TMI and FYI

I know a lot of people are excited over the fact that the Oscars are on tonight, but I am left quite cold about it.  I don't believe I've seen any of the movies nominated and I KNOW I have never even heard of most of them.  And I really don't mind.  If I get interested, I'll just watch the movies I want to when they make it to HBO, Showtime, etc.  I have a few other things on MY mind tonight.  Now on to the TMI...

Already I have started my prep for my colonoscopy tomorrow morning.  Oh, yay.  Ten years ago I had my first one--it was done earlier than a 'normal' baseline colonoscopy is done because there were some 'issues' that needed checking out.  So, here we are, years later, getting ready again.

I began my 'prep' five days ago.  The first thing that I had to 'give up' were some of my meds and supplements--namely, the baby aspirin I take and my iron pills.  Then, three days ago I had to stop eating anything with 'bulk'--fresh fruits and veggies, whole grain foods, etc.  I have been on only liquids since midnight and won't be eating any solids until after the procedure is done.  I WON'T go into more details about the prep other than saying it involves taking pills and drinking Powerade that has powdered laxative added, in ENORMOUS quantities.  Needless to say, I'm not going anywhere until I leave the house to go to the hospital in the morning.  I KNOW this prep is different than the one I did before and I'm very pleased that it is a bit quicker than the last one.  And I keep telling myself, "Tomorrow at this time it will be ALL OVER!"

The other day I was thinking about when I had this procedure the last time and couldn't remember the name of the doctor who I saw.  Actually, he probably isn't even in the area any longer--the turn-over rate for some doctors in this town is astounding!  This, of course, made me start thinking about how I would even find out who did the exam the last time and it got me remembering something that I found out at my PCP appointment in January--and this is where the FYI comes in...

Over the last several years, I have had to find new doctors a few times.  I have had some difficulties in getting my medical files transferred to the new MDs and I STILL haven't found my GYN files.  While talking with my PCP this year, she asked me a question about what my last doctor prescribed and why.  I assumed she could just look up the info in my file, as my old doctor had been in this same office before he moved on.  Come to find out, this office only has my medical records for the last 5-8 years--or whenever it was that he moved in from his LAST office.  He was not allowed to take my records with him, as the last practice 'owned' them.  I wasn't aware of the fact that medical practices 'own' your records and don't necessarily move with your doctor if s/he goes into another practice.  While I THINK you can get copies of your records for yourself, I don't think I want to pay what would be charged for 35 years worth of medical records.  And this is assuming that I could find all of my records.  It's unbelievable to me that there is that much private information about me, SOMEWHERE, and I don't have access to it--and I don't know WHO has access to it.

When I got a bit upset over the 'losing' of my GYN records, I was told by the doctor (or nurse, I don't remember) that it REALLY doesn't matter that they don't have them:  They only worry about looking at the last couple of years worth of records and don't bother with the rest.  (And this is the main reason why you shouldn't 'doctor shop' and should find one MD and stay with him/her--as s/he knows you and your issues.)  While I DO realize that the pain in my right foot that I had 25 years ago probably isn't relevant to anything going on with me today, it doesn't necessarily mean it ISN'T something that the doctor should be aware of.  For example:  Almost anything that occurs during pregnancy--gestational diabetes, high blood pressure, etc--will show up as a medical issue at some later time in your life.  I do think it would be a good thing for your current MD to know exactly what the MD had to say about the issue that many years ago.  (I KNOW that doctors talk differently to their patients than they do when dictating their notes--so records are going to be more relevant to another doctor than what a patient might have to say.)   And frankly, I have no idea what some of the meds are that I have been on over the years--and I'm talking about all antibiotics, anti-depressants, pain meds, etc.  How many of us have a list of all of the meds we've been on?  Don't we just assume our MDs will take care of knowing this?

