There is no other way to really say this, but I would be perfectly fine pretending like last month never happened.
I spent 7 weeks without a washer or dryer that worked, hauling my clothes over to my parents home several times weekly. Thankfully, this has been resolved!
I was denied my surgery by my insurance company. Then I was told I needed to have a surgery to PROVE I needed to have the surgery. I dreaded waiting around for pain that I KNEW was coming, I just never knew when. STRESSFUL.
My hair started falling out. Most people might not notice but when I'm pulling it out in clumps or seeing it all over the bathroom counters and floors, I know it's happening. Apparently a lovely reminder of my gallbladder surgery in October and quite common? Which is fine, except for when it happens to you. So I started wondering if I would be bald this summer after having two more rounds of anethesia!
I cut 4 inches off my hair to make it not seem so bad.
I have an amazing doctor (she delivered Graham and Greg and now specializes...I am so lucky!) who called my insurance company and told them "No way Jose, she needs one surgery and she needs it NOW."
I wonder if a male doctor would have done this?
So after over a year of going into episodes of screaming, doubled over, cannot walk, move pain, trips to the ER and generally feeling like death....I went in for my hysterectomy on February 1st.
I worried myself sick over it.
What kind of incisions I might wake up to, how I would recover afterwards, if people helping would remember to put a bow in Lauren's hair. You know, important stuff. I was wondering if I would feel broken having my uterus ripped out and sweet Dan told me, "Why? It was great when we needed it and now we're done with it...get it out!"
I cried like crazy that morning...surgery is scary. Waking up from surgery is even scarier. I take forever to wake up....(2 hours this time) But really, this went 100 times better than expected, the nurse put the IV in one painless shot (13 sticks with Greg!) and according to the OR room dr.'s, I have some pretty serious opinions about what a skank Ke$ha is.
I was home a little more than 24 hours later. Only 3 tiny scars to prove it! My sweet in laws kept the minis all weekend long. Amazing women friends from my church brought us dinner every night for a week.
The recovery pain was LESS than what I was having to deal with every month. I got caught up on New Girl and Nashville. I did not die. (Whew!) I am so grateful to sweet friends and my mom who stopped by, brought me trashy magazines to read or called to check on me.