Bucket List

I have been thinking a lot about all of the things I want to do in my life.  (Three cancer scares in one year will make a person think about her mortality and all of the things she has left to do.)  So far, here's what I got...

Raise really awesome kids.
Skydive.
Sit on the lawn at Wimbledon
Write a book.
Start a restaurant.
Make that restaurant a college-town staple.
Record an album.
Front a band.
Travel Europe, Africa, and South America.
Visit all fifty states.
See the Northern Lights in person.
Go to cooking school.
Sing the National Anthem at a professional sporting event.
Grow a garden and live off the fruits (and vegetables) of my labor.
Shave my head.
Buy a cake from Charm City Cakes.
Stomp grapes in Europe.
Go to the Olympics.
Brew my own beer.
Dance with Ellen.

This is a work in progress.

What do YOU want to do?  What is on YOUR bucket list?

The Recovery: from home

I am officially back in my own apartment!!  My post-op appointment was on Monday morning in Salem.  Bad-Ass Barbie was wonderfully happy with the outcome, my recovery, and the progress on my incision.

Tyra was just under 5" inches in diameter and a heavy little bugger!  Contrary to popular belief, she was NOT imbedded in the lining of my uterus.  Rather, she was hanging from a substantial blood supply off the front side of my uterus.  She was so big that she was hiding my uterus.  If you will remember from one of my earlier posts, Bad-Ass Barbie commented on the size of my uterus.  She did the same this appointment-but it was the opposite reaction.  Opening my up she saw that my uterus is not large like first thought...instead it's actually pretty small.

I was very lucky...the surgery that was scheduled to take about 2 1/2 hours and would leave me on the couch for weeks lasted under an hour and I was up and moving within a week.  Bad-Ass Barbie was sure that the surgery would include a lot of work to reconstruct my uterus and might leave me unable to be pregnant.  I was prepared to wake up without my reproductive system.  I was prepared to adopt all of my children.  I was prepared to find a counselor to help me deal with the potential grief i would feel when i had to give-up my dream of being pregnant and feeling my child move and grow inside me.  I got really lucky....i got to walk out of the hospital with all of my organs and dreams in tact.

At my post-op appointment, Bad-Ass Barbie signed off on my work release and set the officially set the Sarah-can-TOTALLY-go-back-to-life-date for December 1!!  Right now, i am allowed to drive and go back to school....starting December 1, I can go back to work and get back to working out.  I have been so anxious to start running again, to get back to Jillian Michaels' DVDs, and to get back on track with the weight loss journey.  I have been SO frustrated that I have been complacent and blaming Tyra for the back and forth, the up and down.  I am looking forward to get back to it.

Tyra has left the building!!: the photos

Killing some time in the Pre-Op Room

 

Killing some more time in the Pre-Op Room

 

My Pre-Op nurse, Christie.

She tried to hook me up with the doc that she thought was going to be my Anesthesiologist.  She later learned who was actually going to be my Anesthesiologist and that he wouldn't have been my type anyways.

Anesthesiologist (L) and Bad-Ass Barbie (R)

I gave her hell for that hat....she changed it....i didn't need any bad luck in the room with me. 

And, clearly, the Anesthesiologist is not my type.

From the Recovery Couch: part 1

I am a few days out from surgery now and the recovery process is going well.  I have carved out a spot on my moms couch, stocked her kitchen with my food, and arranged my things within my reach and am prepared to heal.

I am managing my pain really well so I am not on the narcotic painkillers (thank goodness).  I was really worried about how i would react to them.  the side effects: headaches, nausea, and constipation. PASS!  I have been having enough problems regulating my digestive tract...i don't need help.  So, instead of the narcotic pain meds i am on uber-ibuprofen...advil on steroids.  It is doing the trick without doing a number on my insides. 

I have learned quite a few things about my body and just how important the core muscles are to everyday life.  having an eight inch incision in my abdominal muscles has changed my perspective on the majority of mundane, daily activities. coughing, sneezing, using the bathroom, walking, blowing my nose.....all difficult.  laughing....nearly impossible.  Luckily, there are are some things that are getting easier.  walking, getting in and out of chairs, sitting up, and stairs used to take me a long time and required a lot of time, patience, and focus.  these things are, however, getting easier each time i do them.

Some other revelations, lessons, and epiphanies so far:
- Eating swedish fish with cotton mouth is realllllly hard.
- Snuggies are wonderful.
- the blanket that kept me "safe" as a young child is still comforting.
- taking a shower is the best way to start feeling better.
- "it hurts so good" is a lie

It's the Final Countdown!

