Goerwitz

For starters, I'm seventeen, and I've always had an irritable stomach, so I never really paid attention to it. But for about six months before we found out, I was having such horrible symptoms that were in sync with my period, that I finally told my mother I thought I should see a doctor. I hadn't seen a doctor in about two years because I was perfectly healthy other than this.

1/13/03

I was nervous about the doctor's appointment because I was scared that the doctor was going to want to do a pelvic exam, but I knew something was wrong so I explained to her, "No matter what I eat I've got diarrhea two weeks out of the month, and I'm constipated the other two weeks. I think it might be connected to my period." So the doctor, who was trying her best said I should try to eat a lot of fiber. And she didn't mention anything about the diarrhea. So, then she told me to hop up on the table, and I did, and she was feeling around my abdomen. Once she started that, she asked my mother to leave.

"Caitlin," she asked, "could it be possible that you're pregnant?" I thought for a second about how to tell her I was a virgin, "There's no way." So she made me take a pregnancy test anyway, and it came up negative. So, she called my mother back in, and explained my uterus was enlarged. (It felt like a very firm balloon,) She said that she was recommending a sonogram, and not to worry about it or anything, but schedule it and it would probably be about 6 weeks until I could get in for the sonogram.

So, my mom and I drove home, and I was somewhat stunned. So she called to make an appointment for the sonogram, and miraculously, we got an appointment for two days from then.

1/15/03

I had to drink a quart of water for the sonogram. I drank it right before we left for the appointment, and we arrived early, and they were running late. I was sitting there kind of wondering if I was going to wet my pants in front of the entire waiting room when a kind looking woman called me in. I got up on the table, and we'd been warned that she wasn't supposed to say anything, but we were very nervous about cancer because my father's mother died of uterine and cervical cancer. My mother also had breast cancer six years ago, so I was aware of the possibilities.

The woman put the wand on my abdomen, and was looking around, and mentioned that my bladder was indeed very full. Then after a couple minutes she says, "Oh, honey, you've got a big cyst." Then she let me pee. I was so happy to be doing that, I was almost unaffected by the news of the cyst. Then she wanted to do some more looking around, and so I got back up on the table, and she called in a superior and he said, "Check the kidneys." That's when it really hit. I could've had cancer.

On the drive home, my mother was trying to explain to me what I already knew. I cried the whole way home in traffic. Then about an hour after we got home, we told the rest of the family what was going on. And then after that, the doctor's office called and explained that I had a cyst that was 17 centimeters in one dimension. So, we'd found out what was giving me diarrhea. they told us to make an appointment with a gynecologist as soon as possible.

1/16/03

My mother was on the phone all day trying to get me an appointment, but the soonest one was in March or something, so she called our doctor's office, and got them on it. I was able to get an emergency appointment with a guy... I had told my Mom I didn't care who it was as long as it was a woman doctor. Oh well.

1/17/03

The appointment was for 4:30 pm, but I didn't actually get into the room until after 6. I was so stressed, and scared that I had my mother in the room with me the whole time. But he was a really great doctor, so it must not have been that horrible. After the examination, we spoke in his office, and he said he would need to operate. He showed me what kind of incision he'd use, etc... Then he told us what days to keep open, and we left.

1/27/03 - Surgery

Two weeks to the day after my cyst was discovered, I was in surgery. I'd asked the nurse if she could take a picture of the cyst, which I had named Owen. We waited for what seemed like forever, and the nurse finally came to take me into surgery. By this time, I'd gone into a sort of stunned amazement. It wasn't a dream, it was really happening. I was surprised at how calm I'd become. Once in the operating room, the nurse asked me what music I liked, but she didn't have any of my favorite (heavy metal) bands, so she put on the Counting Crows. When they gave me the anesthetic, I felt almost panicked, but too tired. It was like I was passing out, but also like I was drowning, and something was pulling me down.

I was out in about an hour and a half. My parents waited the whole time in the waiting room. They got the picture, and were told to wait in my room. When I woke up in the recovery room, a nurse noticed, and she sat me up. That was about the most painful thing I've ever experienced. I still couldn't do anything but blink, and my reaction to the pain was to tense my abdominal muscles. That made it so much worse, I had to loosen my muscles, and try to communicate with the nurse. After about five minutes, enough of the drugged fog had cleared that I could say, "Put the bed down."

Then I nearly threw up from the morphine, and after about an hour of the recovery room, a very nice man whom I'd met on my way into the hospital wheeled me (over very bumpy tile floor with 1/2 inch wide grout grooves) into my room. The transportation was extremely painful. By the time I was actually in my room, I was in so much pain, all I remember is voices. I told my parents that they could go because all I was going to do was sleep. I slept with the little morphine button in my hand all night.

