Fibroid no more…

So it’s been four months since my surgery. I can honestly say it’s been a long road and recovery had its ups and downs. I have more energy now, and I have been feeling much better. The healing process takes some time and I know it’s still happening but I’m exercising again and lost a few pounds. I worry that the fibroids can come back again… but as long as I continue to take good care of myself I am hopeful that they won’t. The belly is still tender where they cut me open because the nerves are still healing. But other than that I feel fine. I wear a brace around my belly if it ever feels awkward. My stomach muscles are strong and I don’t feel lethargic and anemic anymore. But maybe a blood test is needed.

Advertisements

My Road to Recovery… Facing Fibroids!

If you are reading this and you are a man… I applaud you and thank you for taking the time to learn about women’s issues.

For those women out there who are experiencing hormone changes and issues with cystic ovaries, PMDD, and fibroids,  I want to share with you my journey and I want to hear about yours too.   This is my road to recovery and maybe we can all journey together.

 A month ago I had invasive abdominal surgery to remove a 5.5 cm fibroid from my uterus that was pressing down on my bladder for years.  It was slowly growing and as it grew I felt more and more uncomfortable.  I had several symptoms: anemia, frequent urination, constipation, bloating, mood swings, weight issues, long periods, and mid-cycle bleeding.  I have also had miscarriages in the past.  I am now in my early 40’s and I finally found out these symptoms stem from uterine fibroids.  (Although I believe fibroids are ALSO a symptom of hormonal imbalances).   All the symptoms I had started right after I stopped taking birth control pills in my early to mid-thirties which I believe played a large part in creating this imbalance.

While some women opt out from surgically removing these fibroids, I needed to remove it immediately due to major discomfort and actual pain.  I have heard that fibroids are caused by estrogen dominance in the body.  But not all estrogens are the same so you may have just one form of estrogen out of wack and traditional testing may not test for this.  Then there is progesterone… or is there?  That’s another question.  It’s pretty confusing and time consuming doing the research, but it’s important to learn as much as you can about balancing hormones because doctors tend not to focus so much on the cause as they do the symptoms.

So here I am today with a swollen belly due to the surgical incision, and everyday I get stronger and stronger.  I am continuing to eat healthy and organic as I had done before, and I can’t wait to start exercising again.  I have lost about 11 pounds since my surgery and I hope to lose more.  I just wish I knew for sure that the fibroid won’t grow back again.

Please feel free to share your experiences with me.  It’s a great opportunity to empower women and help us learn more about our health.

Are you smelling my crotch?

Baby talk is cute now, isn’t it?  When you see the perfect little face with the perfect little smile and you hear the perfect little “coo”, you just know what’s gonna happen next… Your face contorts, your lips pucker out, and you let out a high pitched squeal.  Following this comes a whole bunch of jumbled cutesy words we have come to know as the dreaded “baby talk”.

OK, now imagine that cutesy little face is on a DOG…  and if you love animals like I do you won’t be surprised to know that, YES, I baby talk them too.  In fact, I can’t help myself.

A year ago I decided to watch a neighbor’s dog for a month while he was hospitalized.  The dog was so extremely matted and dirty that I totally had to get her groomed and cleaned up.  She was a shitsu so this breed needs frequent trips to the groomers. I cleaned her up, walked her three times a day, took her to parks, and gave her lots of love.  While I know she was loved before, the poor old man who was her “human daddy” had trouble taking care of himself, let alone his dog.  So I invested in her happiness.  Her happiness made me happy.  Her fitness was my fitness as we took short runs together down the street.  Her comfort was comforting to me.  Her peace was my peace.  Animals truly bring peace and love to those around them.

Needless to say, when I had to give her back, my heart broke into a million pieces.  BUT for that month she WAS mine… she was a “wittle, cutesy wootsy doggy” with the “cutest wittle face”.

