Surgery

The pain is intense, but not as intense as what brought me to this sterile environment in the first place. Loaded with the baggage of past doctors not taking me seriously, and a carry-on of nerves that this new doctor will look at me the same way. Off I went to the main entrance of St. Anthony's in Crown Point. Accompanying me to the surgical waiting area was my mother-in-law and her sister-in-law I know as Aunt Beth. We sit still and quite for a few moments. I remove my contact lenses and store them neatly in my tiny purse. I'm wearing comfortable shoes, swooshie pants, and long sleeved t-shirt. Ready? Not sure. To be opened up delicately with almost invisible scars was the easy part. Hearing bad news when it was all over, the agonizing part. Finally my name is called and I meet with a nurse who helps me put on my heated hospital gown, start my IV, and sign consent forms. The ladies come in soon after I am dressed to give me a few more encouraging words before I'm wheeled away.
My nurses so calm and polite, not like I was used to when trying other hospitals. They all seemed to have my back. They encouraged me just as much as the family I chose to bring with me. The surgical nurse comes in, checks my IV, and announces it's time to go. Waiving goodbye to the ladies I'm whisked away down a long hall and into a room full of bright lights. I was told the anesthesiologist was a cutie by mom-in-law but without my eyes I couldn't tell. He loads me up with what seemed like too much general anesthesia. Don't even remember being asked to count. A few hours later I awake a little disoriented and curious. My nurse tells me I've been out for quite some time and asks me to sit up if possible. She informs me that my doctor has already spoken to the family and to me. I have no recollection of seeing him after my surgery was complete. Then, the bad news. No endometriosis. Surely this doctor will write me off as a nut case like all the others before him. Instead, to my delight, he has told my mother-in-law that he intends to get to the root of my problem and that he doesn't think the pain is in my head. Some of my symptoms, although not all, are attributed to my uterus resting on my colon. Unfortunately the ways of correcting this is worse than not correcting it. But, nonetheless I have one reason for one symptom of my agony. My gracious doctor prescribes pain medication. Relief at last.
I head home after refreshments of grahm crackers and apple juice. Aunt Beth helps me out of the car and up the icy steps of my in-laws home. I take a moment to mourn the thought of no escape for now. I try to lift my own spirits and remind myself that things could be much worse. They've found no cancer. What else could be so joyous? Cancer free, endometriosis free. I suppose these truths should satisfy me at least until I get to see doctor again. December 31st. Perhaps I will have good news to start the new year with? We will see. For now I endure the pain of my surgery as well as the original pain. One day at a time is too big a step for me. I try to enjoy any hour of pain free living. When my pain arrives again, I will strive to look forward to the few times the pain is gone and never give up on a source or treatment.
If you are reading this and feel led to pray for me, I could use all the ones I can get. Thanks.