This isn't so bad...
Feels kind of good actually, all woozy, floaty and dreamy...echoes...
Oh fuck! Am I dead?! Where am I?
Why are there dead people wrapped in christmas napkins, stuffed in the dustbin? And actually, how do they fit in the dustbin? Is this like Alice in wonderland or Gulliver's travels? Has everyone shrunk?
And wtf is Donald Trump doing, visiting the ward?Why is he in Denia, Spain? Oh no! Maybe I am dead and I'm in hell paying for my sins?
I peer under the sheet. Jesus! I'm pregnant! How can I be pregnant when they just removed my womb? OMG maybe they replaced it with a pregnant lady womb! But isn't that impossible? Nothing really makes sense anymore...
Ah thank god that awesome floaty feeling has returned again...
"Señora, señora! Estás bien? Cómo te encuentras?" Jesus! The floaty feeling is fading and the pain is excruciating and a 12 year old nurse is calling me señora instead of señorita.
"Hostia! Me duele! Y no veo mi coño! Qué pasa con esa barriga enorme??" (best not translate that bit)
It turns out they filled my belly with gas as part of the laparoscopic procedure so now I have this helium filled football for a belly not to mention intense pain and discomfort...
Bring me drugs and oxygen now!
Beeping machines and murmuring voices lull me back into a woozy state of bliss...
The next time I open my eyes, he himself is there, captain bliss (no, this is not some sort of dodgy post op sexual fantasy, that really is his name) standing before me yielding a large bunch of flowers and mum is fussing with my bedding. I'm still wondering about Trump and the dead people wrapped in christmas napkins...
I may have mentioned in part one that I read lots of books on this operation and the side effects including most importantly a surgically induced Menopause-yes Men-o pause...some will probably be heaving a great sigh of relief at that, Zoe taking a pause from men, but believe me a surgically induced menopause is a HUGE shock to the system and not much fun!
I also don't remember anyone mentioning the bit about my ovary sticking to my bladder and the ensuing chaos that would cause...the stitches...the catheter...I'm definitely coming back as a man in my next life.
I was in hospital for about 3 or 4 days or was it 5? Felt like forever but I do remember not being allowed to leave till I had passed my first post surgery poop. I sat for one hour, yes a whole hour speaking to my bowels, pleading with them to cooperate so I could finally leave the hospital...come on, you can do it, just expel your little brown friend and we can get out this joint.
So finally, me and my catheter (aka my long plastic penis placed in a supermarket shopping bag) were able to leave the hospital, looking rather odd. There I was in a wheelchair, wearing my mum's kimono and big baggy bloomers, large sunglasses, walking stick and big black boots, a cross between something like lady gaga and a dominatrix; any remnants of dignity were long gone.
I clutched my big bag full of drugs and prescriptions not to mention my list of instructions: No laughing or sneezing or lifting, or 'ilfing' for 11 weeks! The 'ilfing' was the 11 weeks rule, not the laughing or sneezing thank god, I mean life is tough enough without not being permitted to laugh on top of all that pain!
I was truly glad to be single at this point; I mean a helium filled football belly, a long plastic willy hanging between my legs carried around in a shopping bag, uncontrollable hot flushes (or flashes as some people call them) I really could not ever imagine wanting anyone of the opposite sex near me again...
Family and friends rallied around helping me with everything, no lifting etc etc doing the wrong thing could cause irreversible damage and believe me I did not want anything 'falling' out that wasn't supposed to!
It was rather nice to be forced to rest, read, watch endless Netflix etc but it also required tremendous patience...
15 days with a catheter was not much fun, just adding to my discomfort and pain, but what a huge relief when I could pee normally again. Certainly makes you thankful for the small things, like being able to pee normally!
January is a good month to be operated, short days, long nights, sleeping, reading, hobbling, watching films and documentaries, wondering when or if I'd ever get my body back again.
It had never occurred to me that I might actually feel some grief and mourn the extraction of those lady organs, Womb, ovaries and cervix. I mean, I'd already been sterilised (that's another story, yes you guessed it -I was the one in a million that went horribly wrong and needed a second op to rectify it!) Me and my body like to keep the doctors/surgeons on their toes...
So, yes, no more kids had already been resolved along side my dissolved fallopian tubes so why mourn? Those f*****s had given me some serious shit over the years and yet they had also blessed me with two beautiful daughters...bit of an emotional rollercoaster this surgery malarky...
I've got to be honest, despite feeling like a bloated hormonal whale, it was nice being pampered and cared for, for a change: Being a lone parent family for a large part of my life, I was used to being a full time carer (though I do hear about many women with husbands/partners where this is unfortunately the norm too!) A combination of CBD oil (fabulous stuff, don't believe the hysterical hype from non believers) lavender oil, Soy isoflavones, red clover and peppermint oil were just some of my saviours and they really worked! And then there was the fabulous female physio and her great exercises and erm, 'machine' thingy to help retrain my internal muscles
Later on, yoga, meditation and some partying and fun all confirmed that I had survived the ordeal!
I can report that there is certainly life after hysterectomy and no regrets. It IS a big operation, despite what some may make you believe, just because it is the most common surgery for women does not make it a small thing by any means. Be kind to your body and mind, listen to your body and give it time to heal...
It is now almost two years later and despite a very short period of needing some medication, I feel strong and well with no need for HRT at this point just taking care with diet and exercise...
I have the odd hot flush and menopausal Tourettes but hey...
I never did find out how they managed to fit dead people in christmas napkins or wtf Donald Trump was doing in my ward but sometimes best to let sleeping dogs lie as they say...
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