We should talk about menopause

I'm about 2 months out from my last surgery, and it was the chillest recovery I've had. I had a bilateral salpingectomy; removing both ovaries and fallopian tubes. It was also laparoscopic, so I have pretty minimal scarring and I had very little pain compared to my other surgeries. My biggest issue was the wait time for the surgery, coming in at about 5 hours. That's mainly an issue because I had to fast at least 8 hours before. I'd ended up fasting 10, just because of the time I fell asleep the night before. So 15 hours of no food or water while stuck in a hospital room is a special kind of torment. 

I had a follow up with the surgeon's office a week later, only to be told that it was supposed to be virtual when I showed up at the office. Nowhere in any of my paperwork did it say that it was supposed to be virtual and I wasn't told by any staff at the hospital either. They just told me the date and time. They were able to see me anyway, and everything was going well with recovery. In the end, I was glad they were able to see me in person though, because I got a lot of good information and resources for dealing with Menopause. 

Which has lead to me continually being annoyed that no one fucking talks about menopause until it happens. Like, I would have liked to learn about this in a health class at some point. The symptoms are far more vast than "Oh, you get hot flashes sometimes," which is literally all I'd ever heard about it. My hot flashes have actually calmed down a bit, which makes me think that the Zoladex shots were causing them more than anything. What I have been dealing with is more psoriasis flare ups, which can be triggered by menopause, and EXTREME vaginal dryness and atrophy. Like, it hurts to walk around sometimes because of chafing. With those symptoms come decreased libido, painful sex or masturbation, and a plethora of other body and skin issues. 

I was considered "lucky" that my cancer diagnoses was caught at an early stage and didn't require chemo or radiation. And I know that if I had to have those treatments, I would have been even more miserable. Still, I don't feel lucky and all of these changes are overwhelming. It's insane to me that every treatment for cancer ends up destroying the rest of the body. Listening to other accounts of breast cancer, I've heard a lot of people say that if they had to do it again, they wouldn't treat it. And like, I get it. 

I guess objectively, I'm glad that I'm alive, and that I'll potentially not die in the near future from breast cancer. But I do wonder if it's worth the cost sometimes.  

An Overdue Update

Hey friends.

Not a lot has been happening this year, but I have a few updates. 

Something about my treatment has triggered psoriasis. I've never had it before, but both of my parents have it. It popped up last year around the time my treatment began, I just didn't realize what it was as there was so much else going on. At one point I thought it might have been a rash related to my Zoladex shot, but after getting a skin biopsy at a dermatologist, they have confirmed that it is psoriasis. I have two different topical medications for it, and I'll have to deal with that for a while before we try any kind of oral medication. Because I have psoriasis, that has also increased the possibility of psoriatic arthritis. They asked if I had any painful joints, which I do. My hips have hurt on and off for a few years and recently I find it difficult to move my shoulders. So they will be referring me to a rheumatologist for testing. I haven't heard from them yet, but at some point I'll be getting a phone call about that. 

I've continued to get monthly Zoladex shots at the cancer center, and they have continued to be unorganized and kind of a pain in the ass. That's not to mention the pain of the actual shot, and the fact that they are $500. Fortunately, someone signed me up for a discount, so they were only $50 before I hit my deductible. I wasn't a fan of the American health system before I had cancer, but now it's just gotten worse. I've had a few finance related meltdowns because of it. 

Because of the cost and the fact that I frequently have to wait an hour or more to get a shot that takes 5 minutes, I've decided to have another surgery. My actual cancer treatment is an aromatase inhibitor, but it doesn't work in pre-menopausal women. The Zoladex shot suppresses the function of my ovaries, putting me through a forced medical menopause. I believe the idea is that after the treatment, which will last for 10 years, and after I go off of Zoladex, my ovaries could possibly start functioning again. However, I don't really see the point of that. I was on the fence about children anyway, and now with all of my genetics in mind, I don't think I want to pass any of this on. In 10 years I'll be 45, and probably couldn't have children anyway. At least not without a lot of complications. Also, the idea of pregnancy and giving birth just doesn't really appeal to me. 

In March I met with a gynecologic oncologist to talk about the possibility of removing my ovaries to help with my treatment. The meeting went well, the surgery is pretty minor, and the recovery time is short. She said the only thing is I will actually go through menopause after the fact. I've already been experiencing symptoms, so I don't think it will be much different. I decided to go ahead with the surgery, which is scheduled in mid-June; in about 2 weeks. 

