#tw: hysterectomy

[unhingedtiktoks]

Description: Tiktok from user heckyesconcrete stitching user lruperez7. The first video shows a girl looking confused with a flashing color filter and the caption "What do men have in their body in place of a uterus? Are their other organs just bigger/shifted differently? Or is there like... free space?" A different girl says "I'm really into anatomy so I have a real answer for this! Here you can see the male anatomy and it has all the same things that the female anatomy does, lungs pancreas gallbladder all that good stuff, but right here you can see there's a little spot where the uterus would be and in the male anatomy, that's where the fucking audacity is-"

[sharknado-three]

Homophobes: I don't hate people who struggle with homosexual tendencies, I just think sodomy is a sin and responsible for spreading disease. I will do anything in my power to stop people from having gay sex, including campaigning to make it illegal. I believe being visibly homosexual in the presence of kids is making kids gay and shouldn't be allowed.

LGBT+ community: That's homophobic.

TERFs: I don't hate dysphoric females, I just think transitioning is causing irreversible damage and reinforcing sexist stereotypes. I will do anything in my power to stop "confused lesbians" from destroying their bodies, including campaigning to make transition illegal. I believe being visibly trans in the presence of kids is making kids gender-confused and shouldn't be allowed.

Some of you: Wow, TERFs sure do love AFAB trans people! They literally said so and we know bigots would never lie about that!

[yearning-gay]

girl who cums in me without meaning to and is so sorry about it and stumbles over her words trying to offer to get me plan b. wrapping my legs around her and kissing her forehead and telling her to cum inside mommy one more time like a good girl

[sunspill]

Hi I'd like to take back every nice thing I said about my surgeon.

This is a venty and /lengthy/ post about my experience with an accelerated emergency hysterectomy (<2wks from diagnosis to surgery). I'm adding a cut in case medical stuff is triggering for anyone or if you're like "I've heard enough outta you about doctors" (understandable).

I'm struggling to sleep rn in a hospital room so I'm venting to distract while I wait for my nurse to check in with me about more morphine.

So my gyn and my surgeon are the same person, an OBGYN in San Francisco. He was the only would who could see me after multiple ER and 2 urgent care visits for severe pain in my abdomen. Eventually the ER orders an ultrasound. a surprise vaginal ultrasound that I was not informed would involve insertion of the wand into my vagina until the tech told me to take off my underwear. They had told me it would be a stomach ultrasound to look for masses. I'm still... unhappy about this. It hurt and the tech was like "all women get these its fine". Anyway, I had one moderately large fibroid and possibly scar tissue and smaller masses.

Sidenote: I'm not sure if i have ever felt being viewed as less than human more in the ER. Downplaying my symptoms, telling me the ER doesn't dispense pain medication (which they later did multiple times), that fibroids don't cause any pain, accusations of drug-seeking, and multiple insinuations that I was pregnant or otherwise lying. One such accusation was a question posed to my partner about if we ever had threesomes with men or if maybe I cheated on them and contracted pregnancy or STD. Oh and when I got diagnosed they didn't say "it's fibroids" they said "there's at least one tumor in your uterus" like ! Why would they say it like that?? Every nurse was pissed to be there and I strongly believed one of them hard painful pricked me in my wrist instead of my elbow because they were annoying I was sobbing in the room outside the nurses lounge. When my partner confronted them about that choice they were like "well we can remove it but you won't get fluids or meds then". It hurt for 2 days afterwards. I had been to urgent care and the er previous to this and had no issues with the inner elbow.

I called gynos all over the place but no one else except this doctor, lets say... Dr Yan, could see me within 3 weeks. My PCP refused to provide pain management and I had been out of work for a week and half, returning to the ER multiple times because I was screaming in pain for hours. The ER would prescribe a small amount of prescription pain killers, I would try to make them stretch, and then I would have to return to the ER. I was bedridden from pain. Planned Parenthood couldn't help with treatment but told me based on the ER imaging I might have adenomyosis, for which the only "cure" would be to remove my uterus, removing just fibroid is much more difficult with adenomyosis.

So I was desperate and Dr Yan was willing to do a hysterectomy as well as willing to push my insurance company to get it done fast as I was pulling no income - I ran out of PTO after a week of calling out. I felt I needed it fast and it started to hurt more whenever I ate or drank. He somehow got it moved to yesterday.

But he was awful. He wouldn't give specific answers to my questions, he barely walked me through what the procedure entailed after my partner pressed harder, and kept saying it is a very common procedure that is easy and not painful.