The “cutesy wootsy” and I were on our way out for a walk so we took the elevator going to the lobby of the building.  For some reason she couldn’t stop smelling my crotch.  Now don’t get any ideas about me… I’m as clean as a whistle… (not that that’s any of your business anyway!)  Back to the story… Instead of getting annoyed I baby-talked my way down to the lobby.  “Are you smelling my crotch?  Are you?  You silly doggy.  Are you smelling my crotch?  Oh yes you are!  Yeah you are you silly girl.  Are you smelling my cro…”  I was so involved in my conversation with the dog that I hadn’t realized we had reached the lobby about halfway through our discussion about my crotch.  We were no longer alone.  Two people waiting for the elevator heard what I can honestly say was an extremely intimate moment between me and my dog.

But do I regret it?  “Do I regret it?  No!!! No, you silly wittle gooses, of course not!”

Baby, oh baby!

Seems everybody is having babies.  Everywhere you look you see another pregnant woman and millions of tiny people running around with snot hanging from their noses.  Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE children.  At times, I consider myself one.  I just find that most of the people my age are living life in a zombie-like, sleep deprived state of being due to these little beings that occupy their every moment.  And I find myself being everybody’s favorite Aunt, which means I get to babysit, wear stain resistant clothes, and start every conversation with “Sweetheart”, “Baby”, or “Don’t Do That!”. I used to regard my friends as fairly intelligent beings… but now it’s all about the best preschools, mommy-and-me yoga, play dates, and discussions on what not to say in front of the children.

Obviously, I don’t have children.  I have lots of experience with them… maybe that’s why I don’t have them.  Do cats count?  If so, I have 2 feline babies and I didn’t gain a pound in the process.  Now that’s being smart, sweetheart!Image

Sleeping with Cats

He nestles within the covers in a comfortable cocoon.

She curls up on my legs and purrs a happy tune

And when they are all cozy, warm, and sleeping in my bed

There is nowhere for me to move or lay my tired head.

As soon as I fall fast asleep the sun comes peering in

The room is filled with sunlight but I want to sleep in

She tickles me with whiskers and pounces on my chest

He tips over my alarm clock and wakes me from my rest…

Smile Always,

-J

Image

Country Mouse/City Mouse

I am a City Mouse

I was once a city mouse, The playground was the street

I climbed and ran and jumped, on concrete beneath my feet.

I ran into the sprinklers, on hot, sticky summer days

And tanned upon the asphalt roof, to soak in all the rays.

In wintertime I bundled warm, and fought away the blues

I dreaded the rushed subway ride, with slush under my shoes.

Over time I became a country mouse, or some may say “small city”

I drank in sunny rays down south, at first it didn’t fit me.

After time the vitamin D soaked in and I grew warm

The creases in my mouth grew deep, a smile it did form.

With the city life behind me, but not forgotten yet

I always said I missed the pace that city life could set.

I am again a city mouse… BY LOCATION!

But the country mouse inside of me… NEEDS A VACATION!!!

Smile always,

-Julie

Image

My legs are moving, but there are no pedals under my feet.

I used to teach fitness classes 6 days a week.  My most favorite being cycling (or some call it spinning).  If I taught more than two a day my mother would crack the joke that I was “recycled”.  She’s cute, isn’t she!!!

At 36 years young, I threw myself a curveball.  I made a decision to change my path in life.  This path led me back home, across several states, to the home I grew up in.  I had a destination, but no direction…  My life is in sheer chaos and I am holding the pieces together.  Let’s just put it this way, I am not recycled!!!  And I miss it!  WIthout exercising daily my center is a little off to the left.  I recently started teaching boxing and pilates classes at local gyms and this past week I finally got my big break and received a cycling class. (Perseverance baby, perseverance)

Now let me tell you, I am used to a pretty smooth ride on nice new bikes and this was nothing of the sort.  I had to prove myself in a class with old beat up bikes and no microphone.  I was told the only way I can keep the class is if I win them over.  (No pressure… really!?!?)  So what did I do???  I won them over!  And I did it with style.

I am picking up the pieces.  I will not fall, I will not break!!!  I love myself too much to give up.  I am at a crossroads and what I do now can either build me up or break me down.  I will cycle my way to better physical, mental, and emotional health because baby, that’s the only thing right now that is keeping my pieces together…

Smile my friends,

-J