Well, loyal so-and-sos! As most of you know, in just two days I will no longer have a uterus. Which means that:
1. I will no longer have periods.
Translation: I will no longer spend seven days of every month gushing blood and other grossness. I will no longer RUIN ALL THE UNDERPANTS. I will no longer clutch my abdomen in pain from the bullshit cramps that every woman is rewarded with when she chooses not to house a baby in her womb every single month of her reproductive life.
2. I will no longer need pap smears.
Translation: I will no longer need a complete stranger to jam an ice-cold speculum into my vajay, crank it open, and scrape cells out of it on the regular. I will no longer have to worry about those cells being cancerous, pre-cancerous, mostly cancerous, a little bit cancerous, or maybe possibly cancerous.
3. I can no longer get pregnant.
Translation: I will no longer have to have those awkward “uh… husband?” conversations that precede a panicked run to Target for a pack of pregnancy tests. I will no longer have to make excuses to my son about why he doesn’t yet have a baby brother (there’s no interest in a sister.) I will no longer have to pull and pray.
And I am MORE THAN FINE with all of that.
I am also MORE THAN FINE with the fixer-upper jobbie they’re going to do on my *other* down there parts. I can’t wait to be able to do such luxurious and indulgent things as a) hold in my pee, b) not pee my pants, c) stop leaking pee, and d) poop without drama.
I am also MORE THAN FINE with not having to deal with my own pubic hair for once:
But the thing that I AM THE MOST FINE WITH is the fact that YES! OUR INSURANCE APPROVED THE MEDICAL NECESSITY OF THIS PROCEDURE AND WILL IN FACT BE COVERING IT. Hoorah! Hooray! Huzzah! O frabjous day! And other things people say on the Internet!
So yeah. Surgery Wednesday. And all of my pre-op testing is complete. By the way, the pre-op stuff (the ominous “bladder testing” I mentioned in my last installment) was HORRIBLE. Like so horrible that I actually don’t even want to go into it too much. Let’s just say it involved:
1. More than an acceptable number of catheters. (More than 0 is unacceptable.) Also, one of the catheters went in my butthole.
2. Electrodes taped in places where there may or may not have been pubes. Which were later ripped mercilessly out of my skin.
3. Having my bladder repeatedly filled up with water. COLD WATER. COLD, EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE WATER. And being forced to do stupid things like “hold it,” “cough,” “cough harder,” and “do the thing like you’re about to poop.”
Anyway, it was all very traumatizing and I’m glad it’s over. At least I’ll be anesthetized for most of the yucky and undignified things yet to come. MOST of them. I’m not under any real delusions about the privacy of my hoo-ha and poop chute in the coming week or two.
So. My apologies if this installment of the “pelvic organs? come on down” series seems a bit slapdash. It really kind of is. I’m scrambling to get all the shit done that I need to do before the surgery, I slept a whopping three hours last night, and my mother is about to pull in the driveway after an 8-hour car trip. The next installment will be better, and both super gross and totally informative. I promise.
On that note: I’m obviously going to be out of commission over the next two weeks, so I won’t be posting for a while. But guys? DO NOT WORRY. I’ve totally got you covered. I’ve lined up two weeks’ worth of hilarious guest posts from a bunch of talented bloggers and friends, including:
- Peyton Price from Suburban Haiku
- Brooke Takhar from missteenussr.com
- Megan from The Hollywood Sigh
- Kelly Fox from Foxy Wine Pocket
- Chris Dean from pixie c.d.
- and my own personal friend My Girl A!
And guys? Listen up. My guest bloggers put in their valuable time and gave up their original comic material to bring est.1975 the funny. So do me a favor and bring *them* your love. Read. Comment. Share! We will all appreciate it.
Wish me luck and see you on the flip flop!
Interested in reading more of this series? Follow the yellow brick links!
Post 1: Diagnosis: Prolapse
Post 3: The Wide Wide World of Pre-Op