Reproductive health

Hysterectomy: one woman's story

By Gladys Swedak

My periods started when I was 11 years old in grade 5, and they had always bothered me. I spent the first day in bed because of the pain.

During my first appointment with a female ob/gyn, I was amazed at what I did not know. This was when I was in my early 30s. After an exploratory laparoscopy, she asked, "Do you remember hurting yourself at anytime to cause adhesions and scar tissue to completely block your fallopian tubes inside and out?"

I said, "No, but I did fall off my bike when I was about 10 or 12, but no one said I was hurt internally."

She continued, "That is why you cannot get pregnant. It is also the cause of the pain. I have cleaned the fallopian types as best I can. I am giving you medication to control the pain."

I was happy just knowing the cause of the pain. For years, the medication kept the pain under control. When I was about 45, the pain started to come back. I made an appointment to see my ob/gyn to ask her for a hysterectomy.

After a D&C she said, "A different prescription may help; if it doesn't, we will talk about a hysterectomy. Soon you will go into menopause and the pain should stop."

So I waited. The medication did work, and the pain diminished again. Within a year, I suddenly stopped menstruating. YAHOO!!!! Finally, no more pain, no more periods. One day, my pharmacist phoned for a prescription refill. He was told my specialist had retired and that the doctor who had taken her practice wanted to see me before he prescribed any medications.

No way! One male ob/gyn years ago was enough to turn me off. I was changing doctors anyway, so I found a female doctor. Shortly after I quit taking hormones, I started spotting—enough for me to be concerned—so I made an appointment.

She said, "I think you should see a specialist."

I asked, "A female, please."

At the appointment, I was surprised to see a middle-aged male doctor. After a biopsy, he told me, "I would like you to make an appointment in a month."

Not even two weeks later, the M.O.A. phoned, "Can you come in tomorrow?"

I was worried. "What is the matter?" I asked, "I have an appointment in 2 weeks."

"That is too long. Tomorrow or the next day," she said.

I asked, "May I speak to the doctor I saw?" I am told that he was a locum and is no longer at the office. I still have no idea what his name was."

I called my doctor who said, "She may have found something and wants to arrange a D&C. There is nothing to worry about, I am sure."

The next day, after sitting and waiting for 2 hours, asking myself questions without answers, I was finally called in. A little woman was sitting behind the desk.

She told me, "Your biopsy shows uterine hyperpalasia with atypical cells. You need a hysterectomy. There is a 40 percent chance that the atypical cells may become cancerous. Since you are 60 and do not need them, I will remove the ovaries as well."

How do I respond to this woman I have never met and whom I can only assume is the doctor? I had no idea. All I remember is asking, "Can I talk to my doctor first?"

She said, "Yes, but let me know as soon as possible."

I walked out in a daze. This woman told me I have to have a hysterectomy and that she will take my ovaries because I am 60 and didn't need them. What! No way. That is no reason, and why couldn't she do a D&C?

I saw my doctor and after checking the reports, she confirmed the diagnosis of atypical cells. This is the reason for the hysterectomy. The other Pap tests I had had didn't show atypical cells.

She advised, "Call and say you will have the surgery."

Big help. I needed more reason to have my ovaries removed than I am 60 years old. Signing the papers, I still had second thoughts. I was going to tell her not to remove the ovaries. No way, I would change my mind and not have the surgery. I would take my 40 percent chance with cancer.

Praying for guidance, I was reminded that I have other doctors I could talk to. Friends who are doctors all said the same thing: ovarian cancer is the most common killer in women because it is so hard to detect until it's too late. Now that was a good reason.

I didn't hesitate asking many questions. All my questions were answered. The main thing I was told: have a positive attitude. What you think is what you get. Talk to other women who tell you their experience.

I had time to think and remember my years of problems. Why was I so adamant on keeping my womb? I eventually made peace with it. I wanted rid of it. I wrote a poem. The poem is:

Dear Uterus,

You have been a problem to me as long as I can remember.
Maybe it wasn't your fault, but we have been
on bad terms since I was 11 years old.
I am losing you. I love you and I bless you.
I forgive you, please forgive me.
I no longer want you or need you. I release you.

Now having released my feelings, I wanted rid of my uterus. I was still apprehensive and I started writing this article.

August 29, 7:30 a.m. 2002, Ken (my husband) was with me for the two-hour wait prior to surgery. Then I went into the OR. The anaesthetist put a needle into my hand and said, "Let's put this oxygen mask on you."

I awoke in the ward in late afternoon. There was slight pain. I had an IV attached to the PAM (patient administered medication) machine, nasal oxygen, a small drainage bag from the incision, and a catheter.

The next morning, I was surprised when after breakfast, my nurse said, "Go for a walk while we make your bed."

What, go for a walk! I had just had major surgery, but I went. My bed was made when I got back. I got in and slept. Another walk after lunch. It felt strange that a day after major surgery, I was walking alone with minimal pain.

The surgeon came in about 7 p.m. The nurses were trying to change my IV and the doctor told them it could be left out and that my catheter could be removed the following morning.

Ken visited and I walked him to the elevator, then back to bed. My bandage was changed when I was readied for the night.

The following morning at 6 a.m., my catheter was removed. When I went to the bathroom, I took my hat shaped bedpan so my urine output could be measured. A male doctor came in at 6:30 p.m. and introduced himself as Dr. Blank's associate. He said, "Depending on residual left in your bladder tomorrow morning, you may go home."

At midnight, I got my Tylenol suppository and had my bandage changed. The following morning after using the commode, I had the bladder retention catheter inserted. The nurse was very gentle. I passed! I could go home! Only three days after surgery, I was going home!

When Ken came, we walked out, waving at the nurses at the desk. That was strange. Years ago, you did not just walk out on your own.

I felt so good; I could have whipped my weight in lions. Three days after major surgery and I could do anything. Yeah sure! Monday, I only got up to eat.

I phoned my doctor Tuesday morning and made an appointment for the afternoon.

Changing the bandage, she told me, "The incision looks good. I'll remove the staples Friday."

Two weeks post op, I was slowly feeling better. I still had a hard area around my incision: that is healing nicely. There is an empty feeling where my uterus used to be. I could sleep anytime.

Three weeks post op, the hard area was less and shrinking in size. I enjoyed getting out every day. I felt a healing and knew my positive thinking had helped me quite a bit. I was not worried about not feeling like a woman because I did. I had filled my empty space with God's love and light. I listened to my body. There were times I felt guilty about staying in bed. People would tell me it may take 4 to 6 months to feel completely like myself.

Six weeks post op, my doctor said, "Even though you are feeling much better, I do not want you to return to work for another 2 weeks."

Ken and I resumed sexual intercourse at about 7 weeks post op. There was some bearable pain. I enjoyed pleasing Ken and also being able to want and enjoy him.

Exactly two months after my hysterectomy, I returned to work. I still felt some discomfort in my abdomen and would not lift anything heavy for a month or so. What I learned is that a positive attitude is a really good thing.

I hope my experience can help relieve other women's fears. Believe in yourself and your higher power. It is not your uterus or ovaries that make you a woman but your heart, mind, and soul. They are organs that do a job like other organs in your body. Fill the empty space with the love and light of God.