Way back in 2011 I wrote a diary about suffering from "menorrhagia" (heavy menstrual bleeding). I detailed the ablation I had in 2007 to burn the endometrial lining from my uterus and there after not have a period, or that was the hope anyway.
Before the ablation to get a smooth surface, making the ablation more effective, I received a D&C to remove polylogs, etc. (I wonder if women who need D&Cs for something other than abortion are getting them in Texas, etc.)
After I wrote that diary in 2011 to now, I had to have two more D&Cs and two more ablations.
I was told after the last ablation that it would fail again. The reason is that the endometrium had invaded the uterine muscle. That’s why all ablation failed. An ablation was always going to fail. The next time it failed it would mean having a hysterectomy.
So I lived somewhat happily and finished my degree.
The ablation failed in March of 2020. I was visiting my parents and spelling my sister for a month of their care. My parents finally got to see the hell of living with me as the night it started I left their bathroom looking like a murder had been committed in that house.
I knew what it meant and I was on the phone with my gynecologist as soon as day broke. I was flying back Monday, March 9, 2020 and my appointment was Thursday, March 12, 2020.
Covid and Governor Baker closed Massachusetts in a State of Emergency (due to Covid) Tuesday, March 10, 2020.
Everything was cancelled. No doctors appointments, nothing but emergency surgery, etc. So there I was. bleeding with nothing I could do about it. I was put on medication and bedrest UNTIL Gov. Baker relaxed the state of emergency (which I fully supported) and elective surgeries (as opposed to emergency surgeries) resumed. And the medication really didn’t stop the bleeding.
Every time I saw people on the news refusing to mask up, making it last longer — I cursed them.
Every time Trump failed to be a leader and effectively manage the pandemic — I cursed him,
and I cursed him a lot and still
Trump refused to send us, a blue state, PPE so we would “die” — I cursed him (and his son in law)
Finally July 2, 2020 my surgery was scheduled. What was supposed to be a routine 2 hour hysterectomy, lasted 8 hours. They had problems removing my uterus, it weighed 15 lbs (almost twice a big as my biggest child at birth) — that’s a story for another time, and it IS a story.
While I was laying in bed for weeks, waiting for surgery, I developed a sore on my left leg. It just came up and wouldn’t heal.
After surgery I started going to Wound Care and Wound Healing every week, and they began treating me. Part of the treatment was scrapping me off the ceiling after scraping/cutting on the wound to remove fibrous tissue and other tissue that would keep the wound from healing properly. It was not and IS not easy.
IS
Is, because what started in 2020 is still with me in 2024. Imagine having an OPEN wound for 4 years. Open as in NOT healing.
In fact it would be healing just fine and then all of a sudden the progress we saw would cease and it would reverse itself.
No, I don’t have diabetes.
What I do have is poor circulation in my lower legs. The walking I WAS doing before being put on 24/7 bedrest waiting for the hysterectomy was just enough to keep me from having wounds that won’t heal.
Now I’m in this self feeding loop . . . I’m on bedrest to keep my leg up, which means I can’t exercise it because I’M IN BED. And not exercising keeps me having problems with my circulation which means more non healing wounds.
4 years, in bed, except for the periods I’d have to go back to Denver to give my sister a break from taking care of our parents. But my Dad died in 2021 and my Mom died 14 months later. So I’ve been “bedridden” without a break.
I have had a vein stripped from my left leg and grafts.
My wound June 23, 2024
Having fibromyalgia also has to speak up with this wound and make it hurt all the worse. Right now I can’t even handle any compression on it. To deal with the pain I have either had to tap into my “break glass” vicodin and I take gummies . . . lots of cannabis gummies
In fact I’ve said if I die right now instead of a funeral just have everyone gather around the crematorium and take a huge whiff. I’ll make everybody happy.
I never envisioned myself as being a pot head granny. . . but here I am
Hopefully this won’t gross you out. This is my leg July 15, 2024. The yellow is the collagen dressing that goes on the wound.
and it sucks, because life has just passed me by for 4 years and I’ve been high for a third or half of it.
and I remember what Trump did and didn’t do, and how he mismanaged the pandemic response. And how that has left me now 4 years on in bed and in pain — at least once a week screaming in pain waiting for some pain killer to work — to make me either so high I don’t care, or passed out.
I go to wound care every week high as a kite to deal with the pain of scrapping/cutting. Upside is they don’t have to scrape me off the ceiling any more.
But I do remember. And right or wrong (and I’m right) I do blame Trump.
