March 12, 2016


Our huggable mascot
Let me start by saying thank you.  If I haven't been clear, the amount of love and support and patience and empathy I've received is way out of proportion from what I'm having done.  I'm always conflicted about dragging you into this while I'm incredibly grateful that you're there.  You people are all just the best.  If I ever take that for granted, call me out on such bullshit.

So we're less than a week out from a routine surgery.  There is some comfort in that word and that thought.  A dime a dozen.  So many happen every day, and they've figured them out pretty well by now.  Yes, I'm happy to have a surgeon that has performed hundreds of BSO/total hysterectomies.

But it's hard to go into something like this thinking that there is nothing unique that will stand out about you when you're lying on the table.  This decision seems obvious to any gynecological oncologist, and I know that.  It's anything but routine for me, however.  I don't know how I feel I need that acknowledged to my satisfaction--it's just going to be there.

There will never be a time that I feel I should have had to settle for removing parts because there are no better answers to reduce my risk.  I am removing my female identity piece by piece, and there is a level of loss in that that is about much more than not having the parts themselves.  Yes, I can make light about never having to wear a bra and never having to deal with another period again--they can be pros of this whole process.  But it has taken a lot and will continue to take a lot to find my own femininity and confidence as I go forward.  This particular surgery hits me as a loss of youth, too--I am coming out of childbearing years and into menopause in a day.  This feels like a much bigger leap than I want it to, and I wish I had a sense of where I'd come out on the other side.

I'm sad, I'm mad.  I'm raging and I'm mourning and a little scared.  When I feel that way, I just want to rush through it because it's so uncomfortable.  So that's exactly what you'll find me doing in the next days--rushing around.  Just let me and give me space to.  Yes, I'm stressed out.  Those of you watching and wanting to help, know that nobody has to figure that out for me or try to make me stop--this is my routine to work through the hard stuff.

In the grand scheme of things, this isn't a big deal.  Hopefully I will integrate that into where I'm at and move on, because the rest of where I'm at is good.  Goodnight, village.  Thanks again for letting me live in it and take what you offer to help me move forward.

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