Citrus Days

I'd always been so fond of citrus fruits. In the past, lemons, oranges, that sultry tangelo, limes and tangerines were all flavors that my palette always took a fancy to. Don't get me started on greyhounds either, the elixir of the gods meshed with vodka and (hopefully) fresh grapefruit that always makes me smile. It's a refreshing mood lifter, and a grapefruit is usually something associated with sass, health and freshness -- until someone refers to said fruit as the approximate size of a (benign) mass that is growing in your uterus. Pass me another drink, I say.

After a routine exam a few weeks ago my doctor decided she "felt something down there", as I mentioned. After an ultrasound ruled out immediate death and dismemberment, I had the luxury of waiting a week, playing phone tag with various medical personnel and lingering questions attached to my doctors vague email telling me, "yes you have fibroids, let's set up a call to discuss". "Discussing" anything with a doctor is usually not pleasant nor simply about the weather or how great my bikini line looked that last exam.

It turns out I have a cluster of fibroids, about 4 inches in diameter, roughly the size of a grapefruit. I was kind of hoping for a mango or maybe one lemon sized, but this affliction decided to not be that simple. There is no neat or clean trimming of the lump from my lady cave. My doctor recommended that we wait and see, since we're not sure how long this growth has been there and if it will grow any further. It only causes me mild discomfort and doesn't distract from my daily routine, but it does dampen my dreams of having flat abs.

This junk in the trunk (or is it glove compartment?) is large enough to make a dent in me, the way I see it. It's not a cause as to why it's hard for me lose weight lately, but I bet I'd lose at least a pound if I got it removed, heh. I have the option of surgery, but we'll cross that bridge when it comes after my next ultrasound in January. It also brings to the forefront life decisions that I wasn't sure I was necessarily ready to make just yet, but that sort of were already made in my mind anyway. You see, I've never been one to pine for children. I don't even really like kids, never mind dreamt of actually having one (see, I almost typed 'owned' there instead, like I was going to get one off eBay when the time came anyway). I pull a total Samantha when I'm out in public or dining and there are kids in the establishment. I mean, the nerve to bring them in here...yeah, sometimes I'm that lady, but only if the children are actually seen AND heard, or misbehaving (which they usually are in greater metropolitan areas).

Due to the nature of this growth, the size and location, it wouldn't be an easy surgery per se. A myomectomy can be performed (where they just remove the mass and leave the uterus in tact) but I would have a chance of some major scar tissue. Let me tell you, some of the images I've seen from these surgeries make me squirm long and hard -not for the faint of heart. My doctor pretty flat out told me that I should "consider my future and desire for pregnancies" if I have surgery. Not only is there a chance fibroids come back, but a 2nd surgery to remove a new growth would probably ruin the environment for any childbearing.

It's one thing to decide for yourself if you want kids, it's another to have a professional TELL you, that chances are slim and "let's hope that grapefruit doesn't grow to a watermelon!" You know, because every girl wants to the be one who "carried a watermelon". I just get to carry a fruit instead of a baby, that's all. I'm ok with it, but it's not really something in the forefront of my mind everyday and it sure isn't pleasant to think about when the option is really taken away. Welcome to adulthood, life is hard. Decisions weigh more than they did 5, 10 years ago. And I do too.

Since my mother and I don't really speak and she hasn't visited a doctor in more than 25 years (we'll go into therapy later), I am also in the dark about my upcoming medical journey or what MY life will be like as a growing adult woman. Every day is a new adventure! Apparently my grandmother and great aunt had them, and my aunt also dealt with the issue mildly. It's not officially proven that fibroids are hereditary, but it predispositions you for them if your female relatives suffered from them.

I've been doing a lot of research on the subject obviously, as with any diagnosis the internet is a cruel bastion of sin and worst case scenarios. It gives me pause to reflect back on who I am, what I am made of and how I live my life. It also comforts me to know that there are many, many women (About 20% to 80% of women develop fibroids by the time they reach age 50) who have them, some knowingly, some have no symptoms or clues. It enrages me to read websites catering to bible thumpers who say that fibroids are caused by lifestyle choices, lack of faith in God or because of what ideals you truly believe in. Gimme a break. I just hope that other women out there know that is NOT the case. Just like gay marriage doesn't cause natural disasters, it sure as hell won't cause a tumor to grow inside of you.

Of course I sat there, and currently sit here with this lump in the love cave, ready for a surgeon or spelunker to divide up and conquer, but that day may or may not come. Until then, I get to become acquainted with this grapefruit. I get to feel it. Acknowledge it. Ask it questions, like "Are you full of all my self-hatred, self-consciousness and self-deprecation? Is that where I carry it? Is that what caused you?" or "Are you full of all that cheese I've eaten my entire life or is it red wine?"

Maybe it will be good to give up a part of myself. To science I say! Overnight stays in the hospital and get well cards and lots of bears could be in my future. Or not. Regardless, I get to spend the next few months thinking about my status as a women, my fertility, my body as it continues to challenge me daily and NOT play nice, and the citrus fruit inside of me. One thing's for sure, I won't be any less tart.