I will be at the hospital in less than 12 hours....oy!  I got a lot done today: packing, cleaning, prepping my staff, and running errands all over town.  In all the hustle and bustle, I totally spaced school.  Crap in a bucket!  I wanted/needed to get a lot more done this weekend to get ahead, but that did not happen...at all.  Hopefully my teachers will be flexible...ugh.

In between packing and prepping, I spent some time with Dylan this weekend and it was WEIRD.  She was distant and all together uninterested.  Normally we can't keep our hands off of each other....she barely held my hand this weekend.  Our conversations were very surface level...until I had a mini meltdown.  Her mother invited herself along on nearly EVERYTHING we did.  I thought I was going to scream.  Finally, I had enough when, after we got back to her place from a Target run, after we decided we were going to take a nap, her mother got all excited about something and totally took Dylan's attention.  First off, her mother is really annoying and totally oblivious to what is going on around her.  Second, she drives me crazy.  Third, I needed some time with Dylan to talk about the weekend's weirdness.  I was entirely overwhelmed and at my breaking point.  Dylan was puttering with whatever her mother was trying to figure out and I leaned over and told her I was going to head out.  This caught her attention and after an initial calm-me-down moment we went to the other room, crawled in her bed, and stared at each other...it was obvious there was something going on for the both of us....something more than my surgery and her house. 

I don't remember who broke the tension or how the conversation started but we ended up talking about what we are doing and the direction we are headed.  I wish I remembered, in detail, more about the conversation...but what i can recount is that there was a lot of contradiction between word and action, a lot of standing up for myself, and at the end, a lot of unknown.  For a moment i thought that we were ending our....whatever we are doing....but then she leaned over to kiss me and said that I make her feel comfortable and totally free to be who she is.  In one breath she said that she spends too much time with me when she wanted to be dating and getting back in the "game."  In the next breath she asked when she could come to my mom's house to keep me company and take care of me. 

At the end of it all, I walked out of her house feeling confident that I stood up for myself yet totally confused.  I didn't have the energy, however, to try and figure it out.  Luckily, Katherine picked up her phone and she let me process. Thank God for lesbian besties.

The crappy part about it all (aside from having no idea where we stand)....we had this weird talk two days before major surgery with a recovery period that will render me incapable of doing much more than thinking about what i should have said and what she might be thinking. blech.

I'm not totally sure if I will have time to post before surgery tomorrow so if I don't here are some details...I am due at the hospital right before noon.  the actual surgery is scheduled for 2:20 PM and should take about 2 hours.  I will happily accept any positivity and good vibes you have to spare and are willing to send my way! 


Shalom!!!

The Plan: In Action

Yesterday I had my pre-op appointment with Bad Ass Barbie.  We chatted about potential damage to other organs (ovaries and bladder mainly), the potential of losing my uterus (thankfully very slim), and all of the other health concerns and stuff to take into consideration: medication modifications to level out my blood work, how my heart will/could react, what tests i need to take and labs i need to do.   I am scheduled to do blood work and labs on Monday and then need to be at the hospital by noon on Tuesday.  

Here's the part that kills me......I have to take a pregnancy test.....even though I am gay and there is no possible way for me to be accidentally pregnant.  This is a "problem" reserved for straight couples.  I wish, more than anything, that biology was on my side and my partner and I could (one day) conceive children without looking to contraptions, sperm donors, and fertility treatments.  I feel like it's almost a slap in the face to make me pee in a cup.....rub it in my face....hmm.

I will not be allowed to have surgery without the test and it's not hard to do....it's just borderline discriminatory.  It would be one thing if i said that my partner had a vasectomy or that I was on the pill and we used condoms.....all of those options fail from time to time.  lesbian sex will never make a baby.

I understand that sometimes people lie about being sexual active or contraceptives fail or people don't use it....but WHY WOULD I LIE ABOUT SLEEPING WITH WOMEN?!  I understand that surgery to the uterus would not be good for a fetus....but there isn't one.

If I am pregnant we need to call the pope cause we have another immaculate conception on our hands.

UPDATE:  Officially NOT pregnant.....Shocker.

The Plan: part five (edited)

I was looking over the paperwork I was sent by my doctor last night.  Up at the top the woman who sent it all to me wrote in reminders about my pre-op appointment and surgical appointment.

Pre-Op: 10/28.
Check.

Surgery: 11/3.
WHAT!?

I had 11/11 written down.  I asked the woman I was on the phone with about five different ways to verify that we were scheduling for November 11 at 230 pm.  I planned to be gone from work and school starting the week of November 11.  My staff was prepared, my duty was covered, and my support team was in place for November 11.  SHIT.....November 3 throws more than a few kinks in the pipe.

