Taking A Personal Day

Photo courtesy of Google Images @ delucainsight.com

 Disclaimer: Homeschool dad's, you may want to move on past this post unless you are married and want to understand the potential reasons your spouse may be driving you insane. 

Alright, Ladies. Let's end the facade and get down to brass tacks. We aren't spring chickens anymore. Time as slowly began to etch its mark into our face. We are tigers that have earned our stripes and with those stripes comes a gargantuan heap of other issues. You know what I'm talking about. Mood swings. Irritability. Hot flashes from the ninth level of hell! Cold sweats that make you wish bed sheets were made of that industrialized absorbent material they use when cleaning up large water spills. Yes, ladies. It has begun. The early stages of menopause. The time when your body decides it is going to go completely haywire and make you look like a fool right in the middle of wherever you are at the time - and without a warning. But rest assured, millions of women have endured the same thing and lived to be a ripe old age (and relatively wiser). I'm no doctor, but I can tell you from personal experience, early-30's is simply too young in my opinion, to be opening that new chapter in life. Between lesson plans, freezer meals, laminating and library visits, one simply does not have the time for hot flashes. And oh, the crying! Are we again toddlers, crying because someone look at us rather funny? Well, yes and no. Of course, we are not toddlers! That is ridiculous. But we certainly do reserve the right to cry whenever we want and without any lip from those around us, and for any reason, too! Why? Who knows. I sure didn't. At least not until I went to the doctor. 

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Since I was 15, I had trouble with ovarian cysts. As I aged, I started a family. After delivering my beautiful babies, I noticed my body was changing in manners to which I could not pinpoint the cause. Each month, I found myself walking on eggshells around my family because I was afraid the beast within would rise up and make me lash out, saying hurtful words. I had never really had an anger issue, but I felt like I was drowning in the apologies I was offering to the people around me. Then the pain started. 

Pain that had me laying in the floor, full-on fetal position and begging for his Holyness to take me! Pain that had me unable to do everyday duties around the house. More than anything: pain that scared me. I visited the local gynecologist and after two ultrasounds, the doctor mentioned the words, "dropped bladder, cysts, possible endometriosis, possible scar tissue and possible adhesions." Hey doc, are you sure there isn't a demon with a soldering iron in there playing some sick twisted version of chutes and ladders?" After discussing the options and knowing I needed this issue resolved, surgery was scheduled. I was told it would be approximately 1.5 to 2 hours, provided there were no complications. I was very aware of the complications that might happen as well as the risk of infection. Sure, I could handle two hours. 

I'll spare you the ugly details and simply say: Follow the instructions for cleansing your digestive system and clear liquids ONLY! After meeting with the anesthesiologist, my doctor again, and that lovely doctor who put happy juice in my I.V., I do not recall a thing. Later, after I was taken to my room, I do believe my husband was extremely worried. I remember moaning and groaning, whining and complaining and being told to hit the button on my pain-drip... but I could not feel my fingers. I couldn't feel my thumbs! Was this normal? Had they cut something they weren't suppose to? 

No. In fact, they had cut exactly what they were supposed to and I should know, right? Who has a 5... (FIVE)... Yep, 5-hour surgery and not recall the facts? Really!? Five hours of lying flat of my back, arms spread eagle and strapped down, pinching every nerve from my wrist to my shoulder. While I really do not remember a thing about the surgery, I was told exactly what caused the extended surgery time. 

My bladder was attached to my colon, my uterus (enlarged twice its size) was attached to my stomach wall, severe endometriosis and lesions, adhesions all over my colon/large intestine and so much scar tissue, my doctor had to call in the general surgeon to dissect my problems sites from healthy tissue that needed to remain in me. Thirty staples later,  where does that leave me now? 

Blissfully recovering, 3 weeks post op, and at 99% my old self, minus the horrid pain I would have already endured had I not had the surgery. And wiser. From now on, when my body is trying to tell me something, I am going to listen. I encourage you to listen to your body. Put down the lesson plans, unit studies and file folder games and listen! You are a superhero-homeschool mom! 

Don't wait like I did. Take a personal day!