The Surgery

After a bit of how-will-I-get-there-and-back drama, my friend Jimmy was able to drive me to the hospital in High River. What a champ!

I had a sign-in at 10 o'clock as my surgery was scheduled for 11:30, and after the regular strip down to a chilly opens-to-the-back gown and pregnancy test, my nurse put in an IV.

Now, I'd like to say that the experience was void of discomfort, but no.

I'm a pretty anxious person when it comes to medical stuff. Sure, I stomp around all confident

and opinionated, but when it comes to being cut open, I'm shaking like a leaf. My intake nurse seemed clumsy. Bumping into things, knocking stuff over...not really in the excusable bad day way, but in the way were she seemed like she didn't really know what her elbow was doing all the time, even though it's only inches away from her hand. In my nervousness I asked her (just before she stuck me with the IV), "Are you good at this?" Her response was, "I've been in maternity for 30 years." I replied, "Yeah, that's not what I asked." In hindsight, I believe she may have taken the question personally.

So she poked me really hard and it hurt and I bled a lot. I totally cried and yelled a little bit. I hate getting IVs. Luck on my side, I'll never ever need another one. She also got the IV tangled in the sleeve of my gown. The single, foot-wide sleeve on my hospital gown. In the sleeve, out of the sleeve. That didn't work, still tangled. Repeat.

So I sat on the bed in misery, the following thought running through my mind:

WHAT IF I'M MAKING A MISTAKE?

What if I decide after the surgery that I'm not really as sure as I thought I was?

Should I cancel?

It's too late to cancel. Do you think I could run away?

No, you'd have to pull out the IV, idiot.

Oh god, I'm going to die. I am. Goodbye world.

Okay, you're not going to die. You'll be fine. This is the right thing. You know this.

And then a fresh baby (the mother was being coached how to breast feed for the first time) in the curtained area next to mine started to cry. Loudly.

It actually made me feel a lot better. I knew I was making the right choice.

As I was wheeled into the OR, my nurse bumped me into walls, counters, the door. I actually had to catch the IV line so it didn't get stuck on the door handle and yank out of me. I was in quite a state.

Then I saw my surgeon. The incredible Dr. Bailey. She took one look at my face, sent the nurse away, gave me a blanket, and in all of this, calmed me down completely. I clarified where she'd be cutting me (in my belly button and the width of 4-5 fingers below that) and I was walked into the OR proper.

I skootched up onto the table and reclined. The anaesthetist started messing around with my IV because it wasn't flowing properly and I felt a small but incredibly painful explosion in my hand. A clot had developed and obviously needed to be cleared before he could do any sedating. I was crying again at this point, so one of the OR nurses gave me a bunch of oxygen and then I was made unconscious, thank goodness.

My mother is the one who came to pick me up, although I have no memory of it. Apparently I dressed myself (rather slowly, much to my mother's annoyance) and walked out of the hospital on my own.

I was prescribed 600mg tablets of ibuprofen because codeine makes me barf and away I went.

The surgery was on Wednesday and I was back to work on Friday. Aside from discomfort wearing jeans, I felt great! I also have rad little scars.

My recovery in the last month has been easy. Zero complications, only a smidge of pain for the first few days when a cat stepped on my gut, and a little bit of swelling.

I made the right choice and I'm glad I did it.

Exactly What Are They Doing In There?

As I mentioned yesterday, my surgery is on January 11, 2012.

Being the absolute glutton for punishment that I am, I thought I should find out exactly what's going to happen when Dr. Bailey heads into my guts with a knife.

I will be having a laparoscopic tubal ligation. A small incision is made near my belly button and they will have a full view the exterior of my to-remain-vacant-forever baby shack. All of this will be happening under general anaesthesia, by the way. I'm a glutton for punishment, but I'm not a masochist.

So anyway, there's supposed to be another incision above my pubic bone (or near my belly button again, depends on the surgeon) where a whole entire other instrument is inserted to help with the tube-grabbing.

At this point, teeny clamps will be clicked onto each of my fallopian tubes and I will be sewn shut with dissolvable thread. The clamps look like little mouths.

I'm now imagining a gag gift of a bikini or speedo made of this dissolvable thread and am amused....

Anyway, this is considered a permanent procedure. Reversals are expensive, not covered by Health Care, and not always successful. When my GP told me that the chances of conceiving (if I had the clamps removed) were in the range of 30% maximum, I actually said, "Sweet! I have a 170% chance of NOT becoming pregnant then."