I called Salem Hospital the next morning and chatted with a woman in Surgical Scheduling and she verified that, yup...I was on the book for Tuesday, November 3.  "I'm not sure why they told you a Wednesday. Kaiser doesn't do surgery here on Wednesdays......."  There was a horribly awkward silence and I came to understanding that I would need to be changing the plans.

so........in the morning..........i changed the plans.  Tyra Banks will be gone 8 days sooner.

Grandma's Table

Side Note:

Please feel free to leave comments!!  It makes happy to know that people are reading and i really would like feedback!

The Entry:
I am getting braver with this whole blogging thing.  I have begun to "advertise" the blog to friends,  class mates, and family and have, therefore, invited them into my life in a way that I have never done.  I have been, throughout my life, very guarded and private; letting only close friends know intimate details and stories.  This blog has opened a door; i have a new desire to open my life to friends and family in a new, much less guarded, authentic, and raw way.  This blog has left me exposed in a manner that i have not been brave enough to be.  I am most concerned about the reactions from my family.  I feel like I have been one version of me in front of them and a very different one the rest of the time.  While i know that my family is (for the most part) supportive and encouraging, there is still the fear in the back of my mind that learning about my life on such a level that i bring to the blog may cause some of my family to turn their backs.  Losing my spot at my grandmother's dinner table would be one the biggest pains of my life, no matter how intensely i have defended my independence or drifted from their reach.

I think many, if not all, members of the LGBTQ community have faced this fear at some point in their lives.  It causes me great pain that i have not been able to say that i am totally out, although i have been out in my social, work, and home life for many years.  There are still pockets of my family that i have not explicitly told.  I have dropped hints like crazy to my uncles...but i haven't said the words "yup, i'm gay" to all of them.

Thanks to the divorce, my uncles became the "positive male role models" in my life and i looked to them often as the good guys in the world.  I always looked forward to dinners at grandma's house because i got to spend time with them; I loved hearing them laugh, tell stories about their childhood with my mom, and watching movies or games with them.  I got an email tonight from the middle uncle, Dave, with a link to his bowling team's fan page...it's a riot.  He bowls at the same alley as Dylan (different night and very different league).  I wrote back and casually mentioned that I am, indeed, a lesbian:  "The woman I am dating bowls in a league there on Fridays!  I love that place!"  (I am pretty sure that Dave knows, but it just feels good that i am FINALLY...officially...out to two of the three uncles.)

Uncle Jimmy, the youngest, has been a great source of strength, perspective, and insight to the family.  He was the first one of the three i told.  He is sure that my grandparents, his parents, will be supportive, loving, and there.  He told me stories of times in his life, as well and instances in my mother's, that he feared losing the support, trust, love and confidence of his parents.  He was relieved and surprised that as much as he "messed up" they were still standing tall by his side.   I am afraid, however, that they will cling to their Catholic heritage and use their faith as a reason to abandon and shun me.  Being gay in the Catholic church isn't a source of pride.  Many of my gay friends who are still with the church speak about instances of hate and prejudice although they are, in many respects, better Catholics than their straight counterparts.  I am worried my grandparents will not be willing to recognize my future partner and children as members of their family.  I am worried that my children will grow up without great-grandparents.  I cherish the memories that i have with my Granny and it hurts my soul to think that my children would miss out on making their own memories with great-grandparents because of ignorance and hate.  My grandparents and I have not always seen eye to eye - correction - we have never seen eye to eye.  They often infuriate me, but i am terrified of losing them.

The eldest Uncle, Steve, has always been the funny one.  I sit next to him at my grandparent's dinner table and we make jokes to each other under our breath.  I have loved growing up and getting to be an adult next to him.  He was one of the first people in my life to make me feel valid as a "grown up."  I'm not even sure what exactly happened, but i remember being looked to as an equal with valid insight in the adult conversations that we have over coffee and pie after the dinner table is cleared and as our meal digests.

There is a predictability about dinners and grandma's.  To my child-self, this predictability was a welcome change to the scurry i remember feeling about being at home.  As a child i remember often feeling out of control and chaotic.  Dinners at grandma's were always the same: neat, organized, and comforting.  The food was delicious and soul satisfying; I left with a full belly and an easy-going spirit.  I guess even my adult-self often feels panicked and out-of-control and as if i am standing in the middle of a storm so I have put off coming all the way out because i have feared losing my place at the table.

A Baby Shower

I walked out of my class tonight with some friends and we started talking about the ball-of-fun and surgery.  We decided that I should have a baby shower since I am essentially having a C-Section...just minus the baby.