With all of this, I will now give my advice.  If you haven't started yet, write yourself a medical history that you can update as time goes on--and put as much info into it as you can, with dates, if possible.  A few years ago I did just that and keep the document on my phone.  I am amazed at how many times a year I am asked "Did you get a flu shot this year?" or "When did you have your last tetanus shot?"  My memory is getting so bad that I can't remember the answers without them being written down.  Also, it is hard to remember exactly when these every 5, 10, 15 year procedures have been done.  For the last four years I have been 'sure' that the doctor was going to send me for my next colonoscopy because 'it's been at least 10 years since the last one.'  The memory just isn't good enough to rely on it if you have to give some (potentially) life threatening information.  We are constantly told that we need to be good health consumers and being able to have relevant information at hand when needed is a good start.

Is Someone Watching Me?

The other day I was reading some comics online and came across this:

I couldn't help but wonder who is spying on me.  Remember this post?  :D

If we can't laugh at ourselves, we'd spend all of our time crying, right?

TMI--Once Again

Most women, as we get older--and especially if we have gained weight and/or ever been pregnant--tend to get incontinent.  This just is another way our bodies turn on us with age.  As I have been pregnant twice,

 have gained far too much weight to talk about,

and have stepped over that 'woman-of-a-certain-age' line long ago,











 I have three strikes against me and do have problems.

About four years ago, I had an 'incident' on a day trip that we took.  As we pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant where we were going to eat breakfast, I had a coughing fit.

Considering we had just driven for almost four hours, I had quite a full bladder and the coughing made my body 'give it up,' so to speak.  That day taught me to take an extra change of clothes whenever I was away from home for any length of time.  AND I also learned that there were products for women to use for incontinence.  After this, I don't leave the house without wearing a 'pee-pad.'

And I never had a big problem again--until earlier this week.

On Tuesday, we went for a shopping trip.  I know better than to have a lot of liquid before a trip, so I was looking forward to stopping into the IHOP

for breakfast--I NEEDED my morning coffee.

We pulled into the parking lot and K jumped out of the Envoy.

Just as I was getting ready to get out, an H3 pulled in next to us.  The guy--an early 30-something guy with wife and kids in tow--looked straight at me and gave a 'hey, lady, YOU can wait to get out of YOUR vehicle because I'M driving a Hummer' look.

(As if an H3 is a REAL Hummer.  :-P)  So, I sat and waited for him to get his kid out of the backseat before I opened my door.  Of course, I had to be VERY careful that I didn't hit his precious vehicle and I wasn't paying quite as much attention to the condition of the Envoy's running boards OR the parking lot as I should have--and they both were icy.


So, as I stepped down onto the running board, my foot slipped and I bounced off of the running board--and peed myself.  I then bounced off of the parking lot TWICE and peed some more.

 Immediately, I could tell that things weren't good.  As I peeled myself up from the pavement, I gingerly made my way to the back door of the Envoy so I could get my change of clothes.  I didn't stop for anything when we got into the restaurant--I just went directly to the restroom and proceeded to get out of my wet clothes.  We ate our breakfast and had no more incidents for the rest of the day--something that I was grateful for.

Okay, so I had an incident--AND I had myself prepared.  I was wearing a pee-pad, as usual, but it did NOTHING for me.  I am now contemplating the possibility that--on trips, at least--I may need to 'graduate' to something that will offer a bit more coverage.  YIKES!!!  Does this mean I have to wear full-on Depends?

 Or do I have to think about adult diapers?

I think I'm far too young to consider either!  Whatever I decide, my story gave my girls something to laugh about--little do they realize that the same problem just probably is in THEIR futures.

WAAAAYYYYY TMI!!!

The human body doesn't digest whole green peas well at all.

TMI To The Max

The other night, I went to Office Max to pick up some printer paper.  As I hadn't been in the store for quite a while, I walked through all of the aisles to see what there was to see.  (I have an obsession with office supply stores--I HAVE to have a 'talk' with myself before I go in them or I will spend far too much money.)  Anyway, I stopped to look at the mouse pads in the computer accessories aisle and I saw this on the packaging of several of them:

"...stain and odor resistant..."

Thank you, but I DON'T want to know WHAT you are doing if you need a stain and odor resistant mouse pad.

