pelvic organs? come on down! (part 2 of 4)

Welcome back to the est. 1975 “pelvic organs? come on down!” series, in which I discuss the ins and outs of female pelvic organ prolapse (also known as The Gynecological Great Escape or MY GIRL PARTS ARE FALLING OUT OF MY BODY.) If you’re just joining us, you can read the first installment here.

WARNING: This series of posts tackles some fairly gory details of some fairly gory girl business. I promise you’ll learn a lot if you read along, but if you’re squeamish, you may want to bail now before you end up doing one of these:


Basically what I’m saying is this: if reading about medical stuff and/or lady parts makes you gag like a drag queen, you might want to skip this one.



The loyal so-and-sos among you have been wondering what’s been going on with my girly bits since last we spoke.

Well. The main thing is that I’ve finally gone ahead, hitched up my big girl panties, and scheduled the date for my hysterectomy and pelvic reconstruction surgery. As of right now, everything’s going down on May 14th… or should I say everything’s getting jacked back up on May 14th?

*har har chuckle snort*


Regardless, May 14th is when it all gon happen.

Of particular interest to y’all has been whether or not our family’s health insurance is going to pay for this surgery. The answer is: I still don’t know, and I won’t know until one week before the procedure is scheduled to take place. Which is just AWESOME, because I for sure don’t want to plan my life and finances around possibly having to shell out eleventy billion dollars for this shit. No, I like to fly by the seat of my urine-soaked pants when it comes to that kind of stuff.


For those of you just joining in, the reason I’m not sure whether our health insurance will cover the procedure is because apparently this kind of surgery is considered “elective” by some insurance agencies. It’s their stance that this is a procedure I don’t absolutely need to have, and that I can easily live without it. I guess it’s a lot like the attitude they take with most cosmetic surgeries, or LASIK.

I mean, technically it’s true. I *can* live without this surgery. I can live until I’m 90 years old without it. It’s not like this procedure is going to correct some drastic problem with my breathing or my heart or my digestion or my neurological function. It’s merely a “quality of life” concern, in that I prefer not to spend the next fifty years of my life:

  • Being unable to completely empty my bladder, resulting in awkward “Excuse me but I’ve just peed my pants” moments whenever I cough, sneeze, fart, laugh, gag, barf, blow my nose, bend over, walk, run, exercise, have sex, do anything, or exist;
  • Straining like all hell whenever I pee, resulting in OH MY GOD I HAVE BUTTHOLE CANCER persistent and painful hemorrhoids;
  • Leaking urine constantly, leaving my “down there” parts feeling and smelling like a damp bog;
  • Living with what amounts to a perpetual urinary tract infection;
  • Having to take stool softeners all the time, which can lead to everything from I’MA KICK YOUR ASS! diarrhea to the dreaded OH SHIT! IT’S A SHART;
  • Settling for a sex life that I would now classify as “essentially frictionless” because my vagina is so saggy and blown out; and
  • Feeling like I have a super-absorbency tampon crammed in my hoo-ha AT ALL TIMES, even though I don’t. (Interesting side note: I haven’t actually been able to use tampons in years. My bulging bladder, uterus, and rectum just push them right back out. The more you know.)

“Elective” surgery indeed.



Anyway, I’ll keep you updated on the insurance situation as I learn more. For right now I thought I’d take some time to explain exactly what my surgery is going to entail, and in order to do that, I’m going walk you through a list of procedures that my urogynecologist will be performing on the big day. Don’t worry if the medical terminology makes no sense to you, because I’m here to translate it into plain English. You know me. I’m all helpful like that.

Here’s the list:


Looks completely uninterpretable, right? Don’t worry. You’ll be an expert on pelvic reconstruction surgery when I’m done with you. Now let’s do this!

(Warning: some of the following links have NSFW medical diagrams. Proceed with caution.)

  1. SCH.

Medical Terminology: Laparoscopic Supra-cervical Hysterectomy

Plain English: You know the phrase “she’s got a bun in the oven?” This is the part where the surgeon goes ahead and disconnects my oven. And cuts it up into very small pieces. And takes it out of my body through my abdomen. And burns it.