I think it's a great idea!!  We can play baby games, drink beer out of bottles, I can get presents, and eat cake.  I decided that it is definitely a girl.  I was brainstorming names with my car-pool buddy and decided that the ball-of-fun shall be hence forth referred to as Tyra Banks.  Why, you ask.  Well, Tyra, like the ball-of-fun, is annoying.  Similarly, they are both fierce.  I have a feeling the ball-of-fun can smile with her eyes and that she turns every conversation with my organs into a conversation about her....she is self-absorbed like that.

The Plan: part five

I got a call from surgical scheduling this morning....I am on the calendar for 11 November 2009 at 2:30 pm and I have a pre-op appointment on Oct 28.

I thought that i would be relieved to finally be on the books...but i'm not.  I'm more freaked out now.

Lessons Learned from the Year of Yes

As the culminating experience for this year's RA training, the Professional Staff decided a ropes course was in order.  One of the staples of RA training is usually "Camp."  This year, with the university facing the budget reality that the majority of colleges and universities are also dealing with, we needed cut costs where ever we could.  One of the hard decisions was if we should still go on retreat.  Professional Staff decided that with the budget reality, the calendar, and the feedback we had been given, we could create a memorable and educational experience without camp.  Instead, we did an all-day ropes course experience.  Last time I was on a ropes course I chickened out.  I was not allowing myself to do that this time.

We started the day on the low elements and i must say....we kicked ass!!  The very first thing we did was a circuit of low elements where the team was broken into two groups and the groups had to start at the same tree, travel in opposite directions, pass each other, and meet back at the same tree.  it was, by far, the most physically challenging part of the day.  at one point, i was climbing a spider web.  We had to go from left to right without touching the wire...we could touch rope...not wire.  as i stepped onto the web, i got really tired.  I found myself thinking about giving up.  I thought about saying that i couldn't do it. i thought about falling off.  but i didnt.  I dont know what happened but all of a sudden, i was off the web and onto the next element.

I remember thinking that this was not the hardest thing i would deal with this year.  I still had the giant swing, the zip line, and major surgery to get out of the way before i could tackle my portfolio and graduation.

After lunch it was on to the high elements.  my group of 13 people got through 5 elements in 3 hours!!  I was impressed!!!  Since we were the largest group of the afternoon, we got to go on the zip line first At the same time that we were doing the zip line, we were doing an element where you climb a freestanding pole, stand on top, jump off and hit a giant ball on the way down.  To that, i said.....yeah right.  i refused to come off any element by billet....i wanted to reserve my nerves for the zip line.  When it was my turn, i climbed up the giant tree without any major problems.  The woman at the top of the tree said my eyes were very intense (she found me later in the day and told me she loved my eyes...."they burned an impression on her soul").  I got the top, got hooked into the zip line and was TERRIFIED.  It was in that moment that i solidified i am not afraid of heights.  rather, i am afraid of falling.  I looked at the woman who was ready for me to go whenever i was ready.  I think i teared up a little because i was so scared.  but then i told myself that there is only one way down and jumped.  i thought that i was screaming "Oh SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT" in my head.  Nope, i was totally screaming out loud.  I got back up to the hill where my team was laughing super hard and informed me that i was screaming out loud.  We all laughed wicked hard about the whole thing as we watched Russell go up the pole and jump off BLINDFOLDED!  I did two more elements (the flying squirrel and the giant swing) and walked away very proud of myself.  More than proud, i walked away confident.  I felt confident in what i have....how i operate....and what i bring to the table.

On the ride home we got into a conversation about the last time that we brought people to a ropes course.  Zack, a 3rd year RA who was on my team that year, and I started talking about how i chickened out last time.

"What happened there, Boss?" he asked.

"I dont know.  I think i am just stronger." I answered him solemnly with a real understanding that I had changed since then.

I thought about that statement a lot as we drove home.  I am so much stronger in a lot of ways.  Since last time (Fall 2007), i have become physically stronger and more fit (true....there is still a long way to go, but I am miles from where i was).  More than the physical difference, I know that the last time i was faced with high ropes elements, I did not have the confidence in myself to even try.  I was still so damaged and broken from that break up (sorry, kb).  When i moved back to Oregon i was hungry for my fresh start but when i was given the opportunity to literally jump into a new beginning i got scared and backed out....i wasn't willing to invest in me.  Two years later though, i quiet the little voice in my head that tells me i can't do it before she has a chance to start.  Two years later, i push fear and doubt out of my soul before they have a chance to get there.  Two years later, I am proactive, reflective, and thankful.  Two years later, i am hopeful, optimistic, and sure.  Two years later, i know who I am.

With the Year of Yes has come a lot of chance for me to understand my strength and skills.  I have learned that even though it might hurt like hell to do 10 more reps, it will hurt more to give up.  I have learned that even though i might be scared to have hard conversations and ask hard questions, i will be more scared not knowing the answers.  I have learned that I am stronger than I look, smarter than I give my self credit for, and braver than i thought i was.

