Good Bye, Mrs. Right?

What the fuck? I’m starting to think my infertility is just a way for doctor’s to siphon away all of my damn girlie organs. I went in today for a pre-surgery appointment to discuss the removal an endometrioma, which has set up shop right outside my left ovary. During the course of conversation (if that’s what you want to call it), the surgeon’s assistant said something like this:

“The MRI showed that your right tube is filled with some type of bad liquid.  We should just remove it, if it’s okay with your RE. You’ll need to sign a form saying you understand that it will render you sterile," said the evil assistant.

What? WHat? WHAt? WHAT?!?!?!?!?

I told her I could not sign a document like that today. I know that I am basically sterile, but to give someone permission to make me OFFICIALLY sterile (I already don’t have a left tube), is not my idea of awesome. I immediately emailed the Witch Doctor, aka my RE. Do you want to know what she said?  She advised that I let them take my tube. I broke.

It’s like my wall of strength totally shattered. I could not hold myself together. I went to the bathroom to suck back tears, but it didn’t work for long. I had to abandon my husband and go to the car to cry. Poor fella had to pick up my doctor’s note explaining to my job that I’ll need a THIRD SURGERY IN 12 MONTHS.

I’m a complete emotional disaster. DISASTER. I called my boss, who I hate, in tears. He is the one person who I do NOT want to show any morsel of weakness, but I couldn’t go to work with a tear-stained face, swollen eyes, and on the edge of crying over any and everything.

The conversation from the doctor’s office kept playing over and over in my head. 

“Have you thought about having children naturally? That’s the problem with hormone treatments, they make your endometriosis grow,” said the bitch of an assistant who for some reason thought I was undergoing all of this shit out of choice.

I had just gotten over thinking that God hates me. I mean LITERALLY JUST gotten over it, after three years. Then this happens. I know I can come off as cavalier in doctors’ offices, but that’s because I’m trying to keep my soul above water. I guess it backfired because this lady apparently thought I went to an RE for fun.

I turn 35 in two days. My family comes into town tomorrow. I have a birthday party in three days. Somehow I have to turn on the charm and behave like I am ok. I’ll do it too. There’s one thing this has all taught me: the world won’t stop over my troubles. No one cares a single bit, and that’s okay because I don’t care about their problems either. It’s just the way the world works.