I am scheduled for a hysterectomy and oophorectomy on March 7th. I would be lying if I said I’m not scared. There’s a reason I have been resisting getting the procedure done for so many years, but I am no longer in a position to take the risk of continuing to live with my fibroids. Like I said in a previous post, there is a concern that the larger mass that is causing the swelling of my abdomen is not a fibroid, but rather a tumor that is growing inside my ovary. It could be benign, but it could also be malignant. Either way, there is no way to know without removing it. So I have made up my mind to do the surgery. And yes, I am very scared, but I know I cannot allow being scared to influence me to change my mind.
It’s kind of interesting how I’ve been living so long with large tumors in my stomach that I have come to a point where I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like to not have them. I’ve normalized this abnormal condition to where the thought that I should ever again have a stomach that isn’t swollen full with tumors is hard to imagine and hard to accept as being fitting, deserving and right. Isn’t it ridiculous that I should think I deserve to have tumors growing in my stomach that are so large they require me to drastically alter my life in order to accommodate them? Yet, part of me feels like I don’t deserve to be without this problem. How sad and sick is it to think that it’s somehow a bad thing to be happy at the prospect of a life without an womb filled with tumors that compromise my health and well-being? Why should I believe that I don’t deserve peace of mind, comfort, joy and better health?
As hard as I have been trying for the last several years to improve my life, and as much improvement as I have realized, the fact remains that at my core I have been unwell for many decades. And for the last ten years that unwellness has manifested itself in the form of ugly, hungry tumors that seem determined to eventually kill me.
I can’t keep indulging these sick thoughts that allow me to keep myself in unhealthy situations. I’ve been doing that my entire life, accepting misery and pain as my lot in life, convincing myself that it’s somehow wrong of me to want better and to think that I deserve better than what I have. I have spent my entire life suppressing myself, keeping myself down on account of one irrational fear or another. I keep claiming to want more out of life, yet I keep robbing myself of chances to get more out of life. I’ve been running and hiding since I was a child. Here I am now 45 years old. I don’t exactly have time on my side for fulfilling my goals and dreams. And this thing with my stomach, it’s robbing me of precious time and energy. And I have a choice to fix it. I have this chance to get rid of one of the biggest obstacles standing between me and a better, healthier life. Will I choose to listen to voices in my head that want me to believe that freedom from this condition is too special a gift for me?
Yes, I am terrified. Some days I’m more than just terrified; but I have to do this. I can’t succumb to my fears.
Hello, Monica. I tried to comment before but I think it got lost. I can say I know how you feel because I truly do. My parents, siblings, school peers, supposed friends – so many people I trusted have bullied or otherwise been abusive to me all my life and many days, I still believe I don’t merit better treatment. I’ve been crushed and crushed my own dreams and wants for more. I know the blackhole, irrationality of depression and the suffocating weight of fear. Last doctor check, my 2 fibroids are now 3 large tumors. Nothing dangerous, thankfully, but I’m petite usually, so I look very pregnant. It’s humiliating. My mother is embarrassed when we’re out together and someone asks about her ‘gran to be’. There’s no hiding this thing. I’m almost used to it, but it still hurts when people laugh at me and say: “Yeah right, she’s not pregnant”. Due to anemia, my own surgery may be in May, or if possible, after June when my best friend is back from vacation. Have to get the blood count up high enough. I hope the Internet won’t steal my comment this time. If you’d like, you email me and we could talk some more. Meantime, I hope you’re getting enough sleep and rest. Thanks for sharing your story. I was feeling alone in this extreme state of being. Stay hopeful. It’s all we can do.
Hi Dana, thank you for your comment. I know how humiliating it is to walk around looking pregnant when you’re not. It was the hardest thing for me to deal with. I just wasn’t ever able to accept it, yet I lived with it for so many years. I guess for me it was easier because I don’t go out very much, and I don’t know anyone outside of the people I live with. So I didn’t worry too much about people I didn’t know who didn’t know me, but I still felt very self conscious and embarrassed about my appearance whenever I did go out. I suppose it will be nice to not have to worry about that anymore; but I’m reluctant to look forward to that. I just want to clear this giant hurdle of the surgery on Monday.
Good luck getting your anemia under control.
Hi Monica. How did your surgery go? Thank you for sharing your experience.
Hi, surgery went well. I am actually lying in hospital bed writing this response. About to attempt to write an update using my phone.
Hi,
I have just found your blog. I have a large fibroid, but I am obese and learned of it by MRI. I am scheduled for a hysterectomy, but meanwhile investigating all my options.
Thank you for sharing your experiences.