Getting Back on Track

Tuesdays are my weigh-in days for Weight Watchers.  I have been doing well.  30+ pounds so far and my goal is getting closer.  Lately, however, with the stress of training, the ball-of-fun, starting a relationship, and getting back into the swing of school I have let my progress and success take a back seat.  Over the past month i have let my circumstances take control. 

At today's meeting i felt the effect of that more than i have in quite a while.  I honestly don't know what happened, but I know that i gained.  I know exactly WHY i gained, too.  My love affair with carbs matched with a lot of apathy, a lot of sitting, and a lot of excuses have helped me reverse all of the work that i had been doing. 

Tonight......I ate a blizzard as i was watching The Biggest Loser.  It used to be funny.  It used to be a joke to my friends and I to fuel our "inner fat kids" while we watched other fat kids battle their fat.  We let their success be good enough for us.  The minute i started weight watchers, though, i made a promise that i would not let my circumstances take over....i would never again make excuses.  But i have been.  Since i got told that I was had this giant thing inside my body, i have been finding a lot of reasons why i should not follow the plan. 

I'm not sure what i need to do, but somehow, i need to get my ass back in gear and back on plan.  I want to fit into my dress for Sarah's wedding.  I want to fit into the skinny jeans.  I want to feel confident in my skin.  Hell, I want to feel confident naked!  I want to believe it when Dylan tells me i'm sexy (cause i sure as hell don't right now).  I know that all of these things are based in physical appearance....but i have NEVER experienced these things.  This journey is not about getting back to somewhere i was....this is about getting somewhere i have never been.  I don't know if i have even thought that it was possible.  I have always known and believed that i would be fat my whole life long.  I am at the point where losing is great.....but losing is scary.  I don't know what it's like to be thin.  I don't know what it's like to be confident.  I don't know what it's like to be truly comfortable in my skin; truly comfortable in front of a group of people; truly comfortable letting a partner see me exposed.  I am scared that i will get to my goal weight and not be satisfied with what is left.  for me, that's the scariest part......what if, even thin, i'm not enough.  I tell the young women and men i work with that no matter what anyone tells them: they are enough.  I need to take (and LISTEN) to my own words.  but....FUCK......it's hard.

Tonight on the premiere of The Biggest Loser, Jillian (the woman that inspires me, kicks my ass through DVD work outs, has her voice burned in my head), helped kick my mental self back in gear.   Here are some of the Jillian-isms that resonated tonight:

"It's a choice.  Make a different Choice. If you don't then no one can help you."

"What I will not tolerate is working below your potential."

The Plan: part four

I got an email from Bad-Ass Barbie this week. 

She doesn't have privileges at St. Vincent's or Sunnyside so it looks like i have (had) a decision to make.  Either I do surgery at Salem Hospital and deal with car-sickness whilst on pain meds to travel up to my mom's once i'm released from the hospital or Bad-Ass Barbie refers me to a doc up North. 

I chose to keep Bad-Ass Barbie and deal with the drive.

I have to be honest.....I am little terrified to start RA training on Monday.  This year I got really attached to summer and the freedom that comes with the absence of college students everywhere i turn.  I think I am less-ready for this year because i know that there are a lot of decisions to make this year....there is a lot of work to be done....there is a lot riding on 2009-2010. 

I have to graduate.  I have to put together a portfolio that I am proud of.  I have to put together a portfolio that my committee will approve of.  I have to get through three internships and 6 more classes (all while working full-time and trying to heal from massive surgery).  Last year I felt in over my head with Theory I, Legal Issues, and Theory II.  Those classes were the most academically demanding and made my brain hurt.....all the time.  But this year....there is an end in sight and I am terrified of it.  I am scared that I will drop the ball in the 11th hour.  

I have to decide if I am staying at WOU for a 4th year.  We are building a new Res Hall and I really want it......but....i really don't know how I will do in Monmouth for a 4th year.  I don't know if I can.  I miss the city.  I miss the options.  I miss being close to my friends.  I miss being close to my family.  BUT....I love my job, i love the people i work for, i love the opportunities i have at WOU, i love the trust that i have from my supervisors, i love that i am encouraged to try new things.  I was looking forward to having a year to do my job without school looming in my background.  I was NOT looking forward to doing a job search while i wrote a portfolio and did RA selection.  This is going to be a hard decision.

Which was is a girl to look?

The Plan: part three

Well, cats and kittens, I have news.  It involves a lot of crossed fingers.

