Monday, September 5, 2011

Dealing with Poly-Cystic Ovaries

It has only been four months since my phone call to the radiology office.  That day I heard a woman's voice on the other end of the phone tell me, in a matter-of-fact tone, that I had poly-cystic ovaries.  She said it like a.) I should know what that means, and b.) like it was no big deal.

The wrongness began about four years ago, when I started getting what I called, a 'pre-period'.  I would bleed lightly for a few days and then a week later I would have my more typical seven days of moonblood.  It was like a little pre-view of what was coming.

Back then my doctor found a rather large cyst on my right ovary.  She wanted to remove the cyst, and as she put it, "take out that ovary at the same time".  Like my ovary was some superfluous part that was just taking up space.  

I was unwilling to let her remove my ovary, so I tried some alternative methods first.  I saw a naturopathic doctor who had me try herbs and some other natural remedies to get the cyst to go away on its own.

But it didn't.  In fact, my friend Sam, as I named him, started getting bigger.  I felt like my body was trying to send me a message and so I opened dialogue with Sam, but he never really could explain what was going on.  Or I never really learned how to listen to him.

Either way, four months later I had surgery to remove Sam.  My ovary remains intact.

After the surgery things returned to normal.  I've never had 'regular' menstrual cycles.  They are about 60 days apart, a few days heavy bleeding, and a few days of cramping.  Typically I can deal with the pain or ibuprofen knocks it out.  At least that was the case until this past May.

In May I had the worst menstrual pain, no the worst pain period, that I have ever experienced in my life. This pain was worse than childbirth, worse than anything I had ever felt before.  The first day I stumbled out of the shower, almost passing out on the bathroom floor.  I crawled into my bed and lay there waiting for the black shadow to recede from my vision.  I was worried that I had another cyst.  I felt nauseous, I felt scared, and I worried that something was seriously wrong with me.

No matter how many pills I swallowed the intensity of it never wavered; and for three days I lived in fear of this pain taking over my life.

So I went back to the doctor and had the latest, in a long line, of sonograms.  The sonogram revealed that I have poly-cystic ovaries.


What this really means is uncertainty.  When my moonblood starts, I don't know how bad it is going to be.  One month I had no pain at all, another month I had one full day of excruciating pain.  This month I am so afraid of the pain overtaking me that I am self medicating at the slightest twinge of discomfort.

I have always viewed my moontime as a gift.  I honor, love, and respect my reproductive system.  Having these ovaries, this womb, and bleeding is a special power that I have been given.  But now I find myself afraid of this gift; like it has turned against me.

I have to make a whole new relationship with my body, but I'm just not sure where to start.