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Journey Through Hysterectomy, Part 3

4/28/2014

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PictureDespacho (group offering) for 4th Chakra.
    In Part 2, I left out the fact that my blood test results were mailed to me before I saw my gynecologist to discuss everything.  I knew about the diabetes risk, and immediately cut out sugar and gluten.

    But, somewhere between my first and second appointments with my doctor, Petra, my dear friend whom I met during my first Shamanic training in 2009 contacted me about a special opportunity.  She and Suzannah, another friend from that period were offering the Nusta Karpi in Asheville.  It's a series of rites connecting participants energetically to 7 Goddesses, which are linked to 7 mountains in Peru and also to the 7 Chakras.  It was to happen in 3 weeks time.

        I was drawn to sign up, but hesitated.  Is this a good time to receive the Divine Feminine, while I was possibly moving towards hysterectomy?  Would it be better
to receive them afterwards?  To help me recover and re-unite? 
Unless it was determined that my case was so bad, an emergency procedure was recommended, I'd be receiving the rites before whatever medical stuff I needed.

    My sonogram appointment hadn't gone well.  The technician, who was oddly cold and distracted by my inter-uterine views on screen, had blurted out "did your doctor say you need a hysterectomy?" while the probe was in my nether regions.  Aside from being angered by her inappropriate question, I was also upset.  All along, I knew hysterectomy was a possible ending, but we were still information-gathering, darn-it!  Meanwhile, I was altering my diet and trying to exercise more, to escape diabetes.  I had a lot on my plate!  Is it time for Shamanic work?  I discussed my conundrum with Petra. 

    Together, we concluded that it was the best time for Shamanic work.  The Nustas (Goddesses, Karpi means rite) would help me through the journey as soon as they were within my Luminous Energy Field (LEF).
  So, with some anxiety about all the changes that were coming, I signed up.

    Before the Nusta Karpi, I had my second appointment with my doctor -- the one where she recommended a hysterectomy and I was cool, until I cried in my car (in Part 2).  The Nustas were March 21 - 23 and my surgery was April 11th.  When I arrived for the rites, I knew my surgery date and had been on a stricter version of the diet for about a week.  After all the health issues I'd been concerned with, I was joyous to going into something I love. 

   
Once again, meeting the other participants felt like a homecoming, though I only knew Petra, Suzannah and Kim, another participant.  Though men are invited to partake in the Nusta Karpis (Petra's also had a group of 3 men and 3 women), our group was all women -- and how beautiful and varied we were!  During our personal introductions, it was clear that all of us needed to be there at that moment in our lives.   We heartily shared the deepest, heaviest stuff we were dealing with.  I was a graduate of the Four Winds training, but I'd never felt the special bond of working together, so instantaneously.  It was wonderful!  As we received the rites, each Goddess had a different flavor of love, support, wisdom, etc. to share and the overall energy kept growing in a multidimentional way, not just rising, but intensifying and deepening with each new Goddess.  The Nustas work together within us, and Petra emphasized that with time and work after receiving them, we will be able to distinguish the individual voices of the Goddesses, but sometimes they all speak as a group -- how feminine is that trait? 

   
I realized that the Goddess energy is only tied to having a uterus, or any particular feminine biology, like a beautiful landscape is tied to the fact that it's made out of atoms -- we don't engage with and admire the atoms and they come in all forms.  The presence and love is so much greater than our physical bodies, gender, dichotomies and small concepts.  Yet, instead of being overpowering, the sweetness with which they held me, was and still is personal and beyond compare.  It was a blessing, a gift to be there and I'm so grateful to Petra, Suzannah -- for hosting, and all the glorious women in our group.  We held the space for each other to step in and work with our obstacles and difficulties first, so that each Nusta could come and be placed like a perfect rose on the mantle of a clean, beautiful house.


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Journey Through Hysterectomy, Part 2

4/24/2014

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    Though I had hoped/assumed the uterine fibroids would go away, I'd largely forgotten them -- which is odd for deliberate and fastidious me.  Instead, after travel, signing up for adoption, then quitting that program (a long story that's explained elsewhere), I began my transformative Shamanic training with the Four Winds Society. 

   
This lead me to new levels of healing and understanding many of my wounds from the past.  I cleansed, cried, laughed, made new friends, facilitated healing for others, found my tribe, received rites and participated in many sacred ceremonies and fires since then and am ready for more.  In many ways, Shamanic training felt like a homecoming -- something I'd not expected at all.  I was stunned by the beauty and so grateful for all the experiences I had from my first training in that steamy Summer of 2009, til the present.  

    Within that time frame, we also moved to North Carolina (Chapel Hill, but really Chatham County).  This realized another dream of mine -- to live in a peaceful, wooded area, free from people looking in your windows and traffic noise, but still near to the funky and wonderful community of Carrboro.  I believe the Shamanic training helped to open up this possibility for all of us:  me, my husband, my mother (who lives with us) and our two dogs to live in a relaxing, nurturing environment at last. 