Dr. Bailey told me that the surgery will take 8-12 MINUTES. In and out. And as previously noted, the downtime is one day after the surgery. To be honest, that's one of the most appealing parts of this whole thing, the fact that I'm not going to be on my ass for two weeks. A couple of sick days and I'm set.

Here's a video for anyone who'd like to look inside a lady. I hope my uterus has better wallpaper.

The failure rate of this surgery is about 1%. And hey, wikipedia says that having a tubal ligation may reduce the risk of ovarian cancer.

Obviously, as with any surgery, you run the risk of infection, reaction to the anaesthetic, allergic reaction, blood clots, nerve damage, etc. Thankfully, according to one site, these risks are really, really low (fewer than 1 in 100 procedures). I like those odds.

There's also this:

"[L]aparoscopic tubal ligation is about six times safer than driving and two to three times safer than being pregnant."

I am confident that I'll be totally fine.

That said, if anyone wants to send me flowers to increase the rate of my recovery, I will happily accept them.

A Very Informative Chat

While I was recuperating from a different surgery, I had a consultation with a gynecologist in High River about the tubal ligation.

I will tell you right now that Dr. Bailey is one of the most intense, intelligent women I have ever come across. The woman beats around absolutely no bushes, a trait I personally appreciate.

We discussed my health, sexual and medical history, my desire to have the TL, my knowledge about the odds of conceiving once the clamps are in place. We are woefully misinformed about the efficacy of birth control by the way. I can't help but think that if we could let go of our puritanical, sex-is-the-devil frames of mind, we would be a much healthier society with less slut shaming and misogyny. Unfortunately we seem to be taking only steps back instead of forward.

I digress.

Dr. Bailey asked me how long I've been on the Tricyclen and what my periods were like prior to going on the bc. I've had terrible periods since day one. Cramps to the point of vomiting and a couple of days laid up in bed. She actually recommended that I stay on the birth control after my operation in order to maintain menstrual comfort (for lack of a better word). She passively inquired about the existence of a man in my life but didn't imply that there should be a long discussion with anyone as it's my body.

We also discussed alternatives to the TL in case I didn't want to "slam that door shut". For instance, with Mirena (an IUD), the door would only be locked for 5 years. Not only that, but my period could stop completely while it's in.

The expected down time for the surgery is 2 days. Yes, TWO. One in for the surgery, one off to recover from being that high. My surgery's even already scheduled.

January 11, 2012 I will be admitted to High River Hospital and voluntarily rendered infertile. I'm actually pretty excited.

To be honest, the only frightening thing about the whole consult was the posters of old-timey contraception on the walls.

The lengths women used to go to to prevent unwanted pregnancy astound me. Even with the medical leaps and bounds, pregnancy is still incredibly dangerous for women. I cannot even imagine what it must have been like, even 60 years ago.

The birth control pill wasn't available for women until the late fifties. Canada didn't legalise it until 1969! Some religious groups consider contraception "homicidal" and there's a movement in the United States to make miscarriage murder. Recently shut down was a bill in Mississippi in which personhood would be defined as beginning at conception. This means that anything preventing implantation of a fertilised egg would be considered, literally, a murder weapon.

All I can really say about that is I'm grateful I live in Canada right now.

Also, a bit unnerving: there was a male medical student present for our chat. Now, it's not that he was there. It's that he was surprised when I said "fuck yeah bodily autonomy" while signing my surgical consent forms and the doctor replied "aren't you glad you don't need a husband's permission anymore?" He said, "What? Permission?" The poor guy has no idea how much things have changed since the 70s even. Actually, I just checked and in some States, the surgeon can require spousal consent prior to performing the tubal ligation. Unbelievable.

The Consultation

On November 14, 2011, I will be meeting with the gynecologist to whom my doctor referred me. She and I will be discussing my options regarding a tubal ligation.

One of my biggest concerns is that since I've been on a hormonal birth control for almost 13 years and when I don't take it for a month I suffer from debilitating cramps, how will my body react to not having any hormonal assistance at all?

I'm pretty excited to not be at risk of pregnancy.

The Click

From childhood, I never really wanted kids.

Whenever I played house, I was a single "mother" taking care of siblings rather than my own progeny.

I never cooed or ooohed or awwwed over babies because I always found them kind of useless.

As I grew older, I began to believe every person who said that "one day [I'd] change." I've even been told that my aversion to children is odd because I'm very good with them.

Motherhood is so ingrained in us, so expected to be the next natural step in life, I was completely liberated when I discovered that no, I never want to be pregnant. Not only that, but that it's actually okay.

Some of my friends have children. I LOVE those babies. They are wonders and they are gifts and they are excellent in limited exposure. I would do anything for any one of them.

But I do not want my own.