I wanted to journal my experience with a full/radical hysterectomy as a 38 year-old childless woman.
I’ll try to make this as short and sweet without a ton of details. If you’re interested in more of a background or more detailed information, feel free to reach out to me.
The Decision
Since I was a teen, I’ve battled heavy periods. I ended up in the emergency room several times as a teen with excruciating pain every month. After trying birth control for a while, I finally saw someone else about the issue that was more trained on period pains. Through ultrasounds, they discovered I had cysts and believed I had endometriosis. The doctor put me on Lupron Depot to induce menopause to see if it would help with pains. It was a definite awful moment in my life. It worked, but it was only temporary.
After six months, the relief from pain was back. At that point, the doctor decided to give me a laparoscopy to determine if I had endometriosis. After a long surgery, it was determined I had a pretty severe case of endometriosis. Everything was removed, but it was told to me it’d come back. He said, at some point, I would need to consider a hysterectomy.
Fast forwards 12 years, the surgery in combination to long-term birth control, my endometriosis was pretty controlled, along with my PCOS (Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome). In November 2022, I began to have several breakthrough bleedings. By January, I was in the emergency department again. I was unable to stand straight due to pain. I was given fentanyl, and I was still feeling pain. In April, I was back in the emergency department for the same issue, but this time given morphine. In between those months, they discovered I had several fibroids and signs of adenomyosis. After seeing several doctors, it was recommended by many to have a hysterectomy. I had been preparing for this for years.
As a 38 year old woman, with no kids, it’s not an easy decision to make. I definitely took my time thinking about it. I finally was scheduled for June 23rd, 2023.
Second Thoughts
I have always had anxiety. Leading up to the surgery, I almost canceled a few times out of fear. Fear of pain. Fear of recovery. Fear of death (extreme, I know, but possible). What if it doesn’t take away my pain? What if something goes wrong? Am I making the right choice? Will they not find anything?
Thankfully, I attend therapy anyway for other topics, but we had a conversation about the surgery. It really helped to remind myself of why I was having it done. No one needs to live in chronic pain or on medication for their life to mask chronic pain. Anxiety over surgery is natural. It would be more worrisome to not be anxious about a major surgery.
As I arrived at the hospital, I cried. I cried from fear. I cried from the unknown. I cried at the loss of a big piece of me. I was immediately brought back into surgery to prep. My nurses were absolutely amazing and calming. I can’t thank them enough for their jokes and calming personalities. I can’t thank them enough for making me feel comfortable and supported.
Before I knew it, I was out. I barely confirmed my name and birth date before I was out. But then, I woke up. When I woke up, all hell broke loose.
Surgery Day
I woke up from anesthesia with excruciating pain. I was thrashing around in the bed, crying, and screaming. “It hurts so bad! Oh my God, it hurts!” I’ve had a laparoscopy before, but this was much more painful than every before.
I was almost immediately surrounded by nurses to make sure I was okay. They filled my IV with pain meds. Despite waiting and waiting, the pain never disappeared. I continued to cover around with tears flowing from my eyes, waiting to feel nothing.
At that point, anesthesia came back and gave me a TAP (Trans Abdominal Plane) Block shot. It’s similar to an epidural, but in the front. Apparently, they have me it in the OR as well when I was out. It’s meant to completely numb the area for pain. Getting it in was rough. They needed an ultrasound. Worst of all, I swear I squeezed the nurses hand strong enough to break it. I felt bad after, but she was incredibly understanding and supportive.
I was in PACU (post-anesthesia care unit) from about 9:30 a.m. to about 3:00 p.m. I can not compliment that nurse enough. She was absolutely amazing at everything!
Now, most people go home the same day for a hysterectomy. However, due to my background, they recommended I stay. I obliged, as I had my own concerns. I honestly think it was the best decision for me, too, stay overnight.
So about 3:00 p.m., they moved me to an observation room.
Immediately, they made me walk. Normally, I wouldn’t talk bathroom talk. However, I think it’s important to have this conversation for those considering a hysterectomy. So prior to moving beds, I knew I needed to figure it out.
Prior to surgery, I mentioned that I needed to pee. They told me “not to worry” because I would have a catheter. Apparently, they drained 1,000 CCs from me, which is about 33 fluid ounces. Thank you, teacher bladder!!
After surgery, while in the PACU, they placed a Purewick system on me. Basically, you pee yourself, and the machine vacuums it up immediately upon sensing liquid. My first pee after surgery was horrific. It was as if someone poured gasoline on me and set it on fire. The amount of effort in that first pee was exhausting. It was incredibly embarrassing, too. Who urinates on themselves? Regardless if a machine collects it, it’s degrading. I HATED it, but it did save me from having to get out of bed.
So apparently, I had quite a bit of dark color. It wasn’t really concerning, apparently.
For those unfamiliar, a Purewick system looks like a thin pad that sits between the labia. When you pee, it auto detects it, goes into a tube, and gets vacuumed.
I swear I have a purpose to this story.
After moving to my observation room, I had to pee again. It was hurting so badly with the pressure. So once I got into the room, and before they helped me into the new bed, I told them I needed to urinate.
They made me walk to the bathroom. That sounds so lazy, but it’s hard to understand unless you’ve been there. They told me they were taking away the Purewick system to encourage movement.
I wanted to be violent towards them for that. It felt like I had two cinderblocks attached to my non-existent uterus. It was absolutely horrible. I didn’t realize how hard walking, standing up, peeing, and even turning was. I can’t imagine what women with C-sections go through. I have a whole new respect for them, for sure.
But I did it with lots of help. Again, it took a while for the urine to finally come out. It burned again, but not as bad as the first time. It was ridiculous how much I peed. I swear I peed for about two minutes straight. Even the nurses were like, “Oh my… you really did hold it.” I told them, “Thank you, teacher bladder…” Those that know, know. They laughed. Humor is good medicine.
When I stood up with help, I saw a ton of blood. I was mortified, but I was also not surprised. Before I could address the concern, they told me it was “normal,” so I let it go.
Getting back in bed was another battle. Again, I didn’t realize what muscles I now couldn’t use to their full ability until I had to use them.
Once I got into bed, I started my clear diet: chicken broth, popsicle, and cranberry juice. I want excited for it, but I understood their decisions (wanting to tolerate food after anesthesia, preparing if something happens, etc.). I finished the meal and dozed in and out of sleep for a bit.
I woke up with a ridiculous pressure to urinate, AGAIN! Between the IV drip and me drinking, I just knew today should’ve been renamed to Urination Day. I don’t think I’ve ever peed so much before in my life. It was horrifying and oddly good. This round didn’t hurt at all. It was completely clear. No blood at all! I had hope!
I went back to bed and dozed in and out of sleep, scrolling on my phone, etc. That was until the nurse director came in. She wanted to check to see how the nurses were doing and making sure they informed me of everything. I let her know that these were the best set of nurses I’ve ever had and reassured her that everything was good. I brought up some concerns (Chapstick, ice/heat packs, Gas X, etc.). She handled each one almost immediately.
After she left, I scrolled through my phone, updating people, watching videos, etc. Eventually, I fell asleep for a little bit. The rest of the night went pretty well. My mom stayed either me until about 6:30 pm. I did as much walking as I could and used the bathroom as much as I could. I still haven’t had a bowel movement, which is a little worrisome. But the doctor said it’ll be like that, and I shouldn’t worry until I hit a week. Although, I’m not sure I could go a week without a bowel movement.
After a long day, I dozed in and out of sleep through the rest of the night. Sleeping in a hospital is no fun.
Angel Boucher 