Tag: mass

Let’s Talk About it: Girl Talk

Deana5 Comments

Content Warning: This post is for women only. Men read at your own risk. I’m talking about girl parts today.

Women are funny creatures, we’ll either spill our guts and tell you more than you ever wanted to know or we become so stinkin’ private it’s a wonder any of us know where babies come from. We are at times polite and modest to a fault. And we are at times honest to a fault. I’m not saying that’s wrong, I’m just saying that sometimes it is helpful to know things beyond who did your hair or how much you hate my new dress.

Case in point. When I went to the hospital last week, I thought something was truly, seriously wrong with me. Turns out that one in four women develop fibroids in their life time. Not to be crass, but you’d think at 44, I’d know what those are.  “Female problems” aren’t something that run in my family. No one has ever had issue beyond early menopause. I am now learning that several of my friends and extended family have lived with fibriods and eventually had hysterectomies, but I didn’t know that last week.

I do know that my Great Grandmother died from cervical cancer at the age of 86 and I know that she’d had a hysterectomy when she was in her 50’s – but the why behind it went to the grave with her. No one knows. Her cervical cancer went undetected because she never had another pap smear after that.

Fibroids were always something women get in their breasts, not… well… elsewhere. And fibroids were something that was maybe the size of a small pea or maybe a quarter, but not so big that I would be deemed the size of a woman in her 22nd week of pregnancy. Having the emergency room doctor describe my new friend as something that “could be a fibroid, could be a cyst, or it could be cancer, we don’t know right now.” Did not help my heart or my over active imagination. I’ll let you guess which word I focused on.

I’ve also learned that they develop over time and that most women live with them until they get troublesome. Mine has reached troublesome. Why no one found it before now, is still a mystery to me.

For those who have been following my health detour, I saw the surgeon today.

Today’s doctor visit went really well. I like my new doctor and my husband even went with me. There were some glitches, like the fact that my primary never sent him my file or the films or the lab results. This after my hounding her office for three days to get them to process the referral in the first place. Typical really of that office.

I’m changing primaries after this is over.

My new doctor is warm and kind, a surgeon, strong women’s health advocate, and practical. He stated that statistics show there is an 80% chance this is just a benign fibroid, that 1 in 4 women get them in their life time and until tests show it to be something else he’ll stick with that diagnosis. He also reserves the right to change his prognosis once all lab results are in. Yes, it seems “big” by my standards but in his line of work he’s “seen worse.”

Another bonus is he saw the humor in my naming it and doesn’t think I’m wierd for doing that at all; at least not to my face.

He seems more concerned by the polyp on my cervix than the mass in my uterus. I didn’t know about the polyp either. Biopsies were taken for both and I’ll know the results when I go back to see him on the 28th.

I have regular female exams, so these things are new occurances this year. I’m not happy about the timeing. Jeff just lost his mom last month, I don’t want to be down right now. We have trips planned and summer arriving. I’m stubborn, and I have work to do.

I’m not sure what lessons are ahead or what I’ll learn from all this, but like it or not, I have down time coming up. Today, I’m learning to accept the gifts that can be found in that.

My question for you guys: How do you handled seemingly forced down times? How hard is it for you to let go of your plans and surrender to what is?

We Have a Referral and I’m learning peace

Deana4 Comments

I can be a bit controlling, especially when I’m scared. My husband will laugh when he reads that and add a “you think?”

I know that control is never a solution to fear, especially not on this side of the Resurrection. But knowing and doing don’t always mesh in my world. We are working on it.

I’ve had three days of phone calls, not only for myself but for my son with epilepsy. I’ve learned through his disorder how to be assertive with doctors and when to follow-up and when to call. D needed a script refilled and for whatever reason, I was the hand holder between the pharmacy and the pediatrician. I’m glad I called it in three days early. It took the full three days to get it refilled. It never takes that long.

My doctor issue really frustrated me. I got frustrated because they were not giving me correct answers. I followed up on Monday like the hospital told me too, and received a call back stating that my referral was being processed and that I should receive a phone call later that day. No phone call came.

Tues: I called back and left a message for the gal in charge. The gal up front read the notes on my file and assured me everything was being processed. No return call came.

Wed: (Today) I called the processing gal directly and was saddened — and slightly angered — to discover she had no clue who I was, and had received no such paper work nor a message that I had called on Tuesday. The gals in the front office did not lie to me — there were notes on my page that indicated a referral was being processed. Sadly it turned out the referral was for the wrong patient. My gal promised to get to work on it right away. True to her word, she did. It took three hours, but I have my referral as promised.

I had a lot of choices this morning. I did succeed in the choice not to lose my temper, and yet still communicate I was angry. I chose to ask to leave a message for my doctor and when I was told that won’t be necessary, I could choose to call the office administrator and speak with them — once my referral was complete. I chose to say a silent prayer rather than speak out what was in my heart at the moment.

