The Post-Op appointment

I spent three days lying horizontal on the couch after my surgery.
Sitting up was a nightmare.

As soon as the air rose up in my stomach my diaphragm would spasm and sharp pains would shoot across my shoulders and abdomen. I would gasp in air with tiny incremental breaths. A heat pack was my only reprieve.
My belly was bruised and swollen, my throat still sore from the rough intubation. I could hardly swallow.

The news of my endometriosis was slowly sinking in. My mind was trying to be stoic in its acceptance, but my heart lay shocked and broken.

A few weeks later we found ourselves back in the doctor’s office.

Sweaty palms.

Anxious heart.

Waiting for the bad news.

This was becoming a regular occurrence in our lives.

Dr.B welcomed us and we sat down AGAIN on the light purple bench.

He gave me a sad nod and pulled up the pictures from my surgery. It looked like a war zone. All you could see was scar tissue and blood.

The doctor explained that NORMALLY when they pop that little camera in through your belly button and into you abdomen that they can see your uterus floating freely…..swaying in the wind. They usually also see the rest of your abdominal organs.

Me? Well you could see NOTHING except scar tissue.

This of course had turned into a nightmare for the doctor (though he didn’t quite word it that way….but I knew). He was hoping to do a quick “lap”. Pop in, flush my tubes, do a quick drill to my ovaries and then visualise my uterus.

He was hoping for a 20 minute procedure.

Instead it turned into an hour and a half of him cutting through the war zone in a desperate attempt to even see my ovaries. He finally hacked a visible path and was able to drill a couple little holes in my left ovary but the right ovary was covered by a HUGE chocolate cyst (endometrioma) which he attempted to drain.

After cutting through more scar tissue he got to my tubes and flushed some dye through the best he could. He also figured out why my uterus was so “retroverted” (tipped backwards)…… was fully stuck (adhesed) to my bowel.

I forced myself to swallow my emotions. “So what now?” I asked.

He looked at me sadly again.

“Well, I think that further surgery would be too risky. All of your organs are involved with scar tissue and there could be a lot of damage if we try to remove it. I think your best option is to do IVF.”

I blinked back tears and nodded with pseudo-stoicism.

“I know this is a difficult and expensive decision” he said gently, “so just take some time to think about it. Enjoy your Christmas and once you’ve decided come back and see us in the New Year.”

I nodded again. This sounded like a reasonable plan. I needed some time to think about it.

He shook our hands as we left the office and kindly wished us good luck.

The drive home was solemn….AGAIN.

We were living in a  Bad news – déjà vu- never ending loop from hell. That’s the only way I can describe it.


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