what cannot be removed

Sitting Woman with Legs Drawn Up, 1917 Egon Schiele

mid november, about four weeks after my surgery, and when i would have been pre-menstrual if there was a menstrual to be had, things got dark. it took about a week for me to notice that the voice in my head was very loud and very close and very very mean. it caught me completely off guard and by the time i realized something was not right. i was in a place i haven’t been since parker was born. not suicidal per se, but not exactly not suicidal.

i’m quite certain that for me, depression and anxiety have always been chemical, not situational. and they have always manifested the same way, as intense shame, guilt, self-loathing, self-doubt, paranoia, and the need to control the movements of everything and everyone around me.

more later.

totally radical

copyright Lydia Makepeace www.lydiamakepeace.com

she’s gone and i don’t feel sad at all. yet.

celeste (36) - Dx 12/98: Hodgkins Lymphoma Nodular Sclerosing stage IIA - 25Gy mantle radiation & VAMP 5/8/12: Prophylactic BMX w/TE 9/7/12: Reconstruction w/Sientra cohesive gel implants 400cc 5/2/14: Liposuction to remove missed tissue 6/23/17: Implant revision w/Natrelle Inspira & fat grafting 10/15/18: Total hysterectomy w/salpingectomy

the baroness barrenness

ovaries before ovaries

i have surgery scheduled for october 15th - laproscopic hysterectomy (uterus + cervix) plus salpingectomy (fallopian tubes). the hope is to spare my ovaries; the warning is that with less blood flow to them, they may die off anyway.

i’m in so much pain - it feels like shattered glass in my back for much of the day. sometimes my hips burn like they did as they were forced apart during childbirth. sex is on old beach towels, with a spray bottle of hydrogen peroxide within reach. then there’s the things that bother only my ego: the wilty hair, the mushy jawline, and little belly pooch that’s dogged me for the past few months.

and yet, every other month, by my best estimation, there’s been sweet ovulation, and a throb in my chest where my nipples remember. i’m so fucking scared that will go away right as I finally have learned to turn towards it. blood on my thighs means i’m living, fucking. and barren is such a cunt of a word.

the inevitable

maria has breast cancer, aggressive, triple negative, but early-ish. friday she starts chemotherapy. then, at some point, she’ll have a mastectomy. I feel like I'm watching from somewhere outside myself. i want grip everyone by the collar and shake: this should be rote by now. it’s just the other shoe dropping, as shoes do. suck it up. we’ve been here before. of course you’re changed forever. of course people see cancer now. you are cancer now. suck it up. this isn’t special. you aren’t special. you aren’t fucking special. you’ll live.

brains are so fucking good at protecting us from the things we don’t want to face. protecting us from confronting the reality that watching our parents eventually die is far more terrifying than dying ourselves. because some of us were under the impression we would die first. not usher our parents from whatever this is to the inevitable nothing. your aren't fucking special. you’ll die.

the doing & undoing: part iv, lady bits & the class action lawsuit

Letter to my attorney:

In late October 2012, during my annual appointment with my gynecologist (Dr. Jan Rydfors in Redwood City, California) I inquired about having my tubes tied. I have a somewhat complicated medical history (Hodgkin's lymphoma in 1999 and a double mastectomy in April 2012) and I wanted permanent birth control, since I was done having children. Dr. Rydfors strongly recommended the Essure and described it to me as a much simpler procedure than tubal ligation, with the same end result. I was not advised of any potential side effects or told that Essure contains nickel (which I am allergic to).

I had Essure placed in early November of 2012. I consented to have Dr. Rydfors demonstrate the procedure to another doctor and several nurses who had not seen the procedure before. To my recollection there were at least six people in the room. 

Since November of 2012 I have experienced a multitude of side effects (listed below). Between 2013 and 2017, I had several appointments with Dr. Rydfors where I voiced my concerns. He consistently told me that the Essure could absolutely not be the cause of any of my problems.

In 2017 I consulted with Dr. Gordon Rosenburg (Los Gatos, CA) about the possibility of having a partial hysterectomy to remove my Essure. He agreed that it was advisable. Due to a heart episode during an unrelated surgery (revision of mastectomy reconstruction) the hysterectomy was delayed.

In April 2018, after changing insurance carriers, I established with my current gynecologist, Dr. Qin Zhao (Campbell, CA). In June 2018 she ordered a vaginal ultrasound and endometrial biopsy, to rule out any abnormalities; everything came back normal. In July 2018 Dr. Zhao placed a Mirena IUD to see if it would alleviate any of my symptoms and as a last, less invasive option before a hysterectomy.

Since November 2012 I have experienced the following, which I had not experienced prior to the Essure placement: severe pelvic floor pain, abnormal periods, spotting/bleeding between periods, heavy bleeding during periods, heavy bleeding during and after intercourse, chronic back pain, severe bloating, metallic taste in mouth, anxiety, hair loss, dry skin, excessive sweating, weight gain, worsening thyroid issues. I am currently being treated with Armour Thyroid, Prozac, Xanax, and Nabumetone. 

wherein the world is on fire -

and this blog becomes not about my children and not about my chocolate shop and not about my tits, but about how quickly things are spiraling into a dystopian future. it's been five hundred and twenty-seven days since.

I've lost track of how many rallies and marches we've had - there were three in the past ten days. yesterday oci co-sponsored the third (5000 people in SJ / re: babies in cages). it felt good to work in the sun and sweat and burn and move things and have a job to do. it's cathartic the shout and chant and sing and put a fist to the sky. it's getting really hard to strike a balance between functional (must suspend disbelief) and connected (but can't normalize). i cried last night when I got home, for the first time in a while. I feel like I'm mourning the loss of what could have been.