A couple notes for future laparotomy victims: 1) while sleeping on your back may be the most comfortable, they will have to flip you a couple times in the night so you don't develop pnemonia, or something 2) They will give you an extra pillow to sort of cup your gut (which will swell immensely) while you lie on your side, I recommend using it and 3) the vampire patrol comes early in the morning - they come in early in the morning to draw your blood, and if you're scared of needles, this isn't such a pleasant experience.

So, in the end, he took out my right ovary, fallopian tube, and my appendix, which looked a little irritated.

1/28/03

I was so doped up that day, I barely remember much. I did have a catheter, and that made life a whole lot easier, until they took it out in the afternoon. Going to the bathroom was a hassle because I couldn't get out of bed by myself, and I had to wait for a nurse to come and help me.

And they made me walk down the hall and back. NOTE: stop and sit down if you get nauseated! You will probably throw up, and considering your abdominal region has just been sliced into, this will hurt a great deal. I did throw up from the morphine, luckily I was still on a liquid diet.

Then the surgeon came to visit me in the afternoon. He had with him, a small metal object. (I'm not sure what it's technical term is, but i call it a staple remover...) My mother still remarks on how my already white face went whiter when I saw it. He said this shouldn't hurt. He angled my bed back, and took off the gauze. Just him peeling the tape off was enough to make me cry. Then he removed, the staples, and it hurt a ton. All that remained was some surgical tape.

But for the most part I slept all day.

1/29/03

My mother and my sister came to visit me, and they stayed most of the afternoon. My sister was bored so she asked if she could drink my tea, and I said yes. So, she took this salt packet and poured it into the cup. And she made me laugh. I started yelling at her to get out of the room, and she got really scared. I started crying again, and tried not to tense my stomach, but it was too late.

1/30/03

They wouldn't let me go home until I passed gas, which I thought was really horrific. And the doctor put me on a solid food menu, (I will never eat jello again!) so I was able to eat, but the food was very yucky. I ended up giving most of it to my father who hadn't eaten anything. By the end of the day, I was released, and my parents drove me home. I do not recommend calling your friends (after they've given you a large dose of Darvocet) to tell them you're coming home.

The ride home was very bumpy. I noticed every stinking pothole on the road. I was so happy to be away from the hospital with the vampire wake up calls, and to be in my own bed. It was very nice. Except my father made me laugh and I ended up sobbing, and cussing him out. I didn't see him much the rest of the week, he hid in the garage.

And the best news was that my cyst hadn't been cancerous. Huge, but not cancer. After I saw the picture I understood why I'd been so sick for so long. It's not that I was very overweight, and I didn't have a big gut, but it was hidden really well. It weighed three pounds, and was 17 by 15 by 11 centimeters. It looked like a cantaloupe.

I'd lost eight pounds from before I went in to a week post op. The doctors said it couldn't have been there for more than about two years, but I remember feeling different around thirteen, so who can say.

By two weeks, I was able to get out of bed without swearing. But I wasn't wearing underwear yet. The tape had come off by this time too, and I had my post op with the surgeon. I'd had a Vikadin perscription, and had only taken a couple of the pills because they made me dizzy. But I'd also had an Ibuprofen prescription for 600 mg pills. I took those primarily. He said I was doing well, and he'd see me in a month.

After three weeks, I was wearing jeans again, and my coloring had returned. And I felt pretty darn good. But my back also went into spasm around this time from the lying in bed most of the time, and that hurt really badly.

By a month post op, I was about 95 percent recovered. I still had to take it easy because I overdid it a couple times, but I felt great.

At six weeks, I had another post op, and the surgeon said he wasn't happy with my scar. It was turning into a keloid. (A keloid is where the scar tissue continues to grow beyond where normal scar tissue would stop, so you get a really big, sometimes gnarly scar.) So, he told me I could either have a steroid shot, or it would grow until it decided to stop. It would be purely cosmetic though, and fearing needles, I declined. So, now it's about half an inch wide, by 4 and a half inches, and sometimes blue or purple.

So now, three and a half months later, I'm feeling rather groovy, except, I can't lie flat on my stomach, and I can't stretch out my scar. And all of those bad symptoms from before are gone. And my period which was never regular, now comes every 28 days at 11 PM. Which I think is kind of humorous. And the first two periods were kind of weird because I had horrible PMS, and my hormones were all thrown off.

Caitlin
tanktwit@pacbell.net

Richmond,CA

Amy and Richard Goerwitz
Amy@Goerwitz.com
Richard@Goerwitz.com