I was beginning to get frustrated with Bad-Ass Barbie.  She told me at my last appointment that she would be doing some research about surgical options, reproductive endocrinologists, and further tests that would be needed.  On my end I was asked to look at my schedule for the rest of 2009 and give her a time line of when i could be out.  She told me that she would get to be no later than a week out (Wednesday).  Well, Wednesday came and went.  Nothing.  I sent her the email from my end during lunch.  On my heath care's website i can see if my email messages have been read.  As of 3:00 yesterday afternoon, she had still not read my email and I had no message.  grrrr.

This morning, however, i had a notice in my email letting me know that i has a message waiting for me.  I was nervous....ready for the news...but nervous.

"Studies show better success with open procedures than laporoscopic. We will make a bikini incision and go in and remove the fibroid. I have done this type of surgery quite successfully before and look forward to getting this taken care of for you. Expect 1-2 days in the hospital, followed by 2 weeks no driving (6 weeks complete recovery). We might get you back into classes at 2-3 weeks post op but no heavy activity for 6 weeks."

OK.....lets go.  There are still a lot of logistics to figure out, though.  Can the surgery be done in the Portland area so I'm closer to my mom's house?  How the hell am I going to basically sit still for 2 weeks?!  (NO DRIVING.......ugh.)  What about work?  Who will supervise my staff, cover duty, hear my conduct meetings?  What about school?  Will my professors let me miss that many classes?  How many will i actually have to miss?

Hopefully this will be a simple procedure and nothing will be wonky.  I have been having dreams that they go to take the bag-of-fun out and find that they have to take everything out.  I know that those are just my fears talking and creeping into my brain, but it is still scary to think about.  Cross your fingers for smooth sailing!

Hopefully i will get scheduled for early November.  Before that i would have to give up my Ani DiFranco tickets (yeah right).  Much later than that and I risk not being well for Sarah's wedding (yeah right).  Cross your fingers for an appointment in Portland during the first week of November!

I will gladly be accepting visitors (and cookies).

I decided that i am going to get a "commemorative tattoo" once i am all healed....along with the visitors and cookies, any suggestions for tattoos are welcome.

Leaving my Mark

Today i went to the OSU challenge course to participate in my first training and get some hours in for my internship.  It was great!  I got to participate in the activities and thought of many ways to incorporate new activities into fall training.  The other people at the training have been working at the challenge course longer than me (obviously).  Some of them have made the gig with the challenge course part of their livelihood and supplement their income by facilitating ropes courses and teambuilding events.  It was wonderful to learn modifications, tricks, and good one-liners from them.  There were also people there who are newer members of the challenge course team.  I felt like even though i didn't go through the training that they went through in June, I was on-par with them.

I relied a lot on my knowledge of student development theory to frame questions and bring perspective and insight about the group we were preparing for.  I felt like i had a bit of a leg up on thanks to my job and my grad program.  I felt a bit like a broken record, but it was nice to be looked to for answers.  It was one of the first moments that I owned my "expertise."  In many respects i still feel a little new and often doubt my experience.  I'm not quite sure when that feeling will subside and when i will confident enough.  I'm also not quite sure why i don't feel confident now.  I am going into my fourth year as a student affairs professional, I have a wide range of experiences from various institutions, I have nearly completed my degree, I have participated and presented at national conferences, I have.....no reason to doubt myself.  yet, here i am....wondering when i am going to be "enough."

The nice thing about being at the challenge course today was that I could really see myself using this Internship to frame the rest of my career in higher ed.  I have dreamed for a while now about reforming education.  Whenever someone asks me what i want to do after graduate school my gut reaction is to say "Change the World."  Honestly, that IS what i want to do.  I want to explore new methods of higher education that marries traditional educational goals with alternative methods like outdoor education,  service-learning, and living-learning communities.  I would love to get rid of traditional classrooms.  i would love to abolish the school of thought that says the only valuable learning is that done is done though lecture and out of books.  What about the students that don't learn that way?!  Who ever said that is THE way to learn?  There is too much research identifying multiple intelligences (what kind of learner are you?) and learning styles to believe that the traditional lecture-based educational practices are still effective and practical.

I will change the world someday.....I not be able to un-do hundreds of years of American education, but i will leave my mark.

The Plan: part two

Last night when i got home from work i was talking to dylan, chatting about the day and started getting nervous about the appointment this morning.  She said, "i'm ordering thai food....come over."  Even though it is a bit of a trip up to her house, getting distracted for the evening sounded perfect.  I was right.  a big bowl of yellow curry, puppies, watching a baseball game and lounging with Dylan was the greatest way to zone out and focus on the good in life.  This morning, Dylan made me a massive cup of coffee, walked me to my car, kissed me on my forehead and promised that everything would be ok. "Even if it's not," she said, "at least you will know what's next."  (she's a keeper, right?!)