He lied to me, saying I'd be home the same day and a nerve blocker administered during surgery would keep me numb for two days. The recovery nurse told me that's not true. He insisted that pain would be minimal and his patients were fine with otc pain management. He said it needed to be abdominal, which I have since learned is not the case and is the most painful and longest recovery time for hysterectomy

The only thing he reiterated and talked about was how I would be unable to get pregnant, which was the only thing I *already* knew. 

He did one physical exam during initial appt which was pushing on my abdomen, ordered no additional imaging or appts, and literally disappeared into another room while my back was turned signing forms. I had to sit in the waiting room for another 20 minutes to get him to sign insurance and leave of work papers.

He was 20 min late to my pre-op appt and his office had no idea why. he performed a pelvis exam on me, externally and then inserted his fingers into my vagina for an internal exam without telling me. I had never had a pelvic exam before. It hurt enough bc he did not use lubrication. My partner confronted him angrily and he said he knows what he's doing and the exam was over anyway. He told me again the surgery would be simple.

I woke up screaming in observation, where i was given Tylenol. The surgical nurse lied to me and said they had already called my partner. After an hour of pain they moved me to a recovery room, where I had access to my phone and called my partner, who had not been contacted and rushed over. I was alone and crying out in pain.

The nurse told me that they could only give me Tylenol because Dr Yan had left the hospital without putting in orders for me aka authorizing use of moderate to severe controlled painkillers. They said as soon as they could get him on the phone they could give me something for the pain because I had been given 4 grams of Tylenol and couldn't have more. Dr Yan never answered the phone.

I am not joking when I say this next part, because I was able to track the time through my chart just now to get exact numbers and times. I came out of surgery no later than 800am. In a recovery room by 9. I screamed, absolutely not an exaggeration, I was crying out and sobbing and could not think, I was sweating and my entire body was shaking. I was dry heaving and spitting up bile, which made the pain worse. I don't remember anything except the pain, although apparently i did say some funny things to my partner coming down from the general anesthesia (thought we were in grocery outlet).

At 2:14 the hospitalist gave up calling and admitted me, transferring care away from Dr Yan. At 4:45pm they administered a very lose dose of morphine, and I finally stopped screaming. It was still very painful, and my partner timed me - I would sleep for 1-7 minutes, then wake up crying out in pain for 3-10min, repeat. The nurse told me I would receive stronger pain management when I had a room.

At 430pm they transfered me to my room, which involved the transport guy hitting my bed against the counter. The transfer from bed to bed was so jolting I started screaming again, which lasted until 445pm, when they administered triple the dose of morphine given earlier.

This has been the most painful experience of my life. The Dr said no more morphine and would administer those opiate pills cut w ibuprofen or whatever. They would give me just enough to cut my pain back from 10 to 6/7, then make me wait until 10, then make me wait crying out in pain while they got the dr to put in an order for more. It was like reps of a gym set except the absolute worst pain based version.

Around 6pm, my partner advocated aggressively as my pain was only receding to a 8 or 9 and I could no longer nap or drink water due to the pain. My muscles were so clenched I tore my paper gown. The nurse (who had seen all of this go down and was b attentive) recommended to the dr that I receive straight oxycodeine via IV. My doctor, who saw me once when i was transfered which consisted of introducing himself, said I didn't need such a strong medicine and I should take tramadol instead.

The tramadol had almost no effect, and I was then told I couldn't have the oxy because I had gotten the tramadol instead. By 630 I was at a 10 and screaming again. The dr ordered a lidocaine patch (no effect).

At 655 a new dr replaced the previous and immediately ordered dilaudid. My pain finally dropped to a 5.

At 830pm guess who fuckin shows up in my room. Dr Yan, who's like "you don't seem in pain" SIR I HAD SO MANY DRUGS INSIDE ME AND I WSS STILL AT A 5. And I needed two people to get me to the bathroom (5 ft away). He shows me a picture of the biggest mass, says I'm fine, offers no explanation for why he fucked me over so badly, and leaves. I should have demanded information but my throat hurt from crying and screaming and I had only slept 2 hrs in the previous 2 days.

The recovery nurse apologized profusely to me and said she believed he had been grossly negligent. The anaesthesiologist came and told me my body eats painkillers and anesthesia with a strong natural tolerance, and that some of the refusal to give more or stronger dosages was probably because doctors basically read charts, and would see that I had been administered a lot already. They would then decide that was enough based on what they believed to be averagely appropriate. Even tho I have it documented from his hospice ICU care notes that my dad had a similar tolerance. The recovery nurse agreed as she had been observing me, administering the meds, and see my-clearly-caused -by -pain symptoms continue.

