I haven’t talked about health stuff in awhile. Mainly, because there was not much new to share. I have endometriosis. The pain comes and goes. The cysts in my ovaries are there to stay. The bleeding waxes and wanes. I’m not pregnant. Blah blah blah.
Well, last Friday, a little excitement decided to re-introduce itself.
At about seven something in the morning I was just laying in bed minding my own business. Actually, I was asleep when I was rather rudely awakened by the sensation of my right ovary and bladder being ripped out of my body without anesthesia. Or being stabbed with a hot poker. Yeah, that’s it; being stabbed with a hot poker, because I felt stabbing pain, and a blanket of intense heat running across my lower abdominal area. I couldn’t breathe and could barely talk. I was dizzy and so very nauseous. Luckily, L had just left for work, so I called him and told him to come home immediately. He found me less than coherent on our bathroom floor in a ball. He asked me if I needed to see my doctor. I said, “Forget the doctor, call 911.”
Having survived the perils of endometriosis, I like to think I know pain pretty well. I have been to the E.R. on a couple of occasions, and writhed on the ground plenty of times. However, this was a sensation I have never felt before. I knew something was very wrong. I also knew there was no way I could walk to our car. My heart was beating out of my chest, and I was a hot mess.
It’s all still a blur. L taking my pulse while on the phone with a 911 dispatcher. Somehow snapping on my bra, because I might be dying, but I’ll be damned if I have a nip slip. The paramedics asking me about my pain. One of the paramedics saying, “Now what exactly is endometriosis?” Me wanting to punch him in the nards. Neighbors watching me being wheeled into the ambulance on a gurney, looking half dead, but not giving a flying fuck. It is amazing what crazy pain does to you. You just don’t give a shit.
So, after an exhausting all day stint in the E.R., being offered a lot of morphine, and having every Tom, Dick, and Harry take a nice long look at my hooha, I was diagnosed with ovarian torsion. Basically, my ovary decided it wanted to dance and twisted on itself and untwisted. Lucky for me it untwisted, because if it didn’t, I would have needed emergency surgery to try and save my ovary. It turns out that if your ovary twists on itself and cuts off its blood supply, you are in grave danger of losing it. Ovarian torsion is rare. The risk of it is increased with pregnancy or if your ovaries are larger than normal for any reason such as with fertility treatments, cysts, etc. My ovaries are slightly enlarged due to my endometriosis cysts, so that could be one reason why it happened. Effing awesome.
The good news is that I have been on bed rest, and I am feeling better. The bad news is that it can happen again. I don’t know the likelihood of it happening again, but it’s a possibility. I have been ordered to “take it easy” and not do yoga or any contortionist-type moves for the time being. Damn. There goes my dream of running away with Cirque du Soleil.
Health issues are exhausting. At this point, I am just grateful that I am okay, and my organs (as far as I know) are intact. I am trying not to think about how scared my entire family was, and am trying to focus on feeling better.
Now, more importantly, I can check “Ride in an ambulance” off my bucket list. Good times.