I'm trying to come to terms with all of my body issues; the physical as well as mental/emotional. I doubt my struggles will stop anytime soon, and I'll have to worry about bone mass as well as other types of arthritis that runs in my family. Just more to add to my pile of anxiety. I really wish I didn't have to go to work on top of all of this. I'm finding it harder and harder to deal with people being around me. I get very overwhelmed by noise and find it hard to concentrate if there is too much going on. I don't think I realized how loud people really are. Coughing, sniffing, blowing noses, and chewing set me off on a daily basis. I wear headphones as much as I can and I have some earplugs that dull sound, but they aren't very comfortable. The biggest problem is I kind of have to listen to people talking for my job. While other people are also talking at the same time. My threshold for auditory overload is very low nowadays. 

Things would be a lot easier if I could control my surroundings, but I guess that is true for everyone.

End of the Year as We Know It

I didn't realize I hadn't updated this in so long. 

I am doing fine. Not thriving. But I'm doing fine. Much better than my previous entries have painted. 

At this point I've had 3 surgeries. 1 mastectomy, and 2 cosmetic surgeries to try to force my body to look the way it should. My boobs are kind of normal now, though I am still technically healing and swelling from the last surgery.

My treatment consists of daily hormone pills and a monthly shot to suppress the use of my ovaries. I'm probably not able to have children, but honestly that is the least of my worries. I've never been against adoption and Tim and I are not in a place where we want kids right now. Next year I may have another surgery to take my ovaries out, so I won't have to worry about the shot. Essentially I am going through menopause at 34. 

I am slowly trying to piece my life together, but I feel like I am always doing that. It's just on a larger scale now. This past year was dedicated to surviving, and healing, and getting through. I didn't make larger plans because I didn't know what I could handle, with surgeries and having to physically go back to work. The latter was especially trying. 

I made smaller breakthroughs and goals though. I wrote more. I made some art. I played a lot of video games. I tried to enjoy what I could, but I didn't set myself a schedule or a timeline, and I felt a little lost at times.

In 2022 I'm going to try to piggy back off of that. I'm going to focus on a balance of having fun and doing what I have to do: work/health/etc. It seems simple enough, but I'm just glad to be planning again. 

We Got A Gusher

I suppose it's about time for another update; since it has been about a month since my last post.  I know that post was depressing, but it's what I was going through and I'd like to be open and honest about that. I'm still going through it a bit, but time has healed it a little. 

I've officially gone back into work and I'm on my normal schedule (which is an overnight schedule, but it's the shift I prefer here). It's a lot to get used to after working at home for a year and a half. I was hoping perhaps I could still work from home part time, but the GM has made it clear that "working from home" isn't a long-term thing they want to pursue. It was nice while it lasted, I suppose. I'm still hoping I can find somewhere to work from home in the future. That being said, it has been nice to catch up with work friends. 

As far as cancer stuff goes, It's mostly the same. I went in for my 3 month follow up for my cancer surgeon, who literally doesn't have anything else to do anymore, and she finally said she was going to back off and let my cancer doctor take over; and if they have any concerns in the future, they would contact her. I'm glad to be done with that particular office, honestly. I don't think they really contributed anything to my recovery and it was just another place to go on top of everywhere else. 

I got my monthly shot this week, and also talked to the doctor's nurse practitioner. They said there isn't really a lot they can do about my hot flashes, except hope that they get better with time. They can sometimes give a different anti-depressant that also helps with hot flashes, but they already went a certain route to avoid changing my anti-depressant medication. I also told her my shots were getting more painful for some reason, and she said she thinks maybe that has to do with the skill of the nurse giving it to me. I got a different person this time, and it didn't really hurt, but I did bruise and bleed a lot. They called it a "gusher," and got some blood on my pants. I'll insert a picture at the end. 

I'd like to get my ovaries taken out at some point to avoid this. The nurse also said radiation could be an option.