    We moved in 2011.  After the initial exhaustion of that transition and labor wore off, I became much happier in many respects.  But, by 2012, I began to notice a new sensation:  stiffness in my hips, especially when getting up after sitting for a long time.  My treasured Belly-Dance lessons had to cease, along with the running that I'd done in preparation for my 2012 Peru trip (the cardio helped me climb those mountains and breath that thin air, but soon after coming home, the stiffness worsened).  I went to a doctor and found out that I had Hip Dysplasia (common in dogs, but also a birth defect or birth trauma in humans).  This per-disposes me to arthritis in my hips because they never were protected or properly aligned -- indeed, the x-rays confirmed the damage had begun.  I was told that within 10 years I would need both hips replaced. 

   
As you can imagine, this news was not very easy to digest.  But, I soldiered on.  In April 2013, I had a hip arthroscopy -- my first surgery, which ended up improving my state exactly zero percent.  I cut down on hip openers in Yoga, then stopped teaching all together and began swimming laps -- something that still feels immensely good in my narrowing list of exercises.  I was working on accepting my body, having compassion, so I found myself focusing on writing, Shamanic work, friends.  With my activity curtailed to walking, swimming and gentle yoga, I gained some weight.  By Christmas, 2013, I was my heaviest.  It had been a few years since I'd ended my 16 year stint as a vegetarian and I was thoroughly enjoying the organic, free-range burgers, local brews and wines and all the great restaurants in the area.  Also, I was allowing myself to eat sugar, too much sugar. 

    While this was going on,
something else began to creep up -- my bladder control seemed to be slipping.  There I'd be, enjoying a long walk with the dogs, or driving and suddenly, I'd be hit with a powerful urge to pee.  This happened more and more frequently and accidents began to happen.  Also, because of my weight gain (of 10 lbs.) it was not so visible, but I noticed that my belly was round and felt very firm.  I started hating at least 50% of the candid photos of me, I looked heavy and even pregnant.  After the New Year of 2014, the bladder symptoms happened several times a week and even twice some days.  My bowels sometimes joined the rush when I finally got to that toilet or tree.  Also, my stomach:  queasy when I'm hungry and queasy after I eat -- I had to cut down on the amount I ate (not a bad thing).  I occasionally experienced faint, unidentifiable burning sensations in my lower belly, especially when anything pressed on it, including my lap desk that I use for my lounge-chair writing, because my office chair hurt my hips.

    It's embarrassing to admit, but these troublesome symptoms didn't add up until a Face Book friend of mine (you know who you are) announced she was having surgery for fibroids.  When I was writing my supportive comment on her page and mentioning that I had them too, a light bulb went off.
  "Hey, maybe mine have grown.  Maybe all the pressure down below was due to that.  When was my last gynecological exam?"  I hadn't been in almost 2 years -- somehow I'd forgotten that too!  I felt like a fool.

    I immediately called for an appointment, emphasizing that I suspected my fibroids have grown, otherwise the wait for an exam under regular circumstances would be over a month.  I described my symptoms and the receptionist seemed to agree.  My doctor saw me the following week.
  During the physical exam, she sensed with her hand that my uterus seemed to be bigger than last time.  She took some blood for various tests and had me schedule a uterine sonogram at another location.

    My follow up appointment, during which time we'd discuss the results from the blood test and sonogram, came about a month after my first taking action.
  I remember feeling a mixture of nervousness and resoluteness.  I've always rather known more and had a plan of action, instead of hiding from problems.  We discussed the blood test first.  Besides being low on Vitamin D (after our tough winter, who wasn't?), she pointed out that I was at risk for diabetes and recommended cutting or lowering all sugars -- except honey or molasses,  gluten and corn, then handed me a sheet of paper outlining a more detailed "elimination" diet.  Now, I'm not too friendly with the concept of a diet, because it's difficult to not feel resentful or deprived and I don't like blindly following what others think is best for me.  How could they know, when every other person these days has a weird allergy?  However, the word diabetes frightened me and I'd successfully cut things out of my diet for health crises before, so I agreed without flinching.

    Then, we focused on the other issue.  The fibroids were big.  There were 3 that were the size of oranges.  My uterus was comparable in size to 4 months of pregnancy and all my symptoms made sense.
  She was surprised I didn't have more acute ones and that my periods weren't extra heavy or painful.  Though I could wait -- try acupuncture or other alternative healing practices, with the diet (corn, gluten and sugar all feed fibroids), the best option is a hysterectomy and soon.  If the fibroids got larger, she'd have to do the proceedure the old-fashioned way -- with a long incision on the belly.  As they were, she thought she could do it laproscopically, using cameras and instruments on tubes and making 3 very small holes in the belly -- the recovery for this technique is much easier.  She recommended removing everything except for my ovaries, so I wouldn't plunge straight into menopause.  I was relieved at that, and after I'd heard all her answers about my long-term prognosis after the procedure:  feeling much better, having more energy and no periods, I said, I don't want to wait, let's do it now.  At the end of our discussion, she asked how I was and I said, ok, I feel really good about this decision.  I paid at the front desk and was weirdly charming, if spacey as I was handed a list of operation dates to choose from.  I said, I'd check my calendar and call tomorrow.  Then, I went to my car and had a good cry in the parking lot with the spring breeze blowing through my windows.

