18 months after a super painful surgery, and 6 months after a pretty freaking horrific course of Lupron treatments, I’m super excited to tell you guys that I am COMPLETELY CYST FREE!
This means, no surgeries for the foreseeable future and also NO MORE LUPRON.
Thank you all for listening to me whine…
xoxoxo
Healthy Uterus Rhi
My body hasn’t been the same since my surgery last summer. I came out of the operating room with 3 incisions and a bloated, uncomfortable belly. For a few weeks, I was confined to yoga pants and dresses with basically no shape. Once the bloating went down and my body returned to as normal as it was ever going to be again, I was injected with powerful hormones that would render my body unrecognizable to me.
This was not on the list of side effects given to me when I agreed to this treatment. My doctor gave me the go ahead to begin working out again on the same day she prescribed the Lupron. I worked out with a trainer several times a week with the goal of weighing a certain amount by my 30th birthday. I noticed that my body was changing – but not for the better. On one day in October, during a training session before work, I had my weight and measurements taken.
I weighed ten pounds more. My thighs were larger. My hips were larger. My body fat percentage had increased. I cried the entire way home. I mentioned this to my doctor during a check up – and she told me, “This treatment is changing your body – you just have to eat less and work out more. ” I cried all the way home from that visit, too.
So, of course, I did the smart thing and didn’t work out again. IT MADE SENSE TO ME, OKAY? Needless to say, I met my 30th birthday at a weight I had never hoped I’d see. I didn’t recognize my body. I moved the full length mirror that resided in my bathroom to the guest room, eliminating any chance that I’d catch a glimpse of myself getting out of the shower. I stopped trying on clothes when shopping.
Those close to me know tht the second round of Lupron affected me much more than the first. Coupled with a new job and new commute, I was exhausted in the evenings. Sometimes I went to bed before eight. Also? I was NOT PLEASANT to be around. I damaged some relationships because of my inability to a) be patient b) be wrong and c) make an effort. I was too tired, too cranky, too hot, and too depressed.
At the end of March, I was given a clean bill of uterine health and the Lupron started to wear off. I would have loved it if the extra weight that had accumulated around my abdomen also wore off, but it didn’t. I had a choice – toss all my very expensive jeans in the Goodwill pile or make sure to fit back into them again.
I put Jillian back in my DVD player and Couch to 5K back on my iPod. I discovered the wonder that is Fitness OnDemand. I started paying CLOSE ATTENTION to what I was putting in my mouth (I’m sure my coworkers still have not forgiven me for telling them that there are 1,000 calories in a Taco Del Mar Taco Salad). I started bribing myself with adult beverages (WHATEVER WORKS). The boy told me when I got to my goal weight, he’d buy me a new pair of jeans.
And, for the first time last week, I put on a pair of pants and they were loose. I stepped on the scale, and the number it showed was smaller. I still have a way to go. I can accept the scars that endometriosis has left on my body. I will not accept the damage Lupron has done to my body.
Oh, and crap on a cracker, I’m wearing a bikini in Las Vegas in TWO DAYS.
It’s no secret that I have a strong distaste for my name being mispronounced. I don’t like it. I typically hold judgment for people who genuinely try to pronounce it correctly. It is hard to say, and if you’re trying, that says a lot. I do not hold judgment for people who have known me for quite a while and have just stopped trying. To continually call me “Rayann” because that’s just what you’ve gotten used to calling me? This is a) not okay and b) disrespectful. In these situations, I reserve the right to either give you a nickname you probably won’t like, or mispronounce your name in a way you won’t like. Also, I’ll correct you.
But, right now? I have bigger fish to fry…
Situation A) I call 24 Hour Fitness to freeze my gym membership, and a telephone agent whose attitude suggests to me that he has better things to do answers. I tell him my account information and my name and he says, “Oh, like the singer.” I say, “you mean like the song?” He says, “No, the girl who sings Umbrella.” I use all my willpower to not hang up on him and politely say, “No, not like the singer. My name is different.”
Situation B) I’m test driving a car at a local car dealership. The salesman asks my name and after I tell him, he says, “Oh, what do you think of your namesake’s current relationship.” I very politely explain, “NO, MY NAME IS DIFFERENT.”
And, actually, I’ve been asked what I think of the situation many times – some people were joking, which is fine. Some people were serious, which is not fine. Am I supposed to have some sort of special insight because this girl’s name is similar to mine? I’m not sure why this bothers me so much, and is it just Lupron Rhi that it annoys? Can someone remind me – did this bother Regular Rhi?
I’ll leave you with this:
Situation C) A woman named Jane from Comcast leaves me a message. She has a lovely British accent. I call back and she tells me that she was excited to see my name because her father is Welsh, and she had a cousin called Rhiannon. She pronounces it perfectly and never once mentions a certain 20 year old singer.
That is all.
Last week, I read a post of Margalit’s on menopause. Seven months ago, I would have skipped over the post, perhaps wrinkling my nose while telling myself, “Thank GOD that’s decades away for me!”
HA.
Instead, I found myself nodding along to most of the symptoms she mentioned. The hot flashes, the night sweats, the increased abdominal fat, I have them all. But, while most women take years to slip into menopause, it happened for me in a matter of days.
But, it’s over, almost. On April 1, I’ll start taking birth control pills again and I’ll wait patiently for my body to get back to normal. I look forward to remembering what normal is.
I look forward to not waking up twice a night in a pool of my own sweat. I’m hopeful that the extra chub on my tummy will disappear (although, sadly, I think I’ll have to work at that). I’m excited for my skin to clear up. I’m thrilled that I can put this all behind me.
Until things get back to normal, I must warn you. The hot flashes have doubled, and if there’s one thing Lupron Rhi hates? It’s having her hair ruined by a sweaty head. So, the pissy mood? It’s here for a while. But, I know you all have a soft spot in your heart for Lupron Rhi.
Hello. I’m writing you from my couch where I’ve been writhing in abdominal/back pain all day long. Also, I threw up twice, which you do not care about, but I can’t get a hold of my mom and she’s the person I’d normally tell these things to. This morning, I diagnosed myself with Appendicitis. But, it’s probably just a kidney stone, which I can deal with on my own. But, I reserve the right to complain about it every step of the way.
Anyway, that’s not why we’re here. We’re here because some people drive like complete assholes, and because I’m not one of those people, I’ve decided that I should share my driving wisdom with you all.
And, you thought you all missed Lupron Rhi…
