Monday, June 28, 2010

::as my mom would say, "you can't read ultrasounds!"::

From the ends of the earth I call to you, 
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
                   Psalm 61:2

In the name of holding it together, I'll start at the beginning.  I need to laugh to keep from crying, seeing as how I'm an emotional basket-case today.

My two year old has been sick all weekend.  He has had fever and what I think is a sore throat, screaming fits when he eats or drinks anything (throat? ears? two year molars?), and was up every hour on the hour last night.  After a really long day yesterday, I was exhausted.  But, motherhood doesn't really get eight hours off every night.  So I was up and down with my son all night, and yet he was surprisingly chipper at seven a.m. while I was still barely coherent after a very large cup of coffee. does he do it?! 

My ultrasound appointment was at 9:20 and since I live a good 35 minutes from my doctor's office, I planned on drinking my 32 oz. of water on the way there.  I went to the bathroom about 20 minutes before I left my house, per their instructions.  By the time I parked at the doctor's office 55 minutes later, I was barely able to stand up straight.  I have some endometriosis growing on my bladder, so I am going to just use that as an excuse for the agonizing pain I was in.  I don't know that that has any affect on whether I can "hold it" or not, but if I'm going to have the disease, I soooo going to use the endometriosis card if I have to.

My doctor's office is on the third floor of a medical building.  I hobbled through the parking lot and waited for the elevator, all the while thinking, "What if the elevator gets stuck?  I'm going to explode in like five minutes!!"  I wondered how inappropriate it would be for me to unbutton my pants...I was wearing a tunic-like shirt, so surely nobody would notice....   I refrained.

I signed in at the desk, and stood behind another patient so I could give them my co-pay.  The receptionist told me to take a seat and she'd call me up in a few minutes to get checked in.

Was she SERIOUS!?!?!?    A few minutes?  With a half a gallon of water in my system?

I sat down.  I waited a full three minutes before running to the restroom to just take the edge off.

I came back and tried to read the book I had brought with me.  I vacillated between Kate Jacob's Comfort Food and Kelly Ripa's annoying voice on the waiting room TV screen.
My feet were both tapping the floor.
I noticed I kept nervously wringing my hands.
A few more minutes went by.
I started sweating.
I jumped up from my seat and pretended to peruse the rack of pamphlets on menopause.  I took a random pamphlet and began fanning my face.
Then I started pacing in front of the front desk.  I glanced at their was five minutes past my appointment time (plus I had been about 15 minutes early).
I watched one of the receptionists dial and start speaking in hushed tones.  Then she called me to her desk to tell me the ultrasound tech had to work in another patient ahead of me.  It would be about 15-20 more minutes. 
I'm giving you permission to laugh when I tell you I teared up!!

"I'm not going to make it!" I screeched.  She gave me permission to go "empty" a little, but not much.  I did, almost knocking down all the pregnant women streaming in for their appointments.  Oh, the irony.
I was in so much pain I couldn't stand up straight.  (Why do people not complain about ultrasound appointments more?? Is it because there's usually a baby on the screen to take your mind off the insane amount of pressure you're feeling down there???)
I texted my mom: "I'm at my u/s appt and they worked someone in ahead of me.  I'm about to DIE!!!  Distract me!"  

I reseated myself and was able to read for a few more minutes. Finally, the u/s tech called me back, apologizing all the way.  It was over 30 minutes past my appointment time.  But, I can't ever yell at anyone or be's just not me.  So, I laughed nervously and said, "It's okay," which of course, it wasn't.  But she was really nice.

So, I hopped on the table for the tummy portion of the u/s.  As soon as she got my insides on the screen she said, "Wow, girl!  You have to be about ready to smack me right now!!"  I said something to the effect of, "Well, my main goal right now is to not pee on your table."  To her credit she finished up that portion of the u/s quickly.  Then, I was as good as new.

And that's the end of the humorous portion of this post.

I'm lying on the table watching the screen mounted on the wall while she takes pictures and measures what I'm hoping against hope are just normal organs and not growths, masses, adhesions, or fibroids.  But, I catch a glimpse of something she's measuring in my uterus.  Adhesion?  Fibroid?  And then she moves on to my ovary, which I can tell is an ovary because of the words "LONG  LOV" typed left ovary, right? I can also see what I imagine to be the fallopian tube.  And then there is lots of measuring and pictures and weird angles on the screen and in my mind I am back in the same spot I was in two years ago when a huge mass was discovered on my now non-existent right ovary.  My mind is racing with possibilities.  Is it another endometrioma? Wouldn't I have symptoms if it were another endometrioma? Is my ovary doomed? If so, I'm officially done.  It will be the end of the road for us.
So, on and on I go, self-diagnosing.  After the tech finishes and I get changed, she asks if I have a follow-up appointment scheduled or was this all I had planned today.  I tell her it was just the u/s, which she says is unusual since usually there is a follow-up.  My doctor is out of the office until Wednesday, so she tells me to call to talk to my doctor Wednesday morning.  I know the tech can't tell me anything, but I am trying really hard to read into what she is saying.  Is that pity on her face?  Does she know if it's pointless to do anything further?

I leave with plans to call my doctor Wednesday morning.  That's it.