   
It was really going to happen.  I was going to lose something I'd tried so hard to accept.  Also, it was almost a year since my hip arthroscopy and I had to prepare for another surgery.  Aging is not for the weak!  This was going to be interesting.
 
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A Journey Through Hysterectomy, Part 1

4/18/2014

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     It's been a week since my hysterectomy and I feel the urge to share, though I'm not sure this entry will be as organized as past ones.  I'm not at the end of my journey, but the phases of my story and their insights are becoming more clear.

    As a synopsis of my background (for those who haven't read everything I've put up on this site), my relationship with the Feminine has been one of struggle, conflict, disappointment,
grudging pleasures, glimpses of acceptance, growing comfort, synthesizing disparate factors, glimmers of the divine, stepping in (pulling back less and less) to embracing and allowing it to flow -- though I still feel more room to grow. 

   
None of this journey has been easy and countless times, my body has born the brunt of a negativity which started at childhood.  I went from identifying more with boys than my own sex, to being forced to shed those alliances in return for the pains of puberty, within the framework of a dysfunctional family.  

   
Since my first period at age 13, the following 10 years of that cycle entailed regular pain for 2-3 days each time.  I remember at 16, I'd missed the school bus and was biking the 5-6 miles to school on day 1 of my cycle.  I was struck with a stabbing pain that almost felled me and had to walk the rest of the way, arriving late to my first class.  I also remember the emotional pain and frustration of trying to find jeans (how are people wearing them so tight and not going mad?), bras (36 D and you want a sports bra?) or worst of all, swimsuits (too many gripes to list) to fit a body that seemed determined to resemble Marilyn Monroe and attract tons of negative attention.  I desperately wanted to look as strong as I was (so no one would mess with me) and even considered becoming a body builder, until I learned of steroids.  The fact that my 5ft. hourglass figure could accomplish tree-climbing, body-surfing, gymnastics, and pull-up bar feats was my secret -- I felt that I looked like a creme-puff -- it angered and depressed me.  Additionally, instead of enjoying some kind of charismatic power from my physique, I had pimples, various stages of bad hair, braces and weird clothes.  I was called ugly and was continually picked-on, stared at, and was having my butt pinched by hands that would disappear into the anonymous crowded hallways.

    As I grew older and male attention became less of the negative variety, I carried those scars and memories -- which I medicated with sweets (a very ancient crutch) until yeast or bladder infections became my bane.  In my mid-upper 20s, I
lowered my sugar intake and those symptoms faded, even my skin cleared.  I loved sex, maintaining a romantic relationship (from college) and got married at 26.  

   
But, by age 28, my focus had turned to trying to have a baby -- a dream which never came to pass and I had to abandon (see more about this all over this web-site).  Every month my body created symptoms of pregnancy (I read several books on it), only to be dashed by the arrival of my very regular period.  For about a year, at around 29-30, I tried Western fertility treatments, getting as far as taking 3 months of Clomid, before quitting that approach.  The final cycle of Clomid damaged my left ovary -- it ached with every ovulation afterwards.

    I've already written a lot about my fertility quest, but what I want to emphasize here is that the frustrated desire to create stymied my energy in new, subtle ways -- who has time to write or draw with a wish so all-consuming?  Those old passions were shelved, but in other ways, my life was blossoming with yoga study/teaching, creating a home, having friends/social life and feeling like I finally looked good (mostly).  Then my sharp, one-pointed focus would return and return and return to the uterus:  what's happening?  how am I feeling?  when am I in my cycle?  what am I doing wrong?  As more time passed, I was again disassociated with my feminine-looking body (despite practicing advanced yoga poses with it, being a vegetarian and having a strong immune system).  I felt this body ought to give me a baby -- it should be easy and I'd have a natural child-birth at home!  I was looking forward to that adventure.  I was frequently asked:  "how many children do you have?" which showed me that the assumption was shared by others, but it still didn't match the reality, no matter how strongly I wanted, prayed, bargained, relaxed, self-affirmationed.


    I eventually withdrew from the fertility quest.  At age 38, I was told that I had 3 ping-pong ball-sized fibroids in my uterus.  This was upsetting, though I had no troubling symptoms.  By then I'd understood that fibroids are common and  caused by blocked creativity, a la Dr. Christianne Northrup and are an indicator of a larger social malaise that many US. women experience -- putting others wishes ahead of your own.  I thought at the time, is that me?  Nah!  I'm no push-over.  I entertained the idea that they could be caused by my fertility search, but then thought they should go away by themselves, because I was no longer making those demands.  Except for being disturbed by the thought of nourishing something in my body with no function, after a bit, I forgot them.  I was between international travels, deciding to adopt children and mulling entering Shamanic training and moving. 
I'd also discovered Belly-Dance and was enjoying learning this beautiful way of expressing and celebrating the feminine body without society's usual double standards or harmful judgements about shape/size etc.  Surely this would make them leave, right?

    



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    Author: Allegra

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