My period has gone away like a good little period, and I am feeling rather more sanguine (sanguine! See what I did there? Oh, I just about kill myself) about the state of my innards. Now that I am no longer feeling all subjective and muttering ‘hhhhrrrrggggh’ to myself at irregular intervals, I have decided to sit down and review this last period as compared to pre-surgery periods (or marathon idiocies, as I think it’s only fair to call them). I thought this would be a useful thing to do, as in the absence of lovely innardly photo sessions, I had been feeling a little vague as to the point of the surgery. Especially as I was still in pain and still best friends with the night-time extra-long super-ultra-absorbant sanitary towels as back-up for the ultra-super-plus tampons.
It’s very interesting.
- I used to get terrific lower back-ache during my periods. It was like being kicked by a horse smack in the sacrum. I’d beg H to rub my back better, and then shriek at him for rubbing so hard, and he of course would been applying a feather-light stroke that I wouldn’t have noticed if he had done it on my naked eyeball. This time, no back-ache. At all.
- Cramps used to fill my entire lower abdomen, and run down my thighs. This time, they kept themselves to the uterus itself, which, admittedly, did feel like a razor-covered cannon-ball of doom. But just the one cannon-ball.
- I used to get the most aggravating pee trouble during my period. I’d get spasms of pain in my bladder, which would respond by wanting to be emptied every 12 minutes or so, and then would be in such spasm I wouldn’t actually be able to pee, and getting a spoonful to trickle out would take minutes. And, of course, having a full bladder would make the uterine pain worse. Peeing would make it much worse, as the release of pressure would set it off on a ten-minute cramping bender. This would improve just just in time for me to notice that the bladder had had enough and wanted another go at emptying. This time, my bladder stayed completely out of it, agreed to retain several hours’ worth before fussing, and declined to do any spasming or upsetting the uterus.
- Umm, yes, the cramps haven’t improved much, and laugh heartily in the face of ibuprofen (which is why I’ve been prescribed Mefenamic Acid (which makes me high! So fun!). But they’re not constant, like they were in the good old days when my uterus and bladder were yoked together and forced to do everything in tandem. They actually come and go, and give me time off to get my breath back.
- Bleeding, still somewhat in the ‘Holy Hell, was that a clot or my entire kidney?’ mode, and still leaves me end of play with white lips and black circles under my eyes and a tendency to feel very very feeble (I am taking the iron, OK?). Also, weepy, and homicidal.
I am afraid to say that it looks as if having the adhesions hacked loose and dragged out was A Good Thing. I am afraid to say it in case this was a fluke and it all goes to hell in a hand-cart next month.
Ah, pessimism. The grouchy girl’s survival tool (no nasty surprises! Ever! Guaranteed!).