunning scenery, lovely people and great food (well, if you are vegetarian it can be slightly challenging ;)) I would intermittently walk, rest, bus it or taxi. Perhaps I was unable to do it in true pilgrim style but actually I felt more of a pilgrim than most, for despite my physical suffering my pleasure at simply being there, and in such great company, overrode any doubts at my decision. In fact, my sanitary towels even came in handy as a makeshift bandage for a terribly painful blister!And so I made it to Finisterre for summer solstice and stood upon that clifftop admiring the most incredible sunset and soaking up the vibes and thanked my body for getting me there in one piece more or less...
Home to rest and still the bleeding continued.Then stopped then started...
Swimming became awkward (I live on the Med and adore swimming and summer without swimming is NOT much fun) I carried on, opened my business, participated in courses, in life in general but slowly found myself fading...
I managed to get to Rototom, admittedly we were all a bit concerned, however I was just going to sit most of the time, rest and help manage the charity stall. I have to admit here-I loved the fsestival, the vibes and would definitely go back but next time without bleeeding in festival toilets and showers in 90 degrees heat.
So finally I had a minor collapse after my return and was put on iron. Though still not warned how serious this was getting...
I noticed my memory and concentration were really deteriorating and then my vision started playing up. I still had no idea of the dangers of acute aneamia and as the hospital hadn't seemed particularly alarmed then I wasn't going to make a fuss either.
Friends and family became alarmed so I finally gave in and returned to the hopital to A&E and decided to exagerate it a little so I would be taken more seriously. Turned out I didn't need to as I finally did collapse, not once but twice! The second time will remain in my mind for a long time to come. More like a scene from a horror movie as I spurted the gyno and her team of four with my life blood. As everything began to fade around me, their voices becoming distant (yes I was even slapped!) I still managed to be fascinated by how much blood I was almost projectile vomiting from my nether regions right at them-a scene even Tarantino would have been proud of!
I was simultaneously pondering on whether I'd have a NDE-something I'd been researching for a while. Actually it was hideous-no tunnels and bright lights and handsome angels telling me it was not my time-just excruciating pain, muscle spasms, shouting and my mum crying in the room next door. So yes, almost three months of serious blood loss, acute aneamia and two blood transfusions later I made it clear, in the words of The Manic Street Preachers-Everything must go!!I am not going to tell the story of the last 8 years and two other gynaecological operations here but needless to say I was at the end of my tether with my lady bits. I wanted it all out. Of course I was in no fit state for an opeartion at that point and was told I needed a minimum three month recuperation period before I could be operated in order to recover from the anaeamia. Iron and B12 became my best friends. I had three injections over a three month period to stem the flow of Oestrogen, provoking a chemical menopause-which stopped the bleeding finally. After some vague concerns over menopausal symptoms-obviously preferable to bleeding to death-I found many great supplements and herbal tinctures which helped enormously and I began to feel incredibly well and so pleased to never have to see a surfboard sized sanitary towel again!
Finally seven months after it all began I had my operation. Now, after all those hideous experiences I was taking no chances. I prepared myself mentally with hypnosis, went to yoga classes and continued with my Iron, B12, Agnus Castus, CBD oil, Aloe Vera juice and super smoothies just to name a few to ensure I was going in fighting fit. There were some concerns that there may be some slight complications due to my past interventions but as it turned out they were still able to go ahead and perform a laparoscopic hysterectomy (four incisions in the abdomen) and remove my womb, ovaries and cervix. After so many months of it hanging over my head and unceartainty over the final date of my op I was just hugely impatient to get it over and done with and get on with the recovery. Despite my mental preparation I did have a slight freak out the night before -straightening my hair at 3am in case there was a hunky surgeon- Pre op nerves obviously as I rarely have straight hair...
Another tip-I had a full wax beforehand to avoid unpleasant hospital shaving. I read five (yes five!) books on hysterectomies, long lists of before and afters, what to take to hospital and what to have waiting at home. And so I entered hospìtal with a large overnight bag and a shopping trolley full of all the comforting items to make my stay and recovery as pleasant as possible whilst my father complained that we looked like a band of gypsies. Rose water to cleanse and fresh-ear plugs-lavender oil-natural laxatives-homeopathic arnica-CBD oil-books-music-toiletries-flask of herb tea and the list went on...
It was a tad annoying to realize I recognized just about every hospital employee, surgeon, nurse and specialist- it was time to finally break up this relationship with the hospital and really hope this will be my last intervention either ever or for many years at least! I waved at mr friendly gyno student (he had patted my hand on a couple of painful occasions) greeted all the team who of course I recognized and drifted off...
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