1 Day and Counting: My Journey to Prevent Ovarian Cancer

Preparing for surgery these last few days has been like getting ready to go into labor. I've been nesting. My house is tidy and the fridge is full. I've also gotten a haircut, my nails done, and even indulged in a massage. The cleaning was going to continue this morning until I twisted my ankle and fell flat on my face walking my kids to the bus stop.

Now I lay here in my bedroom - my leg elevated and covered in ice. My left ankle is the size of a tennis ball and when I walk it hurts. A LOT. To make matters worse, I can't even hobble to the kitchen to dull the pain with a bowl of Frosted Flakes. I'm not allowed to eat today. Clear liquids only; I have surgery tomorrow.

I am going to make it through today. The Tylenol I just took will kick in soon. I can't have a broken ankle. Not now! I have an appointment with a surgeon tomorrow and the operation may just save my life.

Tomorrow morning I will wake-up, cuddle with my kids, and then take off with my husband, Mark, for the hospital. The surgery is scheduled for 9:30am and I've been asked to check-in at 7:30am. Mark will update my Blog tomorrow and he'll let you know how I'm doing. Then, as soon as I'm able, I'll start writing again and tell you how I'm feeling.

Tomorrow can't come soon enough. I'm ready for surgery. Even if I have to limp to get there.

Comments

[marysandra]

Dear Allison,
I posted a comment to your earlier column about my mother's valiant battle with ovarian cancer. My heart goes out to you. If you ever regret your choice,and I doubt you will, go talk to some survivors of oc,if you can find any. You are brave and smart,Godspeed.
All the best to you and your family.

[wrianne]

Good luck. I will be having mine in 2 weeks so I am curious as to how you will recover.

All the best- you are brave!

[NABNYC]

I've had this discussion with women friends. We probably all have. What if your mother, sister, aunts, grandmothers had breast or ovarian cancer, what if the doctors told you your chances were high. And I've always said I'd tell the doctor to yank it all out. But it was theoretical, like making a decision with your fingers crossed. Doesn't really count.

You are doing what most of us adult women now realize may become an unfortunate reality for many of us. That tired old saying that used to be used to justify keeping women down -- biology is destiny -- now takes on a sad new meaning in the world of new medical discoveries.

Sorry about your situation and best of luck to you and your family.

[Dap]

Dear Ms.Gilbert,

All the best, thanks for sharing your experience. We shall be looking forward to your quick recovery, blessing. Agape.