rodeokitchen

Thirty day notice. I’m grumpy and excited. I live in compression pants with a heating pad on my lap. Jessica is doing her best to keep me calm and motivated. “What if this is your renaissance, Ama” and “ if no one has said it yet, you ARE doing a great job of not freaking out”

I get sweaty walking up the stairs. My new career is physically exhausting. I’ve spent most of 2023 running 20,000 steps around a hotel, pretending I’m not in pain. If you’ve ever met me you know I’m a terrible liar and I can’t really keep a secret. It’s been hell trying to figure out how to keep quiet and figure all of this out while not hindering my job.

Last week the pain was so severe I wanted to go to the ER. I had to call out of work, letting my bosses know about my condition. Ironically, this occurred on the same day my 90 day review. Apparently, I wasn’t aware the severity until now. Yes, these things can rupture or rip off your uterus wall. Luckily, I just had to poop. Now I’m on a liquid diet for the foreseeable future.

The begrudging terror for forgetting my world when I go under anesthesia has evaporated. I can’t care anymore, it’s no longer a priority. My doctor said “you’ve been through so many hard things, you’ll get through this too” Maybe I’ll wake up a new person, again? I’ve done it before, it wasn’t the worst. I just want to feel better. I just want to be able to dance, and stretch and bounce a little.

When I mention I’m having a hysterectomy they say “what ?!? You don’t want kids?” “You need a second opinion” No, I don’t. This is actually the third opinion and my doctor is incredible. My uterus has never been a hospitable environment. I’ve miscarried more than once. It was grueling each time. Most important, I’m negating the high risk of cancer. Every second these things grow like an alien baby increasing my chances for malignancy. I don’t want another biopsy, I want my uterus gone.

I’m 45; not young, not old. Not self absorbed or wealthy enough for a mid life crisis. Never married, perhaps a failure to launch, not a phoenix rising from the ashes. Nevertheless, Ready for the renaissance.