October 2010
This morning, my first at home after getting out of the hospital, I got all prettied up. I’m allowed to shower, so I washed and styled my hair. I gave myself a facial, exfoliating those bad chemicals that exude from your pores, residue of strange, strong medicines and drop-dead terror, frustration, horror.
I put on a long flowing sundress I haven’t fit into for fifteen years, but I bought it on a fun trip to Hamilton Cove on Catalina Island and never could bear to throw it out. I found it in the back of my closet while looking for a dress – I needed something without a waistband, because I don’t want anything rubbing against the ten-inch-long line of staples running up my abdomen. It looked so good I put on earrings. And perfume. In a while I’m going for the makeup.
Well, maybe not.
After all the negativity, I want to celebrate, and I rejoice this morning in being alive: a sweet-smelling, optimistic, on-the-road to healthy 56-year old recipient of modern science. My team found precursors to ovarian cancer – cysts that were idling at neutral, revving their motors, ready to pop the clutch and burn rubber into a form of cancer that provides no unique symptoms. You feel bloated? Could be something you ate, or OC. Backache? Arthritis or OC. By the time you figure out what it is, it can be very challenging disease to conquer. Many women do, and I consider them in a special class, above mere humans. I kiss their feet, and wonder if I would have had the strength to join their ranks.
But I didn’t have to, because Mother Nature whispered in my ear that the very intermittent, vague, pinging pain I felt in my right abdomen might be something to look into. So I did, and my doctors took it seriously – well, actually, one medical establishment did (Thank you, Loma Linda University Medical Center) and one absolutely did not. I got a second opinion from a totally different place, different city even. Dr. Goofy said my ovaries were fine and dismissed my fears with a (literal) wave of the hand, saying, “That was probably just something you read on the Internet.” I feel like mailing him my biopsy results.
More later. I’m tired now.
Lynne,
Someone up there LOVES you. We do also. All of us that know you, wish you a speedy recovery…
Lynne, What terrific news. I’m happy and relieved to read that they were able to remove the cysts before they became cancerous.
In terms of Dr. Goofy, unfortunately, this kind of dismissive attitude is not uncommon. The Washington Post runs a series on medical mysteries. One recent one was about a woman with long, thick hair whose head lice went undetected by a number of doctors. It’s not always woman though. One case involved a man with Lyme Disease which a bunch of doctors could not diagnose.
Lynne! By all means keep dancing, and keep kissing the feet of the world!
Me, I would mail those results to Dr. Goofy – we are all here to continue to learn.
Never stop insisting,
Stacey
It’s tempting, Stacey! Thanks for stopping by.
Hi Lynne, I’m so happy for you. I’m sure that there were many prayers sent up. And answered. 2011 will be a very happy and joyful year. Hope to see you soon. Love, Carolyn
What wonderful news, Lynne! It’s great to hear that our prayers were answered, and you’re on the path toward a more happy and healthy YOU! Good for you, keeping on your toes and insisting your doctors uncover the reason for your pain. More women (men, too!) should be so persistent. Enjoy your rest and just know we’ll welcome you back with open arms when you feel ready again!
This is the best news ever. Congratulations Lynne, listening to and following that still small voice is not easy. I love you for sharing this journey with me. Has the color in your eye glass lenses shifted a shade or two with this?
Get plenty of rest while enjoying these beautiful California fall days. The emotional turmoil should not be underestimated.
I know you’re OVER THE RAINBOW!!!!
Congratulations – so happy for you
Funny line about Dr. Goofy. Reminds me of when I went to the DR to talk about the atrocious hot flashes I was suffering with and advised him that I would not take hormones. He patiently explained to me why that’s exactly what I needed, and “Why don’t you just be a good girl, and take your hormones”? Couldn’t believe what I was hearing – just incredulous. What can I say – lots of Dr. Goofeys.
Arlene