How I thought today was going to go:
Wake up, work at the school from 8-5, work at the restaurant from 5-11, come home, relax with Isaac, sleep.
How today actually went:
Woke up at 6:30am sobbing because of abdominal pain, went to work at 10:30am when the pain lessened, left work at 10:45am to go to the doctor (something felt wrong), blood tests, urine tests, scary metal objects going into scary sensitive places, awkward exams by a man with much too large hands (he didn’t even buy me dinner first, sheesh!) lots of pushing on throbbing abdomen, nasty contrast drink, and finally a CT Scan.
While waiting for the CT Scan results I texted my mom saying that the pain was dull now, everything just kind of hurt and it felt like there was a golf ball in my stomach. From what my primary doctor had said, we were fully expecting to hear that I probably just had an ovarian cyst burst, but it might be an appendicitis. Either way, not the worst thing in the world. I was positive.
The nurse called me to the front desk and put a phone receiver in my hand, my doctor was on the phone. “You have a cystic mass in one of your ovaries. It doesn’t look like a normal ovarian cyst, it seems more complex. I need to review your chart and x-ray more so I’m going to call your cell in a bit, okay?”
That word is all I kept hearing over and over again in my head. A mass. I walked, rather floated, back over to Isaac across the waiting room and wasn’t even sitting down before the words came spilling out of my mouth. “There is a mass in my ovary, doctor says it’s complex. He’s going to call me later today with more information.”
It took everything in me to not burst into tears. A mass?! I need that word out of my head. He wasn’t calling it a cyst, he called it a mass. Sure, mass can be and is used all the time to describe perfectly harmless growths, but I hate the word. Isaac and I left the Imaging Center at 4pm and didn’t hear from the doctor until 6pm. It was a very long two hours.
My doctor said that it is indeed a complex mass and the x-ray technicians are not calling it an ovarian cyst, but they aren’t NOT calling it an ovarian cyst. Basically, they need me to go get it looked at more before a true diagnosis can be made. My doctor is making me an appointment to see an OB/GYN on Monday morning who will perform more tests to see what kind of little mass we are dealing with. Actually, it’s not little at all. It is the size of a baseball. A freaking BASEBALL.
I’m not freaking out yet, I’m trying not to freak out yet. There is a really good chance that the OB will run a few tests and see that it is just a bizarre ovarian cyst and it may or may not have to be removed. I am trying to let that be the only possible outcome in my mind.
So instead of spending the rest of the weekend going on runs in the sun and catching up with a friend who was supposed to visit, I will be laying in bed hoping my baseball-sized “baby” decides to stay the same size and not cause more pain, or we are off to the Emergency Room.
I’m not posting this for sympathy or anything, trust me my family and friends have already been amazingly supportive and encouraging! I’m always welcoming prayers though! Writing helps me process emotions, feelings, and thoughts. It helps me put everything into perspective. Whew, I actually already feel better putting everything on “paper.”
For now, I will keep cracking jokes, staying positive, and telling Isaac that our “baby” is going to look just like him while trying to not laugh at my own hilarity (it hurts). We are now referring to it as “Tamara” and I am making Isaac call me “Tia.”Wish us luck for the rest of the weekend! I’ll keep you posted.