Story
Okay, so here’s the not-so-brief, somewhat grim, profanity-laced, and rather dirty explanation for why this godforsaken organ can fuck right off and meander back to the hell from whence it came. Then I’ll go over some logistics and requests. (If you want to skip the gory play-by-play horror show but still want to help, you can go straight to the sidebar and calendar for such endeavors. I don’t blame you one bit; heck, I don’t want to be here either.) If you do stick around, I’m going to keep this as amusing as I see fit because just typing this is boring me so I can only imagine how you feel having to read it (unless there’s some organ removal fetishists that have stumbled upon this. If that’s the case, uh... welcome? I’m sure you’ll have a blast. Pay me for your pleasure? K thx.) Essentially, I was born and 10 years later Mr. Howdy decided to start making my life a chronic pain hell (I didn’t even play with a Ouija board), and now nearly 30 years later I finally managed to find a gynecologist who was like “huh, that’s an unholy amount of pain and we should cast that organ out.” (It was actually more like “I know you’re here for a tubal ligation that you’ve been asking various doctors to perform for nearly a quarter century but with this amount of pain I think you’d be better served by a hysterectomy” to which I responded by nearly crying from relief.) Fast forward to the first pelvic ultrasounds anyone has ever ordered for me (despite consistently reporting, for almost three decades, to my medical providers that my symptoms were basically “oh, hey, sometimes I sob and vomit and nearly pass out from the amount of blinding pain my super random, super heavy, super lengthy periods cause me”.) Results came back and *insert the Stefon from SNL memes here because* THIS 👏🏻 REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM👏🏻 HAS👏🏻 EVERYTHING👏🏻 Endometriosis!!! 🥳 Ovarian Cysts!!! 🥳 Uterine calcification!!! 🥳 Likely Adenomyosis!!! 🥳 (Wondering what that even the fuck is? I did, too! Apparently, endometrial material can not only be a wandering creep and grow outside your uterus, but it can also IMPLANT ITSELF INTO THE UTERINE MUSCLE *cue a glassy-eyed maniacal laugh* They won’t be able to confirm that one until they do some uterine-dissecting post-surgery but isn’t that just a cute little condition addition?! THAT one is considered “suspected” in part due to my painful period shits and proctalgia fugax. Now you’re asking wtf proctalgia fugax is, right? Oh, ya know, it’s only like if you have THE MOST RANDOM STABBING CHARLEY HORSE PAIN EVER DIRECTLY IN YOUR ASSHOLE. There is no thespian, living or deceased, that can compete with sixth-grade Jessi managing to keep a straight face while experiencing THAT for the first time in social studies class.) So, yeah... at least I know now that I’m not crazy and my uterus and its little hellion sidekicks are bonafide demons. We can discuss my deep and unwavering disgust at the state of women’s healthcare in this country another day because it’s fine, it’s totally fine. 🐶☕️🔥 My rad surgeon is going to sprinkle some holy water, do a little Gregorian chanting, and nip this issue in the bud. (She’s actually going to stick little robot arms through my abdominal wall & belly button, chop off my uterus & cervix & fallopian tubes, grab whatever endometrial stray cats she finds in my abdominal cavity and surrounding organs, and shove it all out my vaginal canal before sewing the northernmost portion of said-canal up like the toe of a darned sock. And if that description was where you went “woah, Jessi, that’s a bit much”, then I didn’t do a good enough job describing proctalgia fugax for you.) Despite the whole robot-arms-thing, the surgery is routine and everything is expected to be smooth sailing. Healing will be about two weeks at home and eight weeks of being careful and not lifting anything over 35 lbs (and, of course, no 👉🏻👌🏻 or 🤌🏻.) That is gonna make working a little tricky for a while (the no-lifting part, not the other part), and I have been repeatedly chided for not asking for help so I will say this: if you are in a in a SAFE FINANCIAL POSITION to help me soften the impending lack-of-income blow, I would be so grateful and my mental and physical health would benefit immensely. That description does not apply to most of us in this godforsaken economy so please don’t send me anything but well wishes if you aren’t comfortably cushioned to do so. Seriously, having you here to cheer me on with sentiments like “way to go, champ” and “you may be the funniest person on the planet” means the world to me. If you do decide you’re safely able to help financially, the options listed over in yonder sidebar are the ones most helpful to me. At this time, I don’t have any specific needs for in-person help BUT if/when that changes, I’ll add it to the calendar thingy and post a request update. Okay, I think that’s it for now. I’ll post a little howdy when I’m out of surgery and home safe on Thursday (I will be on drugs so please don’t judge my grammatical capabilities.) I think you can follow this page to get updates? Not positive but OH MY GOD I ALMOST FORGOT THE BEST PART: I GET TO BRING THE UTERUS HOME WITH ME (after they run tests.) That evil little fuck is gonna sit in a jar on a shelf for the rest of my life and THINK ABOUT WHAT IT HAS DONE. I’ll probably slap some googly eyes on said jar as well. You’ll want to stay tuned for that because I will post the hell out of it for you weirdos (don’t pretend like you got all the way through this and aren’t a weirdo.) Anyways, I am so deeply grateful for you. Wish me luck. XO -Jess
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