Breasts and Other Lady Parts

There was a time, if someone (read that as 'a guy') wanted to touch my breasts (or look at them naked, for that matter), certain conditions had to be met.  First, I had to know his name--and his entire history and genealogy.  We had to have been together for a fair amount of time and we had to be in love.  Considering I only have had three loves in my life, not many guys have seen 'the girls.'  (So I have Puritanical morals--sue me!  ;))  This is why what happened to me yesterday is so different than what has been 'usual' in my life.  I allowed someone to poke and prod, stretch and knead, squeeze and hold my unclothed breasteses.  I don't remember the person's name, I never saw her before, and I most likely will never see her again.  Yes, I had my annual mammograms.

From what I understand, many women have a hard time going for mammograms.  Some women are very emotional about the experience--The Mother cries like a baby, for example.  Other women have a great deal of pain having the procedure done--my friend with the tiny boobies suffers greatly with the stretching of the skin.  For me, the entire ordeal is quite routine and I never have had an entirely negative experience.  (Now, I'm not saying that it is pleasant, by any means, it's just that I don't suffer a lot having this done.) I guess one of the things that has made this a process that I don't worry about is the fact I have only had one 'problem'* with a mammogram in all of the years I've had them done.

After having my annual 'squeeze,' I DO find myself thinking 'what if' until I get the 'all good' report.  Of course, I've never been faced with deciding what to do in the case of breast cancer--or, thank God, ANY cancer--but I think about it from time to time.  While many women tell their doctors to do everything that can be done to save their breast, I think I would go the opposite way and say "Get rid of the damn thing and make sure all of the cancer is GONE!"  I'm not afraid to die--I got into this a few posts ago--but I am terrified of dying in pain.  Cancer causes pain.

I've never sat down and had a heart-to-heart talk with a breast cancer survivor.  I admire anyone who has battled through cancer and I would never judge, but for me, I cannot understand wanting to save a body part over a fool proof complete cure.  But, some women feel as if their womanhood is somewhat diminished if some of their 'lady bits' go missing.  Again, I'm not judging, it's just that I can't comprehend that.  And I only have my own life to use as a gauge when I think about it.

At the age of 34, I decided to have a hysterectomy.  I began having periods about the age of 11 or 12 and every year brought more problems with my reproductive system.  I was the poster girl for bad, painful periods.  In high school, there were times when I had to leave school because I was in such pain--and it wasn't anything I could hide.  I would turn pale and find myself praying to the porcelain gods, heaving my guts out.  Of course, this wasn't EVERY month.  I could go several months with a fairly 'normal' period--just long enough to think I was getting better--and then I would get blasted all over again.  Going to doctors didn't help much.  I was given many different pain pills and one doctor even put me on amphetamines.  Nothing helped.  The only relief I ever got was when I'd find myself in the ER and the doctor ordered Demerol injections--that's goooood drugs.  Of course, I couldn't be on Demerol every month, so the relief was short-lived.  Finally, I was put on birth control pills.  Everything changed for me then--and the biggest change was NO PAIN!  I thought I had found the Holy Grail and I was ecstatic.  For six months.  And the pain started to come back.  Going back to what was 'normal' for me came very gradually, but it was apparent that The Pill wasn't going to be my cure-all and I decided to quit taking it.  This then brought me an entirely new set of problems.  After I went off of The Pill, I would go for three months or so at a time without a period.  To bring it on, I had to go to the doctor and get a prescription--if I wasn't pregnant, I'd get my period and if I WAS, then nothing would happen.  With The Husband away sailing the Seven Seas, there was no chance of a pregnancy, so I took the pills.  This happened to me after each of the two times in my life when I was on birth control pills--and it took me at least a year each time to get back to my 'normal' cycle after going off of the pills.  It wasn't a fun time for me, at all.