I also had a follow up with my plastic surgeon yesterday. Things are healing up well, there are a few small scabs, but everything is looking good. I was told I can wear whatever bra or not-bra I want to and I can exercise normally again. Just probably not in the middle of the day, since it is summer. That is exciting, as I hate bras with a passion. None of my wire bras fit anymore, and most of my non-wire ones don't fit well either. I am left with a few bralettes and sports bras that don't always work with my clothing, so dressing has been kind of a pain. I'm dealing with a new body shape as well as ill-fitting bras that I had to wear during recovery, so there were a few meltdowns trying to find clothes to wear to work. Another reason working from home is better.

I have a 6 week follow up with the plastic surgeon, in which they will discuss doing some more fat grafting to fix the size and shape of the pre-cancerous side, and possibly lifting the reduced side some more. 

Overall, pretty good news. My monthly shot treatment is just getting old. And I have to do this for 10 more years. 

Picture of my shot site below.

Body Positivity

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Body Positivity movement lately. The prominent theme is to love your body, even if literally everyone is telling you that being fat is a crime against humanity. A lot of women I follow also go as far to say that you don’t even have to like your body every day, but love it for helping you exist.

I’ve always had issues with my body. I wasn’t always fat, but I was taller and broader than the other girls. That coupled with doctors constantly telling me that I was “too large” for my age, and unknowingly consuming fat-phobic media led to me thinking I was fat when I actually wasn’t. I even took part in fat-phobic bullying in an attempt to take the attention off of my own fatness. Those ideas (and a number of other childhood issues) led to me developing an eating disorder; which I am still dealing with thirty years later. It took me years to figure all of this out, and a few therapists to point out that yes, you can have an eating disorder and be fat. I put all of my worth into the way my body looked, and it didn’t look like everyone said it should.

A few years ago I think I reached a point where I was Ok with my body. I wasn’t worried about what other people would say or think, and I even felt cute. I found a nice guy, fell in love, got married etc. etc. It wasn’t always smooth sailing, but it was a lot better than it was. I’m not even sure I was accepting that my body was ok, I just had other things to focus on. I was also on better medication. At some point, I think after the wedding, the outright hatred of my body came back with a vengeance. It’s probably also related to my depression/anxiety getting a lot worse. It’s sometimes hard to tell until after it’s already declined.

What I’m trying to say is that it was getting better, and then it got a little bit worse, and then my body grew a tumor and tried to kill me :) So all body positivity kind of flew out the window and crashed into a tree. 

At this point, granted it is a rather low point, I don’t know if I will ever really love my body. As I’m typing this I am literally stitched and taped together and there are bruises all over the place. All because my body grew a 2” tumor, and the most efficient way to get rid of it is to destroy everything in its path. I have to get a very large and very painful shot in my stomach every month to suppress the function of my ovaries. My hormone medication gives me hot flashes and dries my skin out. My breasts are closer in size now, but still uneven, and the cancerous side is just...not a natural shape. There’s the possibility of going in for more surgery, but I’m afraid it will just always be a little off. 

I’ve just not been in a great place lately, if I’m being honest. I know that is expected, but I don’t like admitting it to myself or anyone else. I’m not ok. I do not want to leave my house. I do not want to be seen. I don’t want the added anxiety of having to go into an office to work every day: planning meals, changing schedules for training, and trying to be pleasant. 

Things would be much easier if I could just continue distracting myself with fictional characters.

But alas. Life gets in the way.

I suppose it's time for an update

 I've been meaning to type some more stuff up about this, but I just haven't really felt the motivation to do so. 

On Monday I had my real implant put in, and my other breast was reduced to match it. Everything hurts at the moment, but it's getting  better. My entire body is bruised, because they ended up doing some liposuction on my stomach to fill in the gaps for the implant. That probably hurts more than anything. 

My experience this time was a little frustrating. It was the same facility but I didn't really like the way I was treated by the nurses. I had to ask for a larger gown and they couldn't figure out what size compression socks to give me. Eventually a different nurse came in to help and get the correct size garments and then screamed at me to lift my legs up so she could put them on. Which, I was already doing. They also put the fucking IV in my hand again even though I asked them to put it somewhere else. They said that was the easiest place to put it. All of that lead to me crying in the prep room because I felt very fat and not great about myself. 

Dr. Horn and his staff and the anesthesiologist and his nurse were all very nice and helpful, thankfully.  

I remember waking up to one of the nurses from before and she gave me some ice chips and then I fell back asleep. She asked me if I'd gotten any sleep the night before, and joked about me taking a nap. Like, I'm on opiates?? That make you sleepy?? I tried to stay awake after that just to get out of the room.

