Not only am I creepily naked and sobbing in the above photos, I am also disgustingly smearing my lipstick, so that it symbolizes the last period I will ever have in my life.
A lot of women hate their periods. I really didn’t until the periods became unbearable. Going into the crone phase, even if it is partial, scares the shit out of me.
Pretty emo for someone of a half-century, I will admit. It’s my crotch party and I’ll cry if I want to…
While my first inclination, as always, is to make snarky jokes about the robots coming for my lady parts tomorrow- I can’t stop crying.
Words fail me.
The fact that I’m having essential organs- parts that are meaningless and useless now- that somehow DEFINED THIS MEAT SUIT for me- removed permanently really is messing with my brain right now.
If I leaned more towards the esoteric, I could just say this is all illusory… this body, this gender, this glove we wear.
I can’t fucking do it. I am grieving, mourning- an anxiety ridden mess.
All the worst case scenarios run through my head:
What if I die on the table? What if I am that small percentage that has cancer and it causes it to spread?
Luckily, now very few hospitals combine DaVinci robotic surgery with morcellation:
The entire thing is usually pulled out of the vagina, presumably after the robotic bits sever the organs from their places.
Still, fucking scary.
My friends and family who have gone through this say it’s a piece of cake- I will no longer be in constant pain, I will love it, etc.
As a consolation prize, they will take my fallopian tubes and keep my ovaries- as long as I agree to ultrasounds every 6 months to monitor the cysts. This means I can go into eventual natural menopause and not instant menopause, as I have Factor V Leiden and can never use hormone replacement.
Also, what makes us female? Is it biological, is it physical, is it a dangly bit of spongy flesh in our innards- is it a hardwiring of of hypothalamus? Is it a spiritual choice made prior to incarnating?
WTF IS it?! Do I become some gender fluid, non-pronoun using being after this?
I don’t know why I am so hysterical right now- I just know that I am.
I know I won’t cease to be ME, who or whatever that may be (unless I die, of course).
I surely didn’t freak out like this when they took my gallbladder almost 2 decades ago.
I’m just scared, I guess. Scared shitless.
My stomach is fat, like a woman 4-5 months pregnant- the adenomyosis has me swollen like a tick on a dog.
I feel miserable. This procedure is supposed to make it all better.
I hope it does.
Losing pieces of ourselves, I wonder if zombies feel the same way, if they were real and could think.
“Oh, shit, my whole crotch just fell out… need more brains…”
Yeah, I need more brains.