Sunday night, I scheduled several days’ worth of posts intended to inspire ME, loaded some uplifting Mandisa songs onto my phone and gave friends instructions to only let me have a two day pity party if things didn’t go as expected.
I was scheduled for surgery on Monday afternoon, suddenly necessary, but not exactly part of of my plan. I’m not ready to talk about all the details. I’ll be fine. I’m alive. I will swim, bike and run again. But, this unexpected turn of events messed with big plans I had for the spring.
I was going to have an awesome birthday party with my friend Molly. We were going to spend the entire day running and playing in Kansas City. Run a few miles. Stop for a snack. Run some more. Catch a movie. Run some more. Get some sangria. All day long until we were exhausted. Our idea of the perfect runner celebration.
I was training for the Lincoln Marathon, and stayed up on New Year’s Eve to be one of the first who registered for the race that sold out in under 12 hours. My training hadn’t been going well anyway. I was too anemic. My heart rate spiked when it shouldn’t. My body didn’t recover between runs.
I finally had my running group going again and had a nice turn out for the group runs I offered recently.
It’s been a cold, snowy winter and I don’t do well with sitting. I need to be outside. Moving. In the sun.
I had my surgery. And things went great. No unexpected complications. I figured that would be the end of the emotional roller coaster. Three weeks, and I am allowed to start swimming and biking. Another three, and I can begin to run again. Probably not enough activity to get me to a full marathon in May, but I could be happy with the half at a pace where I’m focusing on “just finishing.” That’s all pretty great news, right?
Then I spent two days crying in my room. Over stuff that even I knew was not worth crying about. I’d accepted that I have to slow down for a while. But things happened so fast, I wasn’t prepared for the emotional/hormonal aspects. My follow up appointment with my doctor is on Monday, but it’s hard for an impatient person like me to sit around and wait for answers. Especially when I can’t bend at the waist, weigh 7 lbs more than I did when I went to the hospital, and am so puffy that I can only leave the house to go places where it is acceptable to wear sweats or running tights. (Yes, I realize that’s all inflammation and fluids from surgery, but I want it gone NOW!)
What I’m really angry about today is that there is so much poor information out there when it comes to women’s health issues. It is plain old depressing. I could not find a single uplifting article that talked about the effects of a hysterectomy. Not a single article full of hope. Or one that gave practical tips to avoid the weight gain. After years of hard work, I am not looking forward to gaining 15-20 pounds overnight, as the majority of articles claim.
Common sense tells me these stats are based on all women, even those who are not watching what they eat, or training for triathlons and marathons. I found NO information on how active women fared when it came to weight gain and other symptoms. But it doesn’t really matter. All women go through menopause, and about 600,000 women a year undergo a hysterectomy in the U.S. I think ALL WOMEN need better answers.
I’m trying to put an end to my pity party. I’m allowed to walk on the treadmill today, and that will help my mental state. Hopefully, I will get some good answers at my follow up appointment on Monday. For today, I’m trying to be kind to myself and accept that I am doing the best I can to recover.