Since I’ve been far too busy with my course work (damned research papers…HATE!), taking care of the boys, and holidays and birthdays that just keep blind-siding me to be super-creative with my posts, I’ve decided to take advantage of a little thing Bloggy Moms came up with…the 2012 Blog Dare! I know I’m late starting, and I may need to double-post some days, but what a great way to make blogging a habit! They supply you with writing prompts for every day of the year! If you’d like an invite to join Bloggy Moms Network, just leave me a comment asking for one, and I’ll send you one. (Just make sure you use the e-mail you want the invite sent to!)
Today’s prompt is the worst pain. I could get all existential and talk about Spiritual or even emotional pain, but that would just take all the fun out of talking about pain in general. Warning: if you are weak of constitution, faint of heart, and/or queasy about body stuff, you may want to stop reading HERE. I’m notoriously an over-sharer, especially when it comes to stuff like this.
After having 2 sons, I can honestly say that childbirth is FAR from the worst pain I have experienced. Yes, it hurt like hell, but even un-medicated (my 2nd son was born long before my epidural kicked in), childbirth doesn’t compare to experiencing the rupture of an ovarian cyst.
It happened when I was around 26 or so. I had gone in for my annual pap smear and check-up, and was told to meet my doc (who I miss terribly since we moved!) in his office after I got dressed. Naturally, this was a bit unusual, so I was VERY nervous.
He sat me down and explained that the bad news was I had a cyst approximately the size of a grapefruit on my right ovary. The good news was that it was a macroscopic (small incision) procedure and wouldn’t effect my ability to have children. I’m sure you’ve all seen a grapefruit before. If you haven’t – they sure as hell aren’t small. The amazing part of this is that sure, I’d been feeling bloated, but not enough to think there was something the size of a grapefruit in my lower abdomen! Apparently, our insides are squishy enough that they just kind of move over and make room for stuff of significant size – like, say, a person incubating or a very large cyst. He scheduled surgery for the following week.
The day before my surgery, I was going about my day as usual, and had cream of wheat for breakfast, went to work, made dinner…yada, yada, yada. Suddenly, around 9pm, I started having what I thought was the worst case of killer, painful diarrhea I had ever experienced. I chalked it up to the cream of wheat since I hadn’t eaten that in a very long time, and proceeded to hang in the bathroom with a book, waiting for it to pass. And waiting. And getting the sweats and shaking and WAITING. It didn’t pass, but I sure did…right out on the floor. I woke up there in the morning, assumed I had just fallen asleep, and went in to the hospital for surgery.
When I woke up, I was informed that I had made the surgery extremely easy for them because my cyst had burst and all they did was basically go in and clean up the mess. AHA! I told Doc what had happened the night before, and he informed me that I hadn’t fallen asleep, I’d passed out from pain.
Well, it’s now 14 years and 2 children later, and I can honestly say it was the worst pain I’ve had in my life. For those of you who gripe and whine about childbirth – with or without medication – you guys are a bunch of lightweights! Childbirth was a piece of cake compared to this experience, and not just because I knew it would end. This felt like I had swallowed and was digesting glass.
The happy side of the story? I have since had no more cysts, have two beautiful, healthy boys, and also know that when it comes down to it, I’ll keep going until my body doesn’t let me anymore, which is a pretty awesome thing.