Recovery Day #4

Today is my first day back to work since I had the procedure done. When I get to the office, before I actually make it to my desk, I am stopped by my boss and co-worker (two of the few people who know why I was out).... They ask me about the details of the experience and well...I told them all of the gory details. I recount the whole ordeal for them, their eyes squint, they breathe deeply, and grab their crotches, as I lead them through every excrutiating moment. They are physically responding as though they have literally gone through the same pain. They are incredibly sympathetic and they also have horror stories to share with me about a daughter or a friend - stories related to ovaries, bumps, and cysts. You name it, we talk about it. So actually the first 1 hour of my day I spend sharing this experience with them and hearing them tell me how pitiful I look and how sorry they feel for poor me. They all give me the "Poor girl" look when they see me sliding slowly around the office ..I can't walk too fast or else, you guessed it...PAIN!

I notice pretty early on that this will be an uncomfortable day. I forget my butt cushion pillow at home and, of course, the bottom of my office chair is like a board of sand paper. ARGGHH!! There are piles of files, papers, telephone messages, and emails all over my desk that I need to respond to. I start feeling overwhelmed. Even still, I dig in and I'm able to accomplish quite a bit before I leave for the day. I do good though, I take it easy all day. I don't meet with any appointments though several people are waiting to see me. No way am I going to sit and listen to other people's problems when I have a much more pressing problem of my own.

You know, I leave work early today - I have a dental appointment. From one office chair to another. The dentist said my teeth are in good shape...at least something is going right in my life. So, it's 4pm and I'm back in bed relaxing. My husband isn't home...I hope he's at the grocery store getting us dinner because I'm starving. Oh, come to think of it, it's time for me to take my LAST antibiotic pill!!!

Today, coincidentally, guess what I got in the mail? You'll never guess. I received a note from the she-devil gynecologist who did the surgery. Let me tell you verbatim what the card says "Thank you for giving us the opportunity to provide your obstetric and gynecologic needs. We look forward to serving you in the future. We are delighted to have you as a patient".

I should send a reply that says: "No, I insist let me thank you for providing me with the most excrutiatingly painful experience of a lifetime. Thank you for poking and proding me until I started crying hysterically and freaked my husband out. Thank you for terrorizing my vagina and being part of the life-altering decision that we've made to NEVER have children. "

I'm so glad it's over... at least until I go back to have the Word Catheter removed.