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Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Friday, June 27, 2014

Hysteroscopy D&C. Oye.

When I had the pre-op consultation on Tuesday, I learned that today might be more than a simple biopsy. If, while she's in there looking around, the situation warrants it, there will be a C to go with the D. The D was a given. I'm not crazy about the D, but relieved to know that it will be done with increasingly larger somethings rather than by pitocin. (Maybe some of those will be Deep Blue Somethings?)

Hey, I've never had one of these before. And there's so much I don't know about gynecology. My life heretofore has been blessedly uncomplicated in that department: PMS from menarche until menopause. Cramps added to the recipe when I hit 40. No hot flashes. A gradual unwinding from Hey We're Fertile, Myrtle. Five or six years of silence from my girl bits.

I will update after the procedure.

In other news, I have been finishing projects right and left. The fourth picture from last weekend is now properly seated in its frame. I sprung for a nice frame for my favorite skinny poster and put them together after work last night. I've finished the painting on another project and am in the process of sealing it with matte acrylic. Stinky business.

I've borrowed a laser level from a friend and have spent part of the morning moving more stuff out of the dining room so I may rip up the carpet. Which will obviously not be happening today.


It's later. I'm comfortable. Especially since I am now able to eat and drink. We went to Black Eyed Pea. I inhaled a roll and butter, my red beans and rice, my glazed carrots, and a few bites of my ginger sesame salmon. I also ate the half dozen bites of broccoli that garnished the salmon. Testament to the wonder which is ginger sesame sauce.

Apparently I snored during  the procedure.  Can't have been anywhere near as impressive as Beloved's snoring. One of the few things about him that I do not miss. I always felt as if I were sleeping in the flight path for military transport.

They gave me two anti-nausea meds which must have done the trick. All I felt was bubbly pressure in my stomach, which is quietly and steadily mutating into what I suspect will be industrial strength toots in a couple of hours. The pressure, not my stomach. I kinda need my stomach. I'd like it to stick around awhile.

I might still be the teensiest bit loopy. No comments from the peanut gallery.

Oh, and I'm officially down 30 pounds, and they did a fresh EKG before the procedure because my heart rate was 40. It's nothing dangerous, just a level 1 something where the bundle of stuff that coordinates my heartbeat is not quite right, so something else is coordinating it, and that part is all que pasa? Again, nothing to be concerned about.

I'm going to put my wedding rings back on and drink a few bottles of water and watch some Psych and maybe take a nap. Although I'm starting to feel hungry again.

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