5 months after surgery
So I loved being on estrogen after my surgery because I had no period for the first time since I was 12. That party ended after 30 days when my prescription ran out. I transitioned back onto birth control which resulted in bleeding (due to changes in hormones). I managed the pill for almost two months before I quit against my doctor's orders. I wanted to see what my body was really telling me post-op.
Fast forward some highs and lows, some wins and loses. Some random emergency bags with whole toilet paper rolls and some back up underwear that belonged to my husband because...laundry sucks. Nothing has been that consistent or predictable. Some months I'm early; this month, for example, I was literally halfway up a mountain just a few days ago when it came on like a Miley Cyrus wrecking ball. Thankfully, I was with a dear friend who knew my story. I tied my jacket around my waist, and we pushed on to summit. At least I got to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment before sulking at home in a long bath.
The next day, I was half way through teaching a hot yoga class when it happened. I sat down for a moment while students were in savasana after the 45 minute standing series. During this time, I usually check the temp, lower the lights, turn on the fans and let them breathe while I do the same. When I stood up after and looked down at my towel, there were blood stains on it. Seriously. Thankfully, my yoga community is arguably the best ever. While I'm sure no one would care or judge, it's still just weird and somewhat humiliating. I rushed home for the second time that weekend. 0 for 2.
I've been resting as much as possible ever since and here I am six days later and still feeling like this is just how my life will be: I had an appointment with a dermatologist TODAY who thankfully I felt comfortable enough to tell as I undressed "don't be alarmed by the blood on my underwear." An hour later, I was home resting for 15 minutes until I got up and realized I had stained the chair. Insert eye roll. I feel like I should get a warning tattoo on my forehead that says "beware of blood."
My last good story for today: after another long bath, I barely made it upstairs before stuff was dripping down my leg...anyway, blah blah, I thought I got it all until I got home from the grocery store and looked down on my leg to see, you guessed it, dried blood. This is an all-time low. I didn't even go to Wal-Mart but maybe next time I should. All I can do is laugh because if I don't laugh I'll cry. SMFH. That is all.
Fast forward some highs and lows, some wins and loses. Some random emergency bags with whole toilet paper rolls and some back up underwear that belonged to my husband because...laundry sucks. Nothing has been that consistent or predictable. Some months I'm early; this month, for example, I was literally halfway up a mountain just a few days ago when it came on like a Miley Cyrus wrecking ball. Thankfully, I was with a dear friend who knew my story. I tied my jacket around my waist, and we pushed on to summit. At least I got to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment before sulking at home in a long bath.
The next day, I was half way through teaching a hot yoga class when it happened. I sat down for a moment while students were in savasana after the 45 minute standing series. During this time, I usually check the temp, lower the lights, turn on the fans and let them breathe while I do the same. When I stood up after and looked down at my towel, there were blood stains on it. Seriously. Thankfully, my yoga community is arguably the best ever. While I'm sure no one would care or judge, it's still just weird and somewhat humiliating. I rushed home for the second time that weekend. 0 for 2.
I've been resting as much as possible ever since and here I am six days later and still feeling like this is just how my life will be: I had an appointment with a dermatologist TODAY who thankfully I felt comfortable enough to tell as I undressed "don't be alarmed by the blood on my underwear." An hour later, I was home resting for 15 minutes until I got up and realized I had stained the chair. Insert eye roll. I feel like I should get a warning tattoo on my forehead that says "beware of blood."
My last good story for today: after another long bath, I barely made it upstairs before stuff was dripping down my leg...anyway, blah blah, I thought I got it all until I got home from the grocery store and looked down on my leg to see, you guessed it, dried blood. This is an all-time low. I didn't even go to Wal-Mart but maybe next time I should. All I can do is laugh because if I don't laugh I'll cry. SMFH. That is all.
Comments
Post a Comment