On Monday the 11th, I had surgery to remove my left Bartholin gland. It's been giving me trouble the last three years. Many trips to my doctor and one trip to the E.R. while I was pregnant with Jack. A cyst developed a while ago and it was time to have it exorcised. In the midst of the swelling and pain, I texted a few friends and asked for name suggestions for the nasty beast that was making my life quite miserable. I thought humor might make the problem seem smaller. My friend, Robin, never fails to make me laugh with a sense of humor that is so clever and always leaves me in stitches. No pun intended. So, henceforth, the fiery development growing inside me was aptly named Cysty Spacek. I won't gross you out with details. Just know, this b*tch has caused a lot of havoc and even led me to endure THE MOST PAINFUL PHYSICAL EXPERIENCE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE. Not exaggerating.
Um, I don't actually want to say this but I think it would be best to mention what a Bartholin gland is, to save your eyes if you decided to Google it. Women have these glands in their vagina. These glands produce lubrication during sex. There, I said it. We're all adults right, we can handle what I just explained?
Here I am, day six of recovering and still in a fair amount of pain and lots of discomfort. (Two sets of stitches, one way inside and one in a most unpleasant place.) My husband has been very helpful and very patient. (I can't sit normally or stand for too long.) I have received phone calls and texts asking how I am and wonderful get well wishes. That has meant so much to me! My neighbor, Brandi, took Rylee to the park and it helped me by having one less kid to take care of for an hour. I even received a basket of Ghirardelli goodies delivered to my door from Mindy! Then, last night, Julie brought me See's candy and Sour Cream & Onion Pringles. It sure does feel good to be cared about!
I realized something about myself today. I never want to be thought of as lazy. I love to lounge and chill in my jammies, just not for the amount of time I have been this week. I love lazy Saturdays but not when the weather is gorgeous and I could be walking at the arboretum or the zoo or anywhere! I don't like feeling lazy when I am really just trying to get well again. My body needs to heal but I feel guilty for laying down when I could be getting groceries or making dinner or creating some art! I think, as women, we have pressure put on us by society to always be on. We know we're strong, so we always have to prove it. We also put pressure on ourselves and forget to cut ourselves some slack. I have been trying to give myself a mental break all week and it hasn't been working. I realized today that part of my struggle has been feeling really alone during Cysty Spacek's reign of terror. I don't know anyone that has experienced this torture. I know there are other women out there that have dealt with this problem but I don't know any of them. So I started telling myself I was whining about my pain just because no one else could moan with me. Isn't that how it goes with any of the junk we deal with in our lives? We feel isolated and think we must be crazy for feeling that way, since we don't hear anyone else complaining? Of course I like to add guilt on top of my misery. Like, "C'mon Jessica, don't be such a baby! There are far worse things people deal with every single day. At least you can go to a doctor for help! What about the families with no health care? What about the people starving and their kids?!" Before I know it, I'm pushing myself to move when I shouldn't because I feel guilty about not helping anyone else. I'm not trying to paint myself as some sort of amazing person here for worrying about others. I'm hoping that what I am sharing resonates with you, so you don't feel alone.
Hi, my name is Jessica, and my toddler ate at least two boxes, possibly three, of fruit snacks this week, all while the TV was on and his iPad was on too. Yes, he had fruits and vegetables, in the form of squeezy food pouches he should have outgrown by now but since he's extremely picky about food, I have to get him nourishment somehow. He also enjoyed dry Honeycomb cereal for the first time because I didn't have the energy to say no. I don't even know what my nine year old daughter has been up to (besides playing Minecraft) because she is capable of making her own food. I have been relieved when she only wanted cereal for dinner.
I know I will recover, it might actually take weeks from what I've been reading, but I will recover. I am getting better about asking for help and letting people do nice things for me. I feel guilty about that too. I don't know if this whole mess is just so I can learn how to let go of control. I never thought I had a problem with always needing to be in control, until now. If that's the case, I will definitely work on it because I really don't like being in a position where I am worried my cause of death will be from sneezing. Good grief, this is not the time to have allergies!