Category: Healthy Living

It’s Benign but…

I wrote last month about a uterine biopsy, which came back fine! But to my surprise, October turned out to be “biopsy month”, as I have now dubbed it. I had gone to the dermatologist for my annual skin check when he saw a mole on my upper arm that was concerning. PSA: Get your skin check people!

I trust this dermatologist because several years ago he removed a mole on the side of my boob that he thought was sus and when that biopsy came back, the cells were precancerous but the margins were clear. This meant he removed all the precancerous skin and the edges around the part did not have any abnormal cells. The biopsy results this time were a bit of a different story. I saw the note posted first in medical gibberish on the patient portal before I received a call from their office. I highly do not recommend googling search results because I went down a rabbit hole of panic and despair, only to freak myself out. It was not pretty.

The call came the next day. “Your biopsy results were benign but we need to do an excision surgery to remove an additional margin around the area.” Well shit! Surgery folks. A bigger hole in my skin plus stitches. Yay! I am relieved that it’s not full blown surgery in that I have to be put under general anesthesia. I also feel grateful that I have been going for regular skin check-ups and was able to catch this earlier rather than later.

In talking with my sister, we reflected on how compared to our parents, we are taking much better care of ourselves than they ever did. This makes me proud of myself and also reflects my commitment to my kiddo. I cannot be around a long time for her if I am not taking care of my physical and mental well-being. And I’m learning, even though I do have a child, that I have to take care of myself first before I can take care of them. In the past, I wasn’t good at that and am happy I have made great progress in this area.

Am I nervous about this surgery? A little, yes. Again, as I creep closer to being the same age my father died at, I say a little prayer that I will be around for awhile for the sake of my kiddo. But I also know deep inside that I have been through so many things and there is a deep knowing that I will be able to get through this too.

Hi Ho It’s Off for a Biopsy I Go!

I have been struggling with heavy periods for awhile now and went to see my OB/GYN. Not only do my cycles last 7-8 days, but I am having disgusting size clots that would make you gag if I were to describe the size of them to you. In addition to that fun, I am having terrible cramps as a result. I get it, my body is trying to extricate this stuff from me, but often leaves me wanting to curl into a fetal position and just sob. The pain is through my lower abdomen, radiating down the front of my thighs, and is so intense I am forced to stop and deep breathe through it. To no one’s surprise, I have been feeling depleted and exhausted both during and after my periods. I thought it may be attributed solely to perimenopause, my OB/GYN had different thoughts. Just a reminder to all the ladies out there: heavy periods aren’t normal.

During my appointment with my OB/GYN, she scheduled me for both an ultrasound and a uterine biopsy to rule out fibroids, endometriosis, ovarian and uterine cancer. Yay! My ultrasound is scheduled for Monday and the biopsy is scheduled for Tuesday. Let the worrying begin!

Although this isn’t my first biopsy (I have titanium beads in both boobs from previous biopsies!), I thought I was handling this round pretty well until I realized I wasn’t. Last Sunday afternoon, I was lying in bed trying to nap and an image came up in my mind of having to tell my daughter I had cancer. The vision felt so real I started to sob in my bed. I lost my dad to cancer, albeit lung cancer, but this is one of the biggest worries and fears as a mother. That my daughter will lose me early in life. I was 24 when my dad died, and he was only 50 years old. I am 45 years old, and in just five short years, I will be the same age as when my dad left this Earth. I wish I could tell you I don’t have paranoia about dying at the same age he did, but I do. I really, really do. And as my biopsy appointment approaches, I feel more and more anxiety creeping in. If you haven’t ever had to experience this, it is pure agony having to wait for biopsy results. As if the lead up to the procedure isn’t bad enough, those days after, when everything seems to hang in the balance while you are waiting on a pathology report, are completely excruciating.

If you read this, please say a little prayer for me or send me good vibes or anything positive. I sure could use it. Until then, I will be trying to keep myself distracted so I don’t circle down this black hole of what if scenarios until I have a panic attack.