Fortunately, my post op nurse was great. Her name was Dominique and I remember her from my last surgery, except she was my prep nurse then. She didn't yell at me and she knew the correct size to get and she didn't make me feel shitty at all. She made my and hubby laugh and she checked up on us and just generally knew how to do her job well and she is a precious human being. I got to leave about an hour after that. I was greeted with flowers and a unicorn plushie and crustless pizza from Papa Murphies. (We have to stay low carb for a bit so my blood sugar doesn't spike and I can heal properly).

I was able to take off my surgical bra yesterday (those things are the fucking devil) and I was able to shower today. I've mostly been sleeping, because I can't always stay awake. I do have a drain this time, but it's just one, and I'm hoping it won't have to stay in as long. I have a follow up with Dr. Horn tomorrow so he can take the bandages off and monitor everything. I'm sincerely hoping that they can take it out before I go back to work, because that's going to be an extra hassle. 

I was informed that I have to go back into the office at the end of this month, and it's caused me a lot of anxiety. To top that off, I have to change my schedule every week so I can train on every shift. Even if I wasn't in the process of healing my body, that would be a problem for me, since I can't even sleep well on my normal shift. And I have to eat regularly. I've expressed my concern, but the managers in charge don't seem to care. It was foolish of me to think that they would. They haven't even told me when my breaks would be, so I can at least plan out when I can eat.

I've been rather down lately because of that last bit, wanting to find something else to do with my life, but it's not really that easy. I need a job and I'm finally at a place where they are paying me OK money. I just wish it didn't trigger my anxiety so much. Plus, I need health insurance. 

My body will diminish and I will become an ethereal mist

 I realize I haven't really been keeping up with this. It's a mixture of not a lot of stuff going on and me not wanting to think about it. So here is what has happened since my last update: 

I got a Zoladex shot in my stomach to stop my periods last month. I still got my period, but they said that was normal for the first month. I didn't have any menopause-like side-effects, I assume because it hasn't started to work yet. I don't know what kind of hormone therapy I will be taking yet, but I should know next week when I go back to that doctor.

I've gotten 3 injections for my tissue expander. I will get one more and then after that I should be ready for reconstructive surgery. Doc said it wouldn't be as bad as the mastectomy. I might have a drain but I might not, it depends. They won't keep me overnight either. It will also involve some lypo from my stomach to cushion the implant, and will involve a reduction on the right side to match everything. I wanted to joke that he could lypo more if he wanted, but I know I shouldn't push my body issues onto other people. 

Speaking of body issues, that's been my biggest hang up with this portion of my recovery. The fact that I hate my body has become more apparent than anything else to me. Like, I already knew that about myself, but it's the only thing I can focus on at the moment. Covid has been a good excuse for me to not leave the house, but even now that some things are relaxing, I still don't want to leave the house because I hate how I look. Part of it is that my boobs are uneven, but it's also just general fatness. I'm worried that I'll end up with a nice new perky set of boobs and the rest of me won't match. Won't be shiny and new and aesthetically pleasing. I'm not really worried about hubs or other people, but I'm my worst critic and the only one I listen to most of the time. As much as I don't like my large saggy boobs, they were at least in proportion to the rest of me. Now I'm afraid my stomach will poke out even more and I will have a mental breakdown every time I have to get dressed and leave the house. It is much easier to stay home and ignore that there is anything else out there for me. 

I also cut my hair. I've been having a lot of dry scalp issues and the fact that my hair was long and I could just put it up and ignore it was leading me to not take care of it the way I should. So I gave myself a pixie with the help of hubs. He shaved the back and sides and I cut the top. I kind of hate the part that I did, but I hate everything, so I've decided just to leave it and hope I like it better when it grows out. I opted to do it myself so it would be easier for me to keep up with, and also women's haircuts are twice as expensive and I hate that. Also it would require me to leave the house, and we've already talked about how I hate that. 

So I have been avoiding reality as much as I can. I started playing Zelda: Breath of the Wild again, and it's still very good and takes a lot of my attention. When I'm not playing that I'm playing a game on my phone or reading fanfiction. I even wrote some. I'm just trying to avoid my life as much as possible. I know it's not the healthiest thing, but I don't know what else to do at this point. Fantasy has been my coping mechanism since I was a lonely tot; I don't see myself stopping any time soon.