  1. ASC.

Medical Terminology: Abdominal Sacral Colpopexy

Plain English: This is where the surgeon shores up my lady bits by taking the very end of my vaginal canal and using surgical mesh to hitch it to the very end of my backbone. (This is not, I repeat NOT, the same thing as in those scary TRANS-VAGINAL MESH KILLED MY VAGINA commercials you see on daytime television. Not that I ever watch daytime television or anything. *cough*)

  1. Paravaginal Repair.

Medical Terminology: Laparoscopic Paravaginal Repair

Plain English: This is where the surgeon restores my bladder and urethra to their normal positions by attaching them to my pelvic side-walls. Basically the doc’s just putting my pee-making machinery back where it should be.

  1. TVT.

Medical Terminology: Tension-free Vaginal Tape Procedure

Plain English: This is where the surgeon places a mesh tape or sling (but again, NOT the dreaded TRANS-VAGINAL MESH OF DOOM) under my urethra to provide it some additional support. This step will help put the smack down on my perpetual incontinence.

  1. Rectocele Repair.

Medical Terminology: Rectocele Repair

Plain English: This is where the surgeon pulls together the stretched or torn tissue in The Land of Where My Rectum Insists on Bulging into My Vagina. This helps strengthen the vaginal walls to keep the prolapse from reoccurring.

  1. Perineoplasty.

Medical Terminology: Perineoplasty

Plain English: Plastic surgery for my veejay. That’s right. This is the part where they make my girl parts SEXY, SUPER TIGHT, AND SMOKIN’ HOT AGAIN.


  1. Cysto.

Medical Terminology: I’m not 100% positive, but I’m pretty sure my doc is just using shorthand for “cystoscopy” here.

Plain English: A cystoscopy can be done for any number of reasons, but I think in this instance it’s just referring to the fact that the surgeon is going to give me a catheter until I can pee again on my own.


So that’s that. Do any of you loyal so-and-sos have any questions? If you do, feel free to leave them in the comments and I’ll get to them as soon as I can. No guarantees on the accuracy of my answers, though. Do I look like I have a post-graduate degree in ‘giners? (Don’t answer that.)

Stay tuned for Part 3 of this series when I discuss my first pre-operative appointment which apparently can take up to two hours and is vaguely and somewhat ominously referred to as “bladder testing.”

Till then, head over to my sidebar and subscribe for email notifications SO THAT YOU NEVER MISS A SINGLE HILARIOUS WORD I EVER SAY. Also, take a stroll over to pixie c.d. and check out the clever, awesome, brilliant guest post I did about the first time I smoked weed. And while you’re there, take a look around. It is a vair vair funny blog. I promise.




Interested in reading more of this series? Follow the yellow brick links!

Post 1: Diagnosis: Prolapse

Post 2: How to Fix Dem Sagging Girl Parts

Post 3: The Wide Wide World of Pre-Op

Post 4: Pain and Catheters and Constipation, Oh My!

21 Replies to “pelvic organs? come on down! (part 2 of 4)”

    1. HAHAHA. I don’t actually know if it’s going to be super tight and smoking hot. Like Miss Bianca del Rio says: I have to “CALM DOWN, BEYONCE.” But I have high hopes!

  1. Girl. That is just crazy. I hope all goes well and that the insurance company realizes living pee-free is not elective; it’s kind of necessary.

  2. Is it wrong to “like” this post? Firstly, I am truly sorry you must undergo this cutting up, yanking, sewing together and such. Secondly, while your’e in there, be sure to ask for lots of warm blankets and plenty of lovely pain killing drugs. Going under is the best part. Thirdly, I hope your insurance covers this — and they better. And finally, I sort of wish I could go with you and have a perineoplasty because that sounds awesome in the long run. The sexy, super tight, smoking’ hot part. Oh what we all wish for three kids later.

    1. It is never wrong to “like” a post I write 🙂

      Yeah. I have high hopes for the perineoplasty too. I’m a little worried they’re *too* high, if you know what I mean. I’m imagining a sixteen-year-old snizz.