The drive down to Salem was smooth and quick.  I listened to my new favorite song (Count to Ten by Tina Dico) about 97 times.  I had my notebook with questions written out, a magazine for the waiting room, and i was wearing the comfiest clothes i could find.  I checked in, got all settled in the waiting room, and was so glad to only have to wait about five minutes before hearing my name.  When the doc came in i was glad to see that she was not in bubble-gum pink this time.  Today, it was head to toe baby blue with her name beautifully embroidered on her shirt pocket.  She sat down, looked at me quite sincerely and said with a tinge of shock in her voice, "well, you have a massive thing in you!"  I made a few jokes about it and then she asked me if i wanted to ever be pregnant.  I didn't think that i would cry, but hearing her ask that question made the possibility that it might not ever happen for me more real and i got a little choked up.  The doc quickly assured me that she had no reason to think i would lose any of my ability to be pregnant but that delivery might, depending on how things go, be a little more difficult, but not impossible. 

The plan, upon walking out of the office, is to get these suckers out of me.  The doc could not tell from the ultrasound images how the fibroids (mainly the big one) are attached to my uterus.  There are a few options.  The best possible situation would be that they are growing like a pumpkin with a stalk coming from my uterus and then growing into rounds.  If this is the case, the fibroids can be removed (most likely) laparoscopically giving me a recovery time of about one week!!  But, if they are growing like bubbles from a bubble wand, they will (most likely) need to be removed with some more invasive surgery including uterine reconstruction if necessary.  This option will leave me with a recovery time of about 6 weeks and i will be risking damage to my uterus and might lose the chance to be pregnant.

Right now, the next step is to get referred to a reproductive endocrinologist to discuss options and schedule surgery.  My doc is fairly positive that since this is not an emergency (thank goodness), i won't get in before 8 weeks from now.  Hopefully the ball-of-fun doesn't grow too much more and i can continue to manage the pain and discomfort until then.

The Results

Well, kids, it's not ovarian (or any kind) of cancer!!!  HOLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEER!

Here's the skinny.  The fibroid (the official name for the ball-of-fun) is massive and pulling, pushing, and stretching my insides.  My left ovary, the one i was worried about, is healthy; just feeling the effects of the ball-of-fun as it moves in and unpacks it's things.

I walked out of the appointment with the next steps of a plan and, as soon as i wrap my head around it all, will let y'all know.

The Plan: part one

On August 3, I went in for two ultrasounds (one internal and one external) to examine whatever my doc was feeling a few days earlier.  I was nervous about this appointment....partially for what i might see on the screen or the reaction of the technician.  But mostly, i was nervous about peeing.  I had to drink 32 ounces of water in the hour and a half before my appointment and i couldn't use the restroom for two full hours before the appointment!!!  I pee A LOT.....prolly every 30-45 minutes!  2 hours felt like punishment.

By the time i got to the hospital i thought i was going to pee my pants.  My appointment was at 4:00.  I wasn't called in until 4:10.  I was ushered to a changing room and changed into a very chic hospital gown.  I was waiting there for such a long time that i started taking pictures with my phone of my best "model pose" and sending them to some of my friends to critique....i was trying to smile with my eyes.  Finally (!) at 4:25, I was called back to the exam room where I met Alex, the technician, and he did the external ultrasound.  Before we started I looked at Alex and said, in an attempt to be funny (cause i was nervous and that's what i do), "I know you can't say anything, but i need you to tell me if you see a baby in there.  Cause if you see a baby.....we have bigger problems."
"Why?  Are you on birth control"
"Well.....gay.  Thus, my dilemma."

He laughed and started the external ultrasound.  This is the part where i had to really concentrate on NOT peeing...he had to press quite hard to get a good picture of my insides and i thought i was going to lose it!!!  About three minutes into the external ultrasound, Alex asked if I was there to get images of my bicornuate uterus.  I told him that i was there to get a picture of what was in there...my doctor and I were unsure.  SURPRISE! Not only did i not know i had a bicornuate uterus - i didnt even know what that meant!  I radded that to the mental list of things to look up when i got home.  Alex was finished with the external ultrasound in about ten minutes and as soon as he finished, I jumped out of the bed and ran to the nearest restroom.  I was so relieved!

For the internal ultrasound a woman named Sharon joined us....to make sure Alex was kosher... and we started the test.  I did the best i could to make sense of the images on the monitor above my head.  I asked Alex questions about what he was doing and he answered the best he could.  I watched the screen as measurements were taken (110 mm....i need to remember that), he examined my ovaries and took sound images (the left one didn't have a "heart beat".....write that down, sarah), he labeled the masses (three total).  I remembered the advice i got before my MRI in February: don't pay too much attention.....let the doctor interpret the data; but really didn't give it much heed.

