The Case of the Homicidal Gonad (and everything else)

This is shaping up to be a craze-ay week.  I’m eyeballing the energy drinks that are hanging out on the kitchen table, as I’m afraid that’s the only way to get this old body moving.  It definitely isn’t one of my brightest ideas, but I need something similar to jet fuel for a boost.  I had urgent consults with gyn and GI put in while I was kicking around the ER for 8 hours on Thursday.  I’ve got dialysis on Wednesday, and a follow-up with my pcm so I can smack him silly.

ovaries

I was discharged from the hospital after a hemorrhagic ovarian cyst rupture and ovarian torsion, as we (me and the mouse in my pocket) know.  We also know the fact that this wasn’t investigated surgically is questionable practice at best (when I transferred out of the ER, surgery WAS the plan.  I accepted this idea wholeheartedly).  I’ve yet to find anything that wouldn’t indicate the necessity of at least exploratory laparoscopic surgery.  I know surgery sucks, and it’s not something I look forward to, but I’ll be damned if I don’t want this rotten Cadbury cream egg ripped out immediately.  It fucking hurts.  And now Easter candy is forever ruined for you.

This morning I saw the gyn, she looked at my shitty non-contrast CT, read the ultrasound report, my discharge summary, and then ordered another ultrasound that she did on the spot.  While we discussed birth control for the long term prevention of more hemorrhagic cysts, as well as for the treatment of my brutal menorrhagia, she feels there’s no way in hell I should have been discharged without getting that shit fixed.  She wanted me booked for surgery by the end of the day.  As in, thrown into the back of an ambulance and transported to FBCH with a confirmed OR slot.  Against her advice, she agreed to postpone until Thursday (the only day I don’t have another appointment), providing that if I feel an increase of pain or feel faint, I go directly to the ER.  Or better yet, call an ambulance so I get fast-tracked.  I’ll have time to do pre-admission stuff like talking to the anesthesiologist and pre-surgical fasting so I’ll be less likely to harf into my lungs while I’m under, discuss the von willebrand shit that may have an impact on how they plan to proceed, have plenty of time to freak out about the fact that they’ll be poking around in my guts again, and I can also make it to my extremely important GI consult.  The bleeding will likely continue to get worse the closer it gets to shark week (when all of the vessels down there dilate to get ready for the big endometrial purge).  Being that I’m a touch better than profoundly anemic, I can’t really afford to lose much more blood without consequence.  I’m rather lucky that this has been an insidious thing, rather than outright catastrophic.  In short, this ovary is legitimately trying to kill me.

Not cool.

GI is tomorrow, which will be a big, long discussion about drugs for Crohn’s and the destruction of the temperate forests just so I can wipe my keister 500x/day.

images

Another annoying thing (I feel like an infomercial “but wait, there’s more!”), is the large cyst in my left kidney that doesn’t quite fit the criteria for being a simple cyst, so that will need to be exhaustively evaluated with haste.  And my left kidney is supposed to be my “good” one.  Sonofabitch.  Hopefully it’s just a simple cyst that’s dressed up for a party.  What’s up with all of these cysts?  They’re frickin’ everywhere.  Liver, kidneys, ovaries, subcutaneous, and my brain is probably just one giant cyst waiting to explode.

Updates will probably be sporadic, and hopefully off the topic of health as I’m recovering and attempting to focus on things that are less likely to make me lose my mind, such as finishing my fuzzy rainbow scarf, terrorizing the denizens of Azeroth with my Demon Hunter, preparing for travel, and binge watching season 3 of Veronica Mars (Have you seen this show?  So many puns!  Oh, it’s heavenly!).  We could all use a break from my bullshit, but I’m not making any promises because I’m as prone to verbal diarrhea as I am to actual diarrhea.

Thanks for the love and support!

 

21 thoughts on “The Case of the Homicidal Gonad (and everything else)

    • I’ve been thinking about worms since you said this. I’m honestly terrified. Worms! I hate worms! How do those infectious diseases people deal with that nasty shit? If I have worms, I’m jumping into a fire.

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  1. Hmph, well I was never a cream egg person any way….but those mini eggs, I think they may be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth. Fingers crossed, break a leg, best wishes and kindest regards…. or whatever phrase you’re supposed to use before someone heads off for such a ridiculous week of surgery, tests and other doctor shizznit. I hope you are able to find some answers, have a hassle free surgery and a speedy recovery…. and not just because we all need you here to cheer up our days. xoxo

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    • Cream eggs are weird, huh. I’m fascinated by the filling. It takes some kind of crazy chemical engineering magic to keep the filling colors separate. Peanut butter eggs! That’s where it’s at.

      Thanks! Manchild usually tells me to have a nice trip, and not to kiss the anesthesiologist. 🙂

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  2. Ahhh fuckn hell woman … you’ve completely ruined easter for me!! … until i get over it, coz its all about me, i suggest you get your shit together (see what i did there!!) and get better! xoxo

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      • LOL well, its too late, you’ve ruined it now! However, you are lucky I found these (well the pic of them anyway … just waiting for them to sold here … bloody hell, curse being at the bottom of the world!) … hopefully you can see them :

        Coz i don’t think peanut butter eggs are going to do it for me 😉 any eggs actually .. i think you may have put me off eggs for life … but I do hope your eggs are alright 😉

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