The night nurses and doctors have been better. I got some more morphine just now, and a sleep aid that didn't work but I appreciate they tried to address that issue.

Anyway jeez if you read everything you deserve a medal. My memory has been very poor due to drugs and pain so I've been trying to work out a timeline of what happened. I know it's kind of a baby thing because no one attacked me and I don't seem to have surgical complications and after all this the hospital is sending me home with opiates, but I feel kinda shell shocked. It felt crazy to be lying in the hospital screaming in pain for hours and hours just for someone to come in every hour and say their hands were tied even tho the hospital is the only place for strong pain relief that isnt like, street fet. I removed an organ, I knew it would hurt, but I've never in my life experienced anything like that. It was worse than all other pain I've had combined. I thought i was going to die.

Anyway the nurse is giving me Ativan! I hope to rest now. Cross your fingers for me and stay away from DR YUAN DA FAN OBGYN SUTTER HEALTH SAN FRANCISCO.

[utterdrip]

everytime i have my period now i think about when @tavs-brainworm said that all this “thinking pussy blood is going to waste” and it makes the days a little more bearable

[turnipstewdios]

Ok, had my hysterectomy two days ago. Everything went well, no complications. And I have actually stopped taking the pain meds, because this is legitimately less painful that any period cramp I've ever had. I didn't think my cramps were that bad? Hearing the way some folks talk about them, it didn't seem like what I was dealing with was all that extreme. But if three surgical incisions and two missing organs hurts less than the cramps did I was probably just not processing the pain well at the time. I do still have one ovary left, so it's possible I could get cramping from that, but they took the right side out, so if I get any pain over there it's probably the appendix instead. Ether way. I have been successfully removed from the gene pool.

[pelipper]

YEETERUS COMPLETERUS! ❤️‍🩹

[ruurat]

shuichi is slightly unwell.

[futurewife]

I cry on my period just because I hate the thought of having a uterus and shittt 🤮🤢🤢 eurghh. I know I'm not normal and a lot of people would think that's crazy. It just makes me feel so frustrated and distressed for some reason. this and the pmdd has me thinking what the heck kind of life is left for me if I get like 1 week to be me every month. Why was I given this touch of insanity!!!!! not to mention the adult hormonal acne. I feel put together so poorly.

[i-may-be-an-emu]

cramps. blood. when will this week of suffering end. I hate having a uterus.

[jennifersbod]

going back on birth control for my pcos symptoms even though i don’t have a uterus 💀

[nogling]

Two days ago, I had a full laparoscopic hysterectomy, oophorectomy, and salpingectomy.

I have been trying to get this surgery for more than a decade.  I have had hormonal migraines for 3 decades, severe cystic acne for 3 decades, and PCOS with insulin resistance.  I have spent the last several years regularly in agony once a month - between the 4-5 days I lost to migraines, the debilitating sciatic nerve pain, and the bleeding that led to anemia, I routinely lost days of my life every month, but couldn’t get a doctor to sign off on getting a hysterectomy.  In the past year, I’ve struggled with rising blood pressure, fluid retention, and increasing migraine severity and frequency, along with joint pain and skin rashes.

I am literally 48 hours out from major abdominal surgery, and I feel so much better it’s ridiculous.

My head doesn’t hurt.  My abdominal muscles are a little sore, and my incision sites are tender, but I’ve taken some ibuprofen and I’m not in pain.  The acne I had prior to surgery is no longer inflamed, and is well on its way to clearing entirely.  The dry, scaly patches of skin on my face, arms, and chest are smooth and soft.  My blood pressure has been perfectly normal, without medication, for 48 hours.  My ankles and feet have no edema.  I slept on my right side last night and woke up without a numb arm - a thing I haven’t been able to do in years.  My shoulders don’t hurt.  My wrists don’t hurt.  My hips and knees haven’t popped since my surgery, and are pain free.  My resting pulse is back in a normal range.  This morning I got up and went with my partner to renew their driver’s license, and we grabbed breakfast, washed the car, and ran a couple of errands - and I’m not out of spoons.  I’m going to go do dishes, and sweep the floors, and prep dinner, because I have more spoons left to spend.  The brain fog that I thought was normal is gone - this is the clearest my head has been in a long, long time.

I am so so so glad I was able to get this surgery.  My only regret is that I couldn’t get it done sooner, because I could have felt this way ten years ago. 