Lots of choices. Right now.. I can choose to be happy I have my referral completed. I see a specialist on April 14 at 10 am. I have instructions to call every morning between now and then to see if they have a cancellation.

I know that God does not make bad things happen to people. Things happen because we live in a sinful and fallen world. God is the ultimate hand holder. He holds me in his every day.

I know that he still has plans for me and the phone call from Thelma on monday was all part of that. I talked to her (via email yesterday) and she had no idea I was going through something. We aren’t friends, even though we’ve met. (I hostessed her a couple of years ago) I am however part of You Go Girl. Thelma is someone I intentionally put myself at the feet of to learn. 

The phone call is part of something new she is doing with her You Go Girl mentoring network. It just so happened the devotion on her heart for this month was Jeremiah 29:11. And so together we got to thank God for doctors, modern medicine, and telephones of all things.

So now, I wait some more and know the his plans for me include a future and a hope. And I can rest in that.  And finish my laundry.  It’s kind of piling up.

Let’s talk about plans.  Will you share with all of us a time when your plans and God’s didn’t totally mesh, but his turned out so much better?

Hell in the Hallway

Deana7 Comments

I’ve heard it said that when God closes one door, He always opens another; but it’s hell in the hallway.

I’m in a hallway. A waiting room between finding something inside my body that does not belong, and finding answers. My doctor’s are working on a referral, the referral is working on insurance approval, and I am stuck waiting.

I don’t wait well.

I worry.

I google.

That makes me worry more.

Obsessive/compulsive types who are prone to worry — aka, people like me — should not be allowed to Google. Seriously. There are nasty things on google. Things that talk about survival rates, and stages, and symptoms and …

Oh how I hate the hallway.

This was Jeff’s first Easter without his Mom — he misses her and I worry that I ruined Easter for everyone by going to the hospital.

He had no one to call. And I worry about him.

I’ve decided it’s just a fibroid. A very big fibroid. And I’ve decided that since my white blood count was good, I must be right. Still. I have something that does not belong and I want it to go away.

So, since I have this thing growing inside of me, I decided to name it.

That only seems right. I named it Fred.

Jeff doesn’t like the name Fred and suggested we name it Georgetta.

Should I be worried about that? Laughter.

I told him I was thinking about making a sock puppet named Georgetta.

He didn’t laugh.

Now it’s HIS turn to worry about my coping skills.

I’m coping just fine. I just like it when he raises his right eyebrow up really high and rubs his beard.

THAT is funny!

I hate the hallway.

What do you guys do in the hallway? How do you keep from worrying when you can’t control the situation?

“We Found a Mass.”

Deana11 Comments

 There are words a woman wants to hear and words a woman doesn’t.  “We found a mass,” definitely falls into the does not want to hear category. And yet, those are the very words my husband and I heard at Southcrest Hospital on Easter Morning.

My family and I had planned on spending Easter with my Dad. Instead we wound up leaving church early because I had gotten very ill, very suddenly.  My plan was to ride it out and hope the feeling passed and when it didn’t, I let Jeff take me to the hospital.

I didn’t want to go to the Hospital. I wanted to be home serving Easter dinner. I’d spent all day Saturday cooking for both the people at Ablaze who’d helped with our Egg Hunt, and for our family on Sunday. I hadn’t finished cleaning everything up yet and I wanted to be at home cleaning that up before my Dad came over.  My son was home from college for the weekend, I wanted to be with him, enjoying our time together. I didn’t want to be tired, and in an emergency room waiting on test results.

I’ve been having strange symptoms for a few months now. Mood swings, stomach pain, horrible monthly cycles, and my Dr and I had concluded that I was in early menopause. The thought that maybe I’m depressed had crossed my mind as well, even though it didn’t really seem to fit everything else. Secretly, I was afraid I was going crazy.

The good news is:

I’m not depressed — I really am tired from all the blood loss and whatnot.

I’m not crazy.

I’m not in menopause.

The not-so-great news is, I have a mass in my uterus that is 5x8x10 cm. (about the size of a small orange perhaps.) that is causing all these erratic symptoms.

An unwelcome intruder has been the cause of my distress.

I talk to my regular doctor today and we’ll get the appropriate referrals to a gynecologist. I’ve already self diagnosed this puppy as a fibroid. Those are simple to fix and are not uncommon in women my age.

Even more important than my self diagnosis and stupid jokes I’ve been telling for a day now about errant Easter Eggs, is the phone message I received this morning. A beloved friend called via phone tree and spoke about Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord. Plans not to harm you, but for a future and a hope.”

God has a plan for me, and for my family, and for you my readers. His plans are always better than mine.

My plan, was to be in church, have dinner with my family, and just enjoy the day. His plan involved my getting so sick I had to go to the hospital. Without my getting sick, I wouldn’t know about the mass and wouldn’t be receiving proper medical treatment. His hand is on this, on my family, and on me — praying you see His hand on your day as well.

This post written by Deana O’Hara for Redemption’s Heart. All rights reserved.