Okay, let’s talk.

It’s Monday morning, 12:02 a.m.  All weekend I kept thinking about what I should do with the blog this week.  Should I write?  Should I ask people to guest post for me?  Should I ignore what’s going on in my life and write about other things?  Should I write about what’s happening?

I decided that I wouldn’t write about it and that I’d ignore it, much like I’ve been doing since last Thursday afternoon.  But now it’s after midnight and I can’t sleep, again, and so I’m writing.  I’m still in the stage of speaking very matter-of-factly about all of this, so it’s probably a good time to write about it as well.

I went to the internist last Thursday.  They did another CT scan, with contrast, and found the same spot on my left lung that was found on a CT scan two weeks ago.  They found two additional spots that were not found on the first CT scan.  The internist says that he believes none of the three areas on my lung are cancerous at this time.

I’ve never written about this, but I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome during my sophomore year of college.  It’s caused problems since then, but I actually thought it was getting much better as recently as the beginning of this year.  Things were happening that made it appear that it had greatly lessened; I thought I was maybe leaving it behind.

I haven’t.  The PCOS seems to have killed an antibody that should be helping me fight off infections, such as the mono and pneumonia.  The internist ordered an immediate ultrasound and, after having an abdominal one that showed problems, I had a vaginal one as well.  Unlike before, when there has only been one or two cysts on one ovary while the other was clean, there are now cysts covering both of my ovaries.  Far more importantly, there are now cysts inside my uterus as well.

What was a syndrome before is now a disease, more specifically Ovarian Disease.

Everything will begin again this week.  I’ll meet with another doctor for a second opinion.  I’ll go on Family Medical Leave Act with my job in case I need to suddenly take an extended time off from work.  They’ll be a biopsy to check for pre-cancerous and cancerous cells.  If they’re there, they’ll be a hysterectomy.  There may be one anyway, just so we can be sure.

He said “If you weren’t 25, I’d order a hysterectomy immediately” and I said “I don’t want that.  I’m 25 and I want babies” and he said “You can’t become pregnant.”  And I cried and my mom cried and she held my hand and now, for the first time since Thursday afternoon, I’m finally crying about it again at 12:21 a.m. on Monday morning.  This is awful.  I don’t want this.  How is this happening to me?  I am 25 years old and they are going to look for cancerous cells inside my body?  I am 25 years old and they say no baby could live inside my body?  I am 25 years old and I watched them mark cyst after cyst after cyst on the screen while the technician said nothing, but patted my arm while tears rolled down my face?

I’ve gone back and forth about whether or not I would say anything about what’s going on.  If I’m going to blog through this, then I have to mention it because I just can’t write post after post, pretending like things are fine when they aren’t.  And I’m not sure if I will blog through it.  I’m not sure that I want anyone to see what a mess I’m going to be as I do this thing.

But if I’m going to talk about it with you, we have to make a deal and I’m not trying to be mean, but listen, we have to make a deal.  I don’t want emails telling me about your third cousin who was told she’d never have a baby and now has three children.  Do I believe that God can heal this?  Yes.  Do I believe He will heal it before I go to heaven?  I don’t know.  That may not be His plan.  And so I don’t us to be deciding that His plan is for me to have babies when I’m having to face a very real reality right now.

Right now, I am facing increasing odds of a hysterectomy which means no babies.  And I need to deal with this however I can and, right now, I cannot deal with hearing one more story about how someone ended up with a baby when I know I very well may not.  Right now, I cannot deal with this at all.  Right now, I’m spending every waking moment trying to fill my days with tasks so that I don’t think about this.  Right now, I’m trying to deal with my insurance and schedule specialist appointments and not cry in the aisle at the grocery store.  Right now, I’m trying to think about the fact that, in a few hours, I need to get up and go into work as usual, that I have another day of going through my life like usual when nothing is the same as it was last Monday morning.  I am twenty five years old. I do not know how to do this.

I do not know how to do this.