[system-of-a-feather]

Dude genuinely I dont care if the pain is horrible or whatever. The worst thing of the hysterectomy is not working out for three weeks straight

Like I'm not sure how well we've articulated how much of a corner stone coping mechanism specifically for me going to the gym is in toning down the irritability, anger issues, impulsivity, and overall big ASPD flares that can get pretty dangerous unchecked for us.

Like I'll probably substitute it with heavy guitar since we will be forced off work and thats my other top coping, but god damn man

I'll do it and all cause I think I could survive 3 weeks of no gym compared to having a fucking uterus that even if silenced still wants to murder us

But god damn, Ill need my Princess (guitar) this month

Or our brain will go "Oh we are sick" and fire me as host / cohost for a while cause it tends to do that since I have dangerously muted responses to physical strain and am prone to going to far but DAMN

Anyways hysterectomy tomorrow morning

-XIV

[the-pure-warriors-son-of-battle]

For pride this year I am getting a ✨hysterectomy✨😚

[nocturnal-milk-dud]

I'd be lying if I said fear didn't play a role in me getting an iud. And that kinda makes me sad. I thought I would leave the doctor's office feeling protected, like I'd just put on armor, but I left feeling grief that I had to put on armor at all. Especially that kind. It was invasive and shitty, and I say that as a person who will still promote the benefits of it.

I wish I could just monitor my cycle and my fertile periods instead of having a foreign object inserted in my body, or taking a pill every day. When I heard about people practicing that type of natural birth control, I balked. I thought it was absurd. Which is really fucked up when you think about it. I thought a natural process was more ridiculous than a foreign object being shoved into my body. Let's let that sink in for a moment.

The reality is, is that it's not the process itself that I find alarming. This country, this world, its people, have made me scared to become pregnant. So scared that I eschew and sneer at natural processes and turn to invasive ones, even going so far as to consider surgical removal of my ovaries or uterus if I feel the situation warrants it. I'm just trying to imagine a world where I'm not afraid of getting pregnant, but just living. I'm tired.

-I realize there's a lot this post doesn't cover. There are multitudes of reasons why folks need birth control, and why certain types are more suitable than others. I'm speaking as a cis-het woman who has never really needed birth control for any reason besides birth control. Since I got my iud, these have been the thoughts going through my head. Please feel free to add on whatever thoughts or experiences you may have, and know that I did not write this with the intention of it being universal. Thank you for reading.

[texas-writes]

Stars and Oblivion

After years of searching, you finally find her

Cw: teen pregnancy mentioned, postpartum anxiety, child abandonment

The sun beat down through the mouth of the cave, the sweat from your brow running down and burning into your eyes as you focused intently on the carburetor in your greasy hands. There was no fucking way this would be a surface repair. You let out a growl and grab one of your smaller wrenches to begin disassembling the part. You can feel boring holes into your back but you just roll your shoulders in an attempt to shrug off the sensation. The feeling goes and is soon replaced with a presence. You turn, prepared to shout off whichever Warpup had the audacity to bother you, but instead of stark white flesh you’re greeted with a small frame clothed entirely in light leather work gear. It was that boy again. He was still a child, probably no older than twelve, and certainly no Warboy. He never spoke, making you question if his tongue had been cut out.

“What is it?”

He brings his fingers level with his eyes and then turns them towards the carburetor.

“Do you want me to teach you how to do this?”

He nods and leans on the workbench, eyes locked on your hands.

“Okay. I have to rebuild it, probably replace some of the interior parts and clean it. Just try to look busy.”

He nods again, watching as you take the cover off and begin detaching all the inner workings. You send him for small parts of scrap from time to time and make sure he has his goggles on whenever you have to weld or cut the new pieces to fit into the mechanism. Finally you’re finished rebuilding the part and give it to him, telling him to go put it back in the truck it was from. Another nod, and then he’s gone.

You allowed the boy much more grace than any of the other mechanics. He was just a child after all, a foundling most likely, and starkly human compared to the Warboys, a whole life. He’d often come sit with you while you ate, but you never saw his face, he’d just slip his spoon under his dust mask instead of removing it. There were several occasions on colder nights that he would climb into your bunk shivering, and you’d just wrap your arms around him without question, pressing your lips to his forehead and smoothing down his cap.

In moments when your mind was loose, when you were unfocused at work, or too tired to properly hold your eyes open you saw in him glimpses of the child you had left behind. Close in age, and hopefully status of life, you saw her, darting around, almost playful in moments of ease, but reserved nonetheless. You had no real idea what your daughter looked like, you had gone when she was just a baby, leaving her with your sister and running into the wastes, too young then to be a mother or a wanderer, but your fear had driven you further than any car ever could.

