more on female medicine

We are now in the beautiful young fall days, saying good-bye to summer, relishing in the cool/warm mixture of early September days with blackberry picking and the fog playing games just off the coast each morning.

I am still struggling with the aftermath of having had what is called a "cold cone biopsy" last spring.  Stayed up way too late last night writing my doc an indignant letter protesting the difficulty presented in attempting to contact him with questions from home.

One goes in for an appointment, has a test, in this case a PAP, asks some questions and is given alarming information.  (In the case of prolapse of the vaginal wall, the doctor's preferred treatment is the surgical removal of one's still healthy uterus).  He also said he would get the test results to me as quickly as possible. I imagined, oh foolish girl, receiving a phone call from the doctor himself.  One receives a generic form in the mail with one little check mark on it stating that another PAP smear is advised in one year, it says if you have any questions, call this number.  You make the long distance call when you can find some time.  It's the general switchboard at the hospital who takes your message and says someone, (certainly not the doctor to whom you'd really like to speak) will call you back.  You stress that you are at work for the rest of the day, not at home.  They call home anyway, leave a message about what you already knew from the check mark and say that if you have any further questions, you can, you guessed it, call this number. .. The same long distance switchboard one.  And round and round we go.  I think I was supposed to be happy and content with that check mark, good news, we don't want to see you again for a year.  Pay us your money and go your merry prolapsed way.  Sure, I'm glad I don't have cancer, but I don't think I ever did.  Unnecessary surgery is a nasty thing, causing anger, which can cause all kinds of residual health problems if not dealt with.  Which is what I am trying to do.

Damn it, 'scuse my French.  This is my body, this is my life, this is my money and my time.  Hence the long night writing an angry letter, which, of course, needed to be edited extensively to try and make it not so angry, not so reactive and yet at the same time, get across my concerns, both of procedural and medical nature.  I did not mention anything in the letter about unnecessary surgery by the way.  I know that in the medical world, the surgery was what was called for after the test results from my PAP and spot biopsies.  I guess I'll never know for sure if my tissues were really infected or if the surgery wasn't necessary.  I don't blame the doctor for doing what he knew to be an effective method of removing questionable cells.  What I object to is the lack of follow up care and denial of connection between surgery and what is happening to my body now.  And privately, it is difficult to deal with my doctor's world in the sense that I cannot really express my grief and sorrow to him about the results of surgery.  He doesn't understand why I would grieve the loss of my cervix and I do not wish to appear overly emotional, it doesn't feel safe there.

So after I finish the letter I get on line and google "prolapse", an alarming and embarrassing word, don't you think?  Makes me think of "collapse" and old people just barely able to keep it all together.  There's some encouraging stuff on line though, particularly a woman, RN, named Christine Kent who claims to have some postural suggestions that help.  (I wasn't sure about the pictures though, a very different way of standing up straight, with the pelvic bone making up the supportive structure by allowing the lower back to curve much more than we are told by yoga teachers to allow).  She is honest though, stating that there is no cure for prolapse, but improvement is possible and that the docs who advise surgery are in a system that doesn't have a history of being a safe place, especially for women.  With that, I now agree.  It's funny that I ever strayed from that belief, seeing as how I used to teach childbirth education and would caution my pregnant parents to be very careful about their hospital plans, to state all their preferences and desires on their pre-registration before the birth even if they were not planning on having a hospital birth, just in case they landed there by emergency.  And for the birth coaches to be vigilant at making sure that those stated wishes were honored, etc. 

But because of a "bad" PAP result, I allowed myself to be talked into what I now consider a radical surgery.   A great deal of my cervix was removed, in the good intention of trying to remove any "bad" cells, which, upon inspection, could not be found in the removed tissue.  I now blame myself for not putting it off, getting another test first.  It felt as though I were healthy right before surgery.  But who ever heard of anyone not getting preventative surgery after being told that one had shown evidence of pre-cancerous cells?  I know there are those brave souls, I just didn't have their input at the time.  I didn't want to be foolish, or dead.  I was also told, by professionals and friends alike, that it was "no big deal."  But now, I feel as though I gambled with my health in a way that did not serve or honor my core self.  I feel as though I gave permission to give away part of my core.

Now I have a cystocele, which is the prolapse of the front of the vaginal wall, which causes all kinds of difficulties, the details of which I will not go into here.  The doc doesn't think it had anything at all to do with the surgery.  I do not believe that, its presence directly followed the procedure.  When I do a self exam, there is no longer any familiar cervix to be felt, the structural integrity of my body has been compromised.

I am angry and sad here now, my friends.  I feel like I have received a partial hysterectomy without realizing that that was what was happening.  Granted I am not going to have any more children, but one doesn't remove one's breasts after breastfeeding time is over. Is there anyone out there who can relate and not consider my feelings as over the top?

Enough anger for the moment.  It is a beautiful fall morning, warm and sunny with just the hint of coolness to come, like a fine wine in your favorite glass.  I intend to swirl it around, smell it and take sips slowly throughout the day.  Let's move on to healing now, and magic: the possibility in all things.

Thank you for reading this.  I welcome all opinions and comments.  I have ordered a new book called Wild Feminine and am making an appointment with the author who is a physical therapist in Portland specializing in womens' health and especially pelvic health.  I need the knowing sure touch of a young witch woman to help me through this next phase of healing.  I need to become empowered once again.  As Confucious had engraved upon his bathtub:  Renew It Daily.

If any of you women readers are interested or concerned about pelvic health and have any thoughts about a support group, or know others who might be interested,  please let me know.  I'm coming out of the closet with this issue.

Happy gorgeous September in the Pacific Northwest!  much love, Rosie