After the tests were done, I took my time dressing and took a leisurely drive down to Corvallis for dinner with some friends.  I had one of them convert those 110mm into inches...about 4.5.  I vented. I listened to their stories about life. We had a good dinner and I made myself focus on the moment.  I knew that my thoughts would be consumed with all of this news in the weeks leading up to my follow-up on the 25th so i wanted to focus on being with good company.  The women i was with that night encouraged me to laugh and let me be real about the whole situation.  I was nervous and scared. we sat in silence for a moment as someone tried to think of a way to lighten the mood after the gravity of the situation set in.  I have three masses in my uterus....the largest is 4.5".

The doc's words were ringing in my ears: "if it is between 4 and 5 inches we are going to get aggressive."

The Start: walking out with a plan

I am counting down the days until Wednesday. Well, actually, I am counting down the hours and minutes and seconds until Wednesday. At 8am on the morning on the 26th, I will be sitting in a sterile doctor's office chatting with Bad-Ass Barbie about the 4.5" ball of weirdness that is inside of my uterus and my floppy ovary.
I am sitting on my couch, the Friday night before, frustrated with the lack of stories from women my age. I am facing a pool of unknowns and can not find resources or outlets or solace from women in my shoes. So, with Project Runway as my soundtrack, this blog is transforming into a space for me to document my journey with Polycycstic Ovarian Syndrome.

In late July, I went to my annual appointment with my gynecologist. It had actually been two years...mainly because I was scared.  Polycycstic Ovarian Syndrome runs in my family and my mother, noticing some symptoms in me, encouraged me to chat with my doctor about PCOS as a possible answer to my issues. Since I was 16, my period has been VERY irregular, cramps that knocked me out; i put on weight like it was my job and no matter what i tried i could not lose any weight; horrible acne; and my personal "favorite" excess hair, hirsutism. This symptom is, by far, the most difficult to deal with. I am constantly aware of my face and the male-pattern growth on my body; i do not, by any stretch of the imagination, feel feminine or pretty or desirable with black hairs sprouting where ever they want. When i start to think about this symptom and/or talk about it with friends, family, and medical professionals, i instantly well up and my heart gets lodged in my throat. I want, more than anything, to feel confident when i wake up in the morning....no make up...just my naked face.

When i went my doctor 2 years ago I chatted with her about PCOS and the possibility of a diagnosis for me. This doctor just told me i didn't have it. I was so ill-prepared to stand up for myself that i didn't push her to test my hormone levels or do ultrasounds. I took her non-diagnosis and left the office. Over the next two years, my periods were still rare but painful; the hair on my face was getting heavier and harder to deal with; and i started having more and more sharp, shooting, pains in my abdomen.

This spring i did more and more research on PCOS and made an appointment with a new doctor, a woman brand-new to Oregon with a Doctorate of Osteopathic Medicine. I decided that i was going to go into this appointment and not walk out without a plan and a diagnosis. I was positive that I have been living with PCOS for a few years and I had gotten to the point that not knowing was more damaging, mostly to my soul, than knowing and not doing anything about it. Without a confirmed diagnosis, i couldn't do anything to help myself.

I walked into my appointment on July 30 prepared to fight. I was the first appointment for the day so there was no waiting or stalling. My doctor walked in, dressed in head-to-toe bubblegum pink with blonde hair and one of the more glorious tans i had seen for a while. Immediately i thought, "oh fuck....Barbie's my gyno." We started talking about PCOS, my family's history, and my symptoms. Without hesitation, the doc looked at me and said, "You have it. There is no doubt in my mind. I can tell just by looking at you." At that point, i started crying....it was such a relief to be validated. I was such a relief to know that i would walk out with a plan. It was such a relief to know that it would get better....or at least more manageable.

As we chatted about PCOS, the doc said that (worst-case scenario) should she feel anything suspect, I would be going in for an ultrasound and we would do a full blood work-up.  if i have any cysts or growths or masses between 4 and 5 inches, we would "get aggressive." I wasn't totally sure what that meant or how that simple sentence could change the route of the rest of my 2009. During the exam, the doc looked up at me and said, with a puzzled look, "hunh...you have a very large uterus." Of course, my nervous humor took over. "Thanks," i said, as i flipped my hair.

The doc finished the exam, took her gloves off, and said, "well, Sarah....this is worst-case scenario. I don't like what i feel so we are going to get aggressive." I was set up with prescriptions as an attempt to even out my hormones, appointments were made for ultrasounds and a follow-up. I did what i planned to do.....I was walking out with a plan.