You remembered her, blue and screaming when she came into this world, covered in blood and viscera, her tiny hands clenched into tight fists as she was handed to you. You’d barely had enough time to name her before you’d passed out. You were fourteen then, too curious for your own good, drawn in by the charms of a farmer’s son, and you’d ended up ripped in half for your stupidity. The bleeding wouldn’t stop, so the doctor had taken your womb to give you a chance at living, and lived you had.

It was three days before you had woken up, connected to your sister by a tangle of tubing while another woman held out the child for you to hold. You took her and brushed the wisp of hair from her face, smiling when she opened her eyes, looking up at you. You’d stuck around for a couple of months, but by the time you left you felt like you needed to claw your way out of your skin, like even if you never stopped running you’d still have gone nowhere, so you left your daughter with your sister and ran, taking a bike and going as far and as fast as you could.

Years later you had gone back, twenty four then, finally ready to settle back down, your wild urges sated, your body relaxed and your mind solid once again, only to find nothing. The women had told you that your daughter had been taken, and your sister had followed after. You’d lit out in the direction they pointed and rode until you came across the remnants of a camp, a pile of warm ashes and an all too familiar locket buried beneath the cinders. The metal had burned a crescent moon into your palm as you’d gripped it and screamed, but you didn’t care. You just knelt there in the sand sobbing until you had no tears left to cry, pathetically making your way back to your bike and continuing in the direction you’d been heading, despite the absence of tracks, no trace of your sister’s murderers or your little girl. Just riding into oblivion with no real care if you lived or not.

So you cared for the boy, as much as he’d let you, as if he were your own, the guilt deep in your belly driving your actions just as much as your compassion. He grew up under your mechanical guidance, loosening up around the workshop, forgoing his mask, and before long it became glaringly obvious that you had mistaken him. Long hair and bright eyes began to reveal “his” true nature, but it didn’t phase you. There were many reasons for a girl to hide in this world, especially around the company you worked with. She grew brawny as she aged and you gifted her with a knife to keep sheathed in her boot. She’d kept it close, pulling it on more than one occasion to escape the grabbing hands of the Warboys you worked with.

You knew nothing of her but what you’d seen, but you could still say you loved her. All these years, watching over her, protecting her, teaching her. There were times, even now, that she, maybe seventeen now, would crawl shivering into your bed and you’d hold her and kiss her forehead as you always did. She would never object to your affections, just worming her way closer and sighing as her eyes fell shut.

Years later she’d disappeared, and you’d worried for her, fearing the worst, but after a month she returned, staggering, weak, a crudely stitched stump where her left arm once was. You’d tended to her without a word, cleaning her wound and dressing it without question as she sat on your bunk that night. She’d been through hell and you knew she wasn’t one to talk. The girl, no woman, before you was alive and that was all that mattered right now. Before you could think your hand was at the back of her head and your forehead was pressed to hers, with your eyes squeezed shut, fighting the tears of worry that threatened to fall. She’d been strong, wherever she’d been, and it was your turn now, for her sake. She mirrors your actions, pressing her head to yours so hard it almost hurt.

“Stars bless you,” she whispers, her voice shaking with the same tenacity you were exerting.

You pull away from her sharply, shocked not only by her voice but the words it carried. Her eyes are wide and wet, her hand trembles against the back of your head and you know now what your heart had secretly known for years. You look at her in the torch-light of the bunk room and see your own eyes staring back at you, your own hair falls over her shoulders and down her back.

“Furiosa,” you breathe, pressing your forehead back to hers, finally allowing the sob to wrack your body, pulling her tightly into a hug and she reciprocates it. She’d learned to love and trust you, completely unaware of the fact that it was your immaturity that had gotten her here. It was all your fault and she was none the wiser. It was too late now, to be her mother. She was twenty three years old and had mourned for the mother she knew for all those years now. It was not your place to try to claim that place, to fill that void.

“How do you know my name? You’re not from the green place, I’d have known you,” her voice is sharp and demanding despite the low volume.

“I am, I left when you were a baby, and only went back after you��d been taken.”

“Then who are you?”

You silently reach behind your neck and unclasp your necklace bearing two pendants, a sun and a crescent moon, and give them to her.

“She was my sister. I’ve spent years looking for you. I needed to see you again, even if it was just for a moment.”

Your answer was incomplete, but still truthful. It was all she needed to know. Too much would do more harm than good, and she was already fragile. Maybe when you finally got her back home safe you would come clean, but now, just having her here in your arms, knowing she was alive and as safe as someone could be in the wasteland was enough for you.