Early on, the diagnosis of 'endometriosis' was suggested by a doctor.  The only thing he told me was that everything would get better once I had gone through a pregnancy.  And nothing more was said.  I didn't think much more about this and without the interwebs available like they are now, I didn't have a place where I could do any research into this problem.  I just tried to learn to live with it.  Now, of course, I realize that all of the problems I had were because of endo.  When The Husband got out of the Navy, we settled into our lives and went about the business of making babies.  Only, I just couldn't seem to do what came naturally to most of the women I knew.  It took us five years into our marriage before we had The Oldest--partly due to the endo.  (Some of the problem was The Husband and me being apart for long periods of time, but that was only part of the problem.)  After having our first child, I didn't have ANY relief from my symptoms as the one doctor said I would.  And once again, I suffered from infertility problems--it took SIX years for The Youngest to come along.  For most of the time that we tried to get pregnant, we didn't use birth control, thus the reason I say I suffered with infertility.  As it turns out, the doctor who did my hysterectomy said I was lucky to ever have gotten pregnant even one time--infertility is one of the results many women suffer with having endometriosis.

By the time The Youngest was five, I was not living a 'normal' life.  My monthly cycle was about 35 days long and for only a week out of those 35 days, I felt almost normal.  The rest of the time I suffered with PMS and painful periods.  And I mean SUFFERED.  With two young girls to take care of, I couldn't completely take to my bed the seven days of my period, but I came close.  Whenever K was home, he was in charge and I was in bed, in a fetal position, rocking back and forth, trying not to moan because of the pain I was in.  At times I thought I was hemorrhaging because the flow was so heavy.  I could barely walk because my thighs were so weak and sore and my lower belly was distended and throbbing.  It felt as if all of my body parts were about to be discharged from my vagina because of the pressure I experienced in my pelvic 'floor'.  And these were the 'good' days.  (joking)  During my non-period, bad days, I had breasts that swelled like footballs and felt as if they would burst open if they were touched--and they hurt.  I had a painful, bloated belly and leg pain.  My moods were extremely erratic.  PMS to the nth degree was the order of the day.  And every month, things seemed to get a little worse and I had had enough.

Finally, the pain and problems got to a point that I couldn't go on living with them, so I decided to try talking to a doctor one more time about what was going on.  I had never told my GYN the extent of my problems before because no doctor had ever done much to help me previously.  But, with this appointment, I decided I wasn't going to leave until I had some answers and a possible solution.  As I started to read down my list of symptoms, the doctor joined me and finished the list without ever having read what I had written.  He said I had a classic, text-book case of endometriosis.  To be sure, he was going to do a laparoscopy on me to make the final diagnosis, but he had no problem with diagnosing me before the surgery.  And then we discussed solutions.  He said he could put me on medication that was proving to be helpful, but the side-effects were not fun.  (Weight gain--possibly to the extreme--was only one of the side effects.)  Or he could do laser surgery to remove the 'bad' tissue--the only problem with that is he could not be sure of getting all of the endometrial tissue, as it has a tendency to travel throughout the body in women with endo.  Or he could do a hysterectomy.  This would--in all likelihood--completely cure me of my problems.  Removal of the ovaries--and the stopping of estrogen production by the body--was the only 'cure' that he would come close to guaranteeing.  (Some women don't find this as the answer to their endo--they can't tolerate the hormone replacement therapy I went on.)  Even though I left his office knowing that I would be getting a second opinion and doing some thinking about what he had to say, I knew in my heart of hearts that I WAS going to get the surgery.  As I told him during my follow-up visit, "I'm done using the lady parts, so we might as well get rid of them."

Since having this surgery done, I have become addicted to The Gore and have done a lot of research into how other women have and do cope with endo and hysterectomies.  Solutions to endo are pretty much the same as they were when I had my hysterectomy, but far fewer hysterectomies are being done--and more people are frowning on the solution.  While it IS an extreme solution to a problem that may not be life-threatening, that doesn't seem to be the reason so many are against the practice.  I guess a lot of women feel 'castrated' and less of a woman once a hysterectomy has been done.  They seem to define themselves by how many lady parts they have.  This is a mind set that I cannot understand.  I'm not condemning anyone who feels this way, it just doesn't make sense to me.  A couple of months after my surgery, when I was feeling better than I had felt at any point in my life, I told someone that I would have had the surgery done ten years earlier if it wouldn't have meant not having The Youngest.  I cannot imagine my life if I wouldn't have done the surgery--and I don't feel any less of a woman because I have no uterus or ovaries.  Yes, I've had to take a pill every day since the surgery, but as I get older, pills are just a way of life for me--as is the case with a lot of older people.  The HRT hasn't been a factor in any health issues I have and, despite what some reports MIGHT indicate, I feel as if it has helped me.  Given the chance again, I would choose to have a hysterectomy in a heartbeat--it was the best decision I ever made for my health.

