By way of an update, the writing on Wrong Lead was going great at the beginning of the year. In spite of our daughter’s demanding activity schedule (quiz bowl, track, FFA CDEs and LDEs, studying for a an AP exam…), for which I am her driver, cheerleader, etc., I was getting at least one chapter done per week to take to critique. I was just about halfway through and right happy with how it was going. Vi…not so much. What can I say? That’s her lot in life. She’s got Malcolm by her side, so don’t worry too much.
Then, in February, my own story nosedived into an unexpected chapter. This happens sometimes. I prefer, as the author, to do it to characters, not to have it happen to me.
I found out I needed surgery.
- It’s long
- I’m about to spew TMI, my friends, so if you’re squeamish about that sort of thing, you might want to skip to where I cut to the chase
Then again, if you enjoy my books—which aren’t necessarily graphic, but don’t exactly shy away from life’s realities—not to mention if you are, or ever have been, a horse/dog/cat person, I’m guessing you’re going to hang in here with me through the tough spots just fine.
Okay, so, one day in February, I noticed a teeny-tiny bit of spotting. Being fairly recently, but firmly, post-menopausal, this gave me… pause. I knew it wasn’t normal. After a few moments of careful blotting with a tissue to be sure of where it was coming from (hey, if you have children, you might also have hemorrhoids, just saying. Reality, people), I went to the computer to research what I might be dealing with.
None of the possibilities were good. I called my OB to make an appointment and learned she had moved. Like, out of state. Of this, I had not been informed, thank you very much! Now I had to find a new one.
You know what that’s like. Are they taking new patients? How far away? Do they take my insurance? I was able to one fairly quickly, and someone I like, too. Thankfully, that part was relatively easy.
My exam was normal, but they always ultrasound when post-menopausal women present with bleeding. The exam was on a Wednesday. It wasn’t until the following week that I could schedule the ultrasound. This is when we found that I had a GIANT (their word) cyst on my right ovary. Seven centimeters. Did I learn metrics in school? I did not. If you’re in my boat, that’s a little less than three inches or about the size of a tennis ball. Maybe not really giant. But how do you have something that big inside and not know it? Where did it come from? Why was it there? No one had answers to these questions except shit happens.
There was also a smaller cyst on my left ovary. She asked me if I had pain from them. I said no. Both cysts were normal looking, my new doctor said, smooth edged and fluid filled, except for right here–she pointed to a gray area on the screen that could have been anything–so we’re going to do blood work, send you for a CT scan, and make an appointment for you with a gynecological oncologist…