Daily Prompt: The Art Of Being A Woman

Daily Prompt: Tell us about the last time you had a real, deep, crying-from-laughing belly laugh.

From what I hear you lose all dignity when you go through childbirth. I suppose you do, having people’s noses in your hoo-hoo smiling ooohhhhing and ahhhinng. While you push and make all kind of noises, pushing a canteloupe out of a lemon size opening. I never thad that joy, but I did have a hysterectomy, and I can tell you that the dignity flies out the same window, without a bundle of cuteness being placed in your arms afterwards. Do not worry, this is not going to be one of my sad infertility cancer posts, it is going to be one filled with the embarassing moments that came after the surgery.

For those who do not like bodily function stories this might not be the post for you. For those who are thinking about having a hysterectomy, this might be helpful. Funny things I wish I had known. Husbands and companions, your wife, the one who goes into surgery, will not be the one who comes out. I do not mean the hormones that make Linda Blair from the Excorist look like Mother Teresa either. I mean her body, will do things she will want to run and hide from.

My hysterectomy for uterine cancer was July 2011. When I woke up from surgery, on of the first things they told me was that I would need to try to tinkle. Tinkle? I could barely walk, and they wanted me to walk to the restroom to tinkle? Then the words, if you cannot do it on your own we will have to cath you. Some women’s bladder does not want to wake up. I shuffled my way to the potty. I sat and sat. I ran warm water over my hand. I kept the water running. Not even a drop. I asked them to bring me a pitcher of water. I drank it all. I just knew it would do the trick. I painfully shuffled to the restroom. Tried all the same tricks. Nothing.

And to add insult to injury, the gas they had used to blow me up like a balloon, was wanting to work its way out. I looked like a bloated pregnant woman trying to get her water to break. It caught me funny. It hurt to laugh, so I held a pillow to my stomach. Then the comedy troop came in. Five wonderful black cnas, they had been given charge to cath me. I do not know why it took five. I know one did keep missing. OUCH! I informed the one who leaned in really close to make sure she was threading it correctly that I had gas. “Oh girl, please don’t let it go now!” That made me laugh even harder, I do not know if I did or didn’t.

In preparing for my surgery, I had ready you want you bowels to be soft. So when they asked me what I wanted for breakfast the next morning I though healthy. Oatmeal. As soon as I finished that oatmeal, my Mother and I literally watched my stomach get bigger and bigger. Oh it was aweful. Word to the wise, do not eat oatmeal the day after your surgery. I would use my pillow to gently push and I laid on my left side trying to get rid the pressure.

Once things started healing I thought my body would get back to normal. I have always had a Bladder of steal and colon to match, now, if the urge hits, I better be close to a restroom. If not, this 39 year old body, does not act like a 39 year old body.

To bring me to the last time that I really laughed about it. It is eaither laugh or cry. This is one thing, I decided to just laugh about. The other day I had tinkled, taken a shower, and then climbed into bed. Next thing I know I am having a sneezing fit, in the fit I am tinkling all over myself! So I am sneezing, tinkling, laughing, and running to the bathroom. My husband just laughed with me. He has gotten used to it.

Advertisements

About Hope

I am forty year old survivor and a five year old victim of sexual abuse. I live with severe depression and anxiety, and in 2013 was diagnosed with DID and PTSD. My journey is to reintegrate my alter and the adult me into a whole person, healthy person, and one that can empathize with others.

I would love to hear your thoughts. Please leave a reply.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s