I do hope that every woman faced with having to make the decision of whether to have a hysterectomy or not would do a lot of research and get both sides of the story.  Too many people are condemning hysterectomies as too extreme--even likening them to misogyny on the part of male doctors.  While I don't believe that, to each his--or her--own.  I just beg any woman to do a great amount of research before making any decisions, don't buy into any 'politically correct' ideas just because, and make up your own mind without being influenced by others.  It is YOUR body and YOU have to live with it.  And if God created you a woman, just because some of your lady parts are gone, that doesn't change who, or what, you are.




*A couple of years ago I needed to have follow-up mams and ultrasounds of my right breast.  There was a cyst--which they had been tracking for several years--that was larger than it had been and they wanted to make sure nothing was going to come of it. By the time I had my follow-up, the cyst had gone back to the size it had been and there was no need for any more action, other than some extra mams to make sure everything was status quo.  I have had no more scares since.

Watermelon

When I was a young'un, we didn't have access to the fresh fruit and vegetables that we have today.  We had to wait till things were in season before we could buy them, but that made the produce even more special.  Watermelon was something that we only had in the summertime--and we always had a huge one for the Fourth of July.  There was nothing quite as delicious as a piece of cold watermelon on a hot summer day--biting into the crisp, red sweetness and having the water drip down your chin.  And the best part?  We were able to eat as much as we wanted.  Pure heaven.

When I was pregnant, I didn't have the uncontrollable cravings that some women experience.  With both pregnancies, I had one craving that was taken care of with one serving of the particular food and I wasn't bothered anymore.  With my oldest, my craving/obsession came to me in the middle of the grocery store.  In the middle of February.  Where it was difficult to get fresh, 'exotic' produce.  I saw the sliced watermelon in the refrigerator case and knew immediately that I had to have it.  Despite the fact that it cost more than filet mignon, I NEEDED to have the package of watermelon.  And having the wonderful husband that I do, we bought the watermelon.  When we got home, I ate all three pieces at one sitting and thumbed my nose at our food budget for the week.  So we ate one more meal of macaroni-and-cheese--I really didn't care, as I was in heaven.  ;)  And I didn't need to eat watermelon again till it was back in season.

Now for the TMI part.  Over the years, I have joined Weight Watchers several times.  Anyone who knows about WW also knows that it isn't very cheap to be a member.  I always thought that the reason I did okay on it was that fact that I had to pay and needed to go and be weighed weekly--this gave me incentive to watch my eating.  I just could never see spending that kind of money and have nothing to show for it.  My biggest problem with WW--and EVERY diet/eating plan I have ever been on--is that I get extremely bored with what I'm doing after about 6-8 weeks.  However, I would continue going for weigh-ins for several weeks after my enthusiasm waned.  Of course, this would not go as well as expected.  As time wore on, I would give up my 'good' eating and go back to old habits.  But, I STILL wanted to show a weight loss--no matter how small.  And here is where the watermelon would come in.  If I knew I wasn't going to show a loss for the week, I would go and buy watermelon a couple of days before weigh-in.  Then I would eat it all...and wait.  After the watermelon made its way through my system, I--at the very least--would end up staying the same weight, if I didn't lose a little.  I NEVER have to waste my money on one of those late-night colon cleanser products--all I need is a bowl of watermelon.

From The WAY TMI File

If you have ever had the joy(?) of using an authentic, old-fashioned outhouse, then you know there is a certain, unmistakable odor associated with them.  I guess it probably isn't a great thing if your bathroom has that same odor after you use it, right?  :D