Is This Middle Age?

I’m approaching my mid-40’s, which puts me squarely in this middle age bracket. And as much as I would like to believe I’ll live forever, I’m having moments of WTF is that pain?!? Is it the big one?!? My bestie and I frequently joke when having said random pains, “Is this how we die?” It is mostly a way to ease the tension, but there is an element of truth that lies beneath.

To be fair, I wouldn’t call myself a hypochondriac, but I did lose my dad and other family members to cancer when they were middle-aged. My dad was 50 when he died, so as I creep closer to that age I am worried the same fate lies ahead for me. Which is worrisome, because I want to be around a long, long time for my kiddo. I lost my father in my early 20’s, which was devastating enough to deal with. I could not imagine losing a parent as a child.

In the past month, here is some of what I had to contend with when it comes to middle age problems. First and foremost freaker-outer moment was me having to rule out a DVT or blood clot in my leg. I had a recent COVID infection, I have a sibling that has a history of blood clots (multiple pulmonary embolisms) and I started having calf pain that would not go away. I ignored it for over a week, but then started to get worried when it wasn’t really getting better. After a telehealth visit confirmed my worries, off to the ER I went. My sister had cautioned me to be on the lookout for it, but I ignored her mostly because it freaked me out a little (ok, ok, ok, it freaked me out a LOT). One downside of post-divorce solitude is that I could die and no one may know about it right away. That is fun to think about.

The good news? It wasn’t a blood clot! The bad news. It is probably something structural in my body, which I now suspect is my Achilles tendon. Yesterday, while attempting to skip in the rain with my daughter, I was one skip in and felt a terrible pain in that same calf that had me limping the rest of the day.

As if that wasn’t enough, then my period decided it needed a vacation. Same, period, same. I was going on 42 days before it decided to show up again. In force. The only upside is I did not have a “hoe phase” in January, so I wasn’t overly concerned I was pregnant, but did take a pregnancy test to rule that out. Cool, cool, let me add perimenopause to the list of middle-age wonders I now get to contend with. I have been asking close friends how much they know about this topic and most don’t know a lot (including me). Our mothers didn’t talk to us about going through this change, so it is another area of life where I am flying blind and figuring it out as I go. Hooray.

I read an article about menopause and it talked about how this was just preparing you for this next phase in life. I sat there thinking, “What next phase?!? Death?!?” Yes, let us prepare for that. It is totally depressing. This whole post has been a random mix of depressing updates. I tell you this so you know if you have any middle-aged women friends you work with or in your life, we are coping with a lot these days. And we are not well and our bodies are starting to fall apart. And if you didn’t already get the takeaway: middle age fucking blows (my current mood). Although I wouldn’t trade my body falling apart for the life experience I have gained, so I guess there’s my silver lining. Excuse me while I go pop my supplements and limp off into the sunset.

Moonbathing

The moon, a silver crescent in the sky, beckons me onto the deck. I cannot ignore her call. As I open the door, I step into the silky darkness and the cold air is sharp in my nostrils. My feet are freezing against the frosty slats of wood but I grip my cup of coffee tighter to keep some warmth in my hands.

I can see the moon through the skeletal branches of the trees. I look up, taking in the sight of her exquisite silvery shape. This early in the morning, the neighborhood is silent. The birds have not yet begun to chirp their morning tunes. There is not a single sound of movement in the woods behind the house. I smile, incredibly grateful to savor this moment of such stillness. It is so rare for it to be this quiet where I am. I take a deep breath of chilly air, letting it fill my lungs, as the peacefulness envelops me.

I open my arms and absorb the moon’s shimmery beauty, allowing it to wash over me, as I stop to think about the generations of women before me. We are connected across space and time and I feel it in this moment. Under a beautiful moon. I think of the strong women in my life and send them love, knowing intuitively they will feel my offering.

I retreat back into the house when my feet start to feel like blocks of ice, and daylight is beginning to creep in. I utter a silent prayer of thanks for this sacred time and for all the blessings in my life.