  3. I agree with Lisa! I want to “like” this post more than anything but feel way guilty. Is it so bad I am chuckling at your poor shall we say “affliction”? Anyway, I like it, I love it and can’t wait to hear more about it!

    1. I’ve been saying that for a long time, Ash. GET READY FOR GROSSNESS:

      See, the thing about a uterus and a bladder and a rectum is that they’re all soft and squishy. Which means, when they invade my vaginal space, my husband can’t really tell much of a difference during sex. It’s still warm and squishy and soft and that works great for him.

      I’ve been saying for years that if prolapse involved great detriment to men in the form of SEX THAT HURT THEM or perhaps even NO SEX FOR THEM AT ALL we would be seeing a lot more about this in the news. A lot more drugs. A lot more treatments. A lot more precautionary measures. And certainly insurance would cover it all!

  4. I am new to your blog, you can Thank Chris Dean. But I adore your sense of humor. Let me first say how sorry I am your going thru this. But it sounds like laughter is keeping you sane. That’s the best medicine.
    Second, I too have an “affliction” of the hoo- haa! I have Crohns disease, 23 yrs now. I was diagnosed with rectal/vaginal fistulas. I thought there was 1 ….. but hell no there are 3 ! I am having a hell of a time getting my ins to pay for fistula repairs. They did try to fix the first one back in the mid 90’s. I even had a temporary ostomy. But it didn’t work. But I have been reading a lot more about new ways of repairing them. So I kinda understand where your coming from. But since the failure of prior surgery, which I was on a shit ton of Prednisone, the devil drug and the culprit of my fistulas. Now I have been off of Prednisone for over 2 years now. The ins company and surgeons feel they may do “More damage” than a quality repair. But I learned something new from your post today …..urogyno !!! Now I am on a mission! Must find urogyno in the state of Oregon ! I signed up to receive you daily (LOL) so I can keep up with you. Again I’m so sorry but it sounds like you got this shit in the bag ! Sometimes ….. I crack myself up! Ohhhh and I also pee my pants and “Shart” on a daily basis! “Shart Sisters Unite” !!

    1. Prednisone is truly a devil drug. I was on it for two whole weeks for a back problem and in just that time I ATE ALL THE THINGS! and then blew up like a Macy’s Parade balloon. Seriously, I looked like a fat moon.

      Sorry to hear about all of your down there problems! Good luck in your search for a urogynecologist!

      Love, your Shart Sister

  5. You are so freaking brave. I have needed to go to the gyno for 13 years and every time I even think about it I have to take a Valium and lay down. Good for you getting this stuff done. Also I can’t believe you even attempt sex. I would feel so uncomfortable with your symptoms I would have yellow crime scene tape from the waist down. I’m praying for a perfect, insurance covered surgery and a pain free ( with the good drugs) recovery.

    1. Hey Valerie! Nah, not brave, just sick of living like an incontinent old woman.

      Girl, I need sex. My husband needs sex. WE MUST HAVE OUR SEX! Anyway… it doesn’t hurt. It’s just not as er… stimulating as it used to be. 😉 I’m hoping that improves a bit after the surgery.

      Thanks for your prayers! Also… go to the GYN. You need to be getting a pap smear and breast exam every year. I was lucky to have been diagnosed early on with what would have ended up as cervical cancer if I’d let it go. But I had it treated and all is well. Also, I know so many people who have caught breast cancer early on. Women don’t have it easy in this world with cancer and their girl parts. GET TO THE DOCTOR! (If a Valium is needed, take a Valium! Talk to your GYN about your anxiety… they might be able to help.)

      Thanks for reading!

  6. So what IS the “transvaginal mesh of doom” actually used for? BTW—I was violated this morning at the gyno with a transvaginal ultrasound.

    1. I didn’t have a procedure using it, and I’m not a doctor, but it’s my understanding that these are used for procedures going in through the vagina, not through the abdomen.

  7. I try never to sit on upholstered furniture. If I laugh, or cough, or sneeze, or stay at the table too long I will soak that shit. The new tangled underpants with built in absorption don’t fit me. Things are super sexy. You are funny.

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