I called my husband from the elevator and promptly burst into tears.  I just couldn't shake the fear of a bad diagnosis.  He was comforting and ever the logical one, told me not to get upset yet....we won't know anything until Wednesday.  He is right, of course.  I can hear my son wailing in the background.  I feel like joining him.  Once I was in my car, I called my mom and then of course burst into tears again at the sound of her voice.  "You've gone in your mind to what the worst could be.  So, just go there and think about what the worst could be and realize that even the worst is still God's good plan for you. And then remember--you can't read ultrasounds!"  I laughed even while I was sobbing into the phone.  I probably sounded hysterical.

I needed to run a few errands while in Cape, so I found myself wandering through Hobby Lobby looking for some circular knitting needles, while hearing a familiar hymn piped in through the sound system.  I fought tears while poking through skeins of yarn and the aisle of needles.  I then stopped at Starbucks because, I really need a reason to stop at Starbucks? No.  I realized I hadn't eaten all day, but the thought of food was a little nauseating, so I drowned my sorrows in a grande non-fat Caramel Macchiato. 

I texted two close friends and asked them to pray for me because I simply felt paralyzed by fear.  I can't explain how fearful I felt. I did what my mom said...I went there in my mind.  What is the worst case scenario here?  Here's what feels like the worst case scenario at this point: my only ovary is ensconced in an endometrioma and it has to come out, which would leave me permanently barren.  Okay.  I cry.  I wonder how I will get past that, I wonder how I will ever recover....I let my mind consider it, but all the while knowing that Christ is my Rock.  HE is how I will get past it.  He is with me.  Scripture passages come to mind.

As I drove down the interstate, I listened to Kari Jobe belt out the words to "You are Still Holy" and my fear began to melt away. I wept and prayed and worshiped.
I am truly afraid of what I might hear Wednesday, and I feel the need to brace myself for the worst, but even heart feels deeply entrenched in the love of Christ.  My life cannot be so shaken as to shatter His grip on me.  His grip is firm, His truth real, His love deep.  And all that has been in my life up to now belongs to Him.  He is holy.

"You Are Still Holy"

Holy, You are still holy

Even when the darkness surrounds my life
Sovereign, You are still sovereign
Even when confusion has blinded my eyes
Lord I don't deserve Your kind affection
When my unbelief has kept me from Your touch
I want my life to be a pure reflection of Your love

And so I come into Your chambers
And I dance at Your feet Lord
You are my Savior and I'm at Your mercy
All that has been in my life up to now
Belongs to You, for You are still holy

Holy, You are still holy
Even when I don't understand Your ways
Sovereign, You are still sovereign
Even when my circumstances don't change
And Lord, I don't deserve Your tender patience
When my unbelief has kept from from your touch
I want my life to be a pure You
And so I come into Your chambers
And I dance at Your feet Lord
You are my Savior and I'm at Your mercy
All that has been in my life up to now
Belongs to You, for You are still holy

I'll update as soon as I know something on Wednesday.  Please pray that I would not be overcome by fear, but that the Lord would use all of this to make me more like Him.



Lindsay Newcomer said...

Hey Glenna,

Sorry your appointment was so rough and that you have to wait. I'll be praying for you not to be fearful and for GREAT results!

As an aside, I totally don't get the holding your pee thing- why they make you do it- not why it was miserable. ;) My IF doctors have told me that it's really hard for them to read the ultrasound when my bladder is full- one time they made me get redressed, pee, and then come back in for a re-do ultrasound. And it stinks b/c I have to wait to have my coffee until after my appointments, haha. Maybe it just varies with the doctor?

Lauren Athalia said...

I sing that same song whenever my life seems to be unraveling before my eyes. Ironically, every time I sing it I hear you faintly singing it with me. Because I remember the first time I ever heard it was when you sang it at church. I'm not really sure what that has to do with today but maybe just know that this time I'm singing it with you. He is a good and just God.

Rebekah said...

Laughing and crying. That song drops me to my knees. Keep pushing through.

tea said...

Saying a prayer for you. This is such a hard journey to be on, but your trust in the Lord is so right.

When I went in for my ultrasound it was the same way. They made me drink a ton and we took the bumpiest roads on earth to the appointment. (I think I cried a little.) Then once we got there I had to wait. I used the bathroom, like three times before they even got me in and then the tech said I still looked like I was going to bust...and I almost did.

I do pray the news you hear on Wednesday will be good news.

erin said...

Oh Glenna, tears came to my eyes when I read this post. I am so hoping and praying for good news but am so glad that you are turning to the Author of all Comfort no matter what. A verse I love: "When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul." Psalm 94:19

Sarah said...

oh glenna, that song helps me get through so many moments in my life when all seems hopeless. i am praying for you today as you deal with the craziness of the day and the apprehensions-- and i will be praying tomorrow as well. and Thank You for sharing your honest struggles in your faith through all of this-- reading your blog encourages me so much, showing me that faith is a daily battle and not something that always comes easily. you are such a blessing!

Zoe said...

I am praying for a wonderful report for you tomorrow! And the grace to praise God, no matter what. :)

andreajennine said...

Praying for you!

Allison said...

what time will you hear from her...??