The TMI Post*, Part One
If you clicked on the “Upcoming Events” tab of my website during the last few months, you saw that I was planning to have a booth at Art On The Avenue in October. I applied, I was accepted, and I was excited to do that event. As it turns out, I have to withdraw from participating this year. I was going to quietly update that section of my website without giving a reason, but that didn’t feel right. When I thought about explaining why I have to withdraw, however, I felt uncomfortable doing so. But then I thought about why I felt uncomfortable, and I realized I really should talk about it.
Okay, enough dancing around the subject.
I won’t be able to do Art On The Avenue this year because I’ll be recovering from surgery. I have to have a hysterectomy on September 9th. Thankfully I don’t have cancer, but I also don’t have a choice. My uterus has to go.
Why does it feel so uncomfortable to talk about it? Last fall I had to have surgery on a dislocated toe, and it was no big deal to tell anyone and everyone. Of course this time it’s major surgery, and it will include staying at the hospital for at least one night. But if I were having major surgery, say, on my liver, it wouldn’t feel weird to talk about. I would be nervous and probably afraid of the recovery, but I wouldn’t feel embarrassed. I wouldn’t feel this little twinge of irrational shame that I’m feeling right now.
Logically I know this is crazy. If a friend told me she had to have a hysterectomy, I wouldn’t feel embarrassed or ashamed for her at all! I would give her my love and support; I certainly wouldn’t look at her any differently. I never expected I would feel this way, but I do. It’s taken me a while to work through it, but I think there are a few reasons why.
When I was in high school, I remember my 12th grade English teacher had to have a hysterectomy. We had a sub for 6 weeks while she recovered. I can remember all of the moms whispering about it. (“Did you hear? She has to have a hysterectomy.“) Raised eyebrows and knowing glances were then exchanged. I don’t remember any of the male teachers or dads talking about it. At all. This was a woman’s private business, and she was supposed to keep it to herself. It was clear that it made everyone uncomfortable.
I’ve started to tell people. And while I’ve been tempted to simply allude to what’s going on, I tell myself that I need to be brave and just use the word “hysterectomy”. Close friends and family have been wonderful with their love and support; I’ve truly been humbled by their response. Other people, however, are clearly uncomfortable and feel awkward, or they don’t say anything at all. They seem to be embarrassed or ashamed for me, and they don’t know what to say.
So there’s that.
And then there’s the unexpected emotional reaction (at least it’s been unexpected for me). Again, if I had to have part of my liver removed, I’d be nervous about the seriousness of the surgery. But I don’t think I’d feel like I was losing a piece of my identity. I wouldn’t feel like I’m losing an important part of what makes me who I am, what makes me a woman. I realize this is irrational. I do. But it’s my womb. It feels like a violation. I keep thinking, “Our Alex was formed in there!” No matter how I try and look on the bright side of all of this, it just feels like such a loss.
I’m worried that I won’t ever feel like myself again. I worry that I’ll look at myself differently. I worry other people will see me differently. Again, I know it’s irrational, but it’s feels very real all the same.
So why am I sharing this very personal information on what is essentially a craft/DIY blog? Because I don’t believe that I’m the only woman who feels this way when facing a hysterectomy. I think that’s why a lot people feel uncomfortable discussing it. My hope is this: If even just one woman going through these emotions searches “hysterectomy” online and stumbles on this page, I hope she’ll know she’s not the only one.
Forty years ago, no one uttered the words “breast cancer” in public. It was referred to as “cancer of the chest cavity” because saying “breast” made people feel uncomfortable; it just wasn’t done. Women had to deal with embarrassment and shame in addition to the fear and anxiety of cancer. That is truly tragic and unfair. We now talk openly about breast cancer in our country, and rightly so. We got to this point of openness because a few women were brave enough to share their experiences. They knew it might make people uncomfortable, but it was worth the risk so that other women didn’t have to suffer in silence. It was worth it so women going through a scary and emotional time wouldn’t feel alone.
So why don’t we talk about hysterectomies openly and matter-of-factly? Why do most of us still feel uncomfortable, embarrassed, or ashamed?
Did you know that 600,000 hysterectomies are performed every year, making it the most common surgery performed on women in the United States? I didn’t, either. Clearly a lot of women are going through this major disruptive and emotional event, and they aren’t talking about it. I can only assume that a large percentage of those women aren’t talking about it because they feel a little bit embarrassed and a little bit ashamed. And that just should not be.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. I am equal parts peacefully resigned to needing this done and mildly terrified, with a hearty dose of anger. I plan to post a Part Two explaining why I need to have this done. I really want my story to serve as a cautionary tale. I want other women to know what I’ve gone through in hopes that they’ll be able to avoid this. When you read Part Two, you will hopefully understand why I am feeling angry (how’s that for a teaser?!)
Stay tuned…
*I don’t actually think this is Too Much Information (TMI). Hopefully you don’t, either!
