This Thanksgiving I’m thankful to be alive. Dramatic and very fitting. My timing is perfect is all I can say. Some backstory.
I’ve had an ovarian cyst for the last three years. And female part of the population will immediately be like ‘yup, had one of those too’. For the male part of my readership, it’s like a blob thingy that forms in our stomachs for no particular reason, but is fairly common. And sometimes they go away on their own. And sometimes they grow in size and try to murder you. Mine was the latter.
I have been suffering from some severe stomach pains for the last week. Enough so to make me go to the doctor. And I never go to the doctor. Because nothing Google and Webmd can’t diagnose. So, this was a serious decision for me. I had my appointment at 10 am, told my boss I’ll be at work as soon as I’m done with this nonsense. My doctor started examining me and I wouldn’t let her touch my stomach. She called it ‘sharp stomach’ which I later find out is a code word for ‘dude, you’re like about to die’. Then she did an ultrasound with a straight face, kept quite for the longest time ever, and finally said ‘you have fluid in your stomach, your cyst is leaking, I’m sending you for an emergency operation’. Being a smart girl, I processed this information and went ‘arghh, fine.’
She made a few phone calls, and immediately they were expecting me in the emergency room at this hospital located in the city. Practicality above all, I decide to leave my car behind (cuz damn city traffic) and take 1 hour subway ride to have myself operated on. Don’t get me wrong, I was in pain, but decided to play a tough nut. Mostly because my other option was to start freaking out, which wouldn’t speed up things anyway. I got there. Walked into the emergency room, and informed them I’m being expected, and they’ll be operating on me, like a goddamn VIP. They didn’t exactly believe me, but after checking with the doctor hurried me in. Everything else happened really quick. They gave me the hospital gown, shooed away interns that were planning some experiments on me, and wheeled me into the pre-operating room. I didn’t tell anyone on my family this was happening figuring they’ll be at work, and will only worry, and somebody needs to make money cuz I imagine my hospital bill will be hefty. I’m thoughtful like that. I only told my significant other to pick me up when they’re done with me. Cuz i didn’t feel like taking a subway ride after the surgery. Call me a diva.
I was holding up just fine until I stopped holding up fine, and my face probably showed it because all of a sudden I felt dread washing over me. Without further a due they wheeled me into OR. And I’m so glad for the general anesthesia because I blacked out right at the moment they started stripping me naked.
Next memory I have is waking up for this horrific pain. My jawline just started shacking sideways like I was out in severe cold, and forgot my mittens. Which I obviously wasn’t. And then I moaned ‘you guys, this like hurts a lot’. And then the nurse was like ‘oopsies, here’s some pain meds’. And I felt better immediately. It would be totally cool if we could bypass that severe episode. Just saying. After I came to my senses, I felt an urgent need to see a familiar face. And in that instance, my significant other barged in, walked over to me, and held my hand like in a goddamn romantic movie. It was fucking sweet, you guys. Even the nurse seemed touched. And then after making me drink and then pee, because that’s their test that you’re alive and good to go, they let me go.
And I got out into the chilly evening air still in pain, but also really high from the drugs, and just felt so grateful for the modern medicine, for pain meds, for my significant other, for being alive…but that was until meds wore off and I became like ‘this is bullshit, it hurts, and I can’t sleep on my side’. I like sleeping on my side.
Happy Thanksgiving, ya’ll