That Time My Ovary Grew Something It Shouldn't, Twice

My right ovary decided to grow another cyst that this time wasn't rupturing. It was a nice, little six and a half inch watermelon that needed to go.
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I felt it jolt me awake and suddenly I knew I couldn't really move. My stomach was clenched tight from the stabbing sensation, my legs were curled, and I laid there in a fetal position in our bed waking my fiancé up with my groaning. "Do you need a Gas X again or suppository? I told you not to eat all that ice cream," she mumbled half-asleep like she's had to every other night for years because I'm a stubborn fat ass. Though it was very possible Chocolate Malted Crunch was to blame, something told me it was something else. And I was right.

Later at the hospital that day, we learned I had ruptured an ovarian cyst on my right ovary. They offered me Morphine for the pain when sending me home, but I refused. Cannabis, both in oil form and through vaporization, alleviated the pain just fine. Thankfully I live in California where getting it is legal. Yeah, I know this information doesn't really flow with the story but I thought you'd benefit from knowing this.

As expected, a week of slight soreness and lethargy followed but unexpectedly continued for the rest of October and through November of 2014. Over the course of that month and a half, it began to feel like something was growing in me. Bending over felt awkward, as if my basic movements were disrupting something. For a second I thought Melody had turkey bastered me and gotten me pregnant in my sleep. But this time I was wrong.

My right ovary decided to grow another cyst that this time wasn't rupturing. It was a nice, little six and a half inch watermelon that needed to go. That upcoming January, one of the best surgeons on the planet, Dr. Ilana Cass at Samuel Oschin Cancer Center at Cedars-Sinai Medical Hospital in LA, managed to do the surgery laparoscopic; she peeled the cyst off of my right ovary, cut my ovary open to clean it all out, sowed it back together, and plopped it back in me. A few weeks later, I was all healed up with benign results.

I decided to take birth control for the first time in my life to try and prevent more cysts from developing in the future. Instead, all it did was make me cry at every commercial and turned me into a whale. Literally. I gained forty pounds in four weeks. And my boobs had gotten as big as Jamaica. By the end of the month, the birth control was in the trash.

By July, some of my weight came off and I started to walk instead of waddle. I was starting to get my groove back and became more active. By the beginning of September, I was hot. And I had lost just enough weight to not only button up my favorite jeans, but also notice that something else was growing in me again.

Yet again my lovely right ovary grew another friend, this time at five and a half inches. So now the ovary had to go, too.

A few weeks ago, Dr. Cass performed laparoscopic surgery again and I said good-bye to my right ovary, my right fallopian tube, and what actually was a borderline tumor. The same ovary that had grown a completely benign cyst not even a year ago had grown a borderline tumor this time around.

I got so incredibly lucky to have been in the hands of such a great surgeon and doctors that have ensured my health. Thanks to Dr. Melissa Wong, Dr. Samuel J. Porter, Dr. Manxu Zhao (she's the best anesthesiologist. I literally woke up smiling from surgery this time around unlike the last time when I threw up for hours and peed all over the bed and the nurses), and obviously Dr. Cass, I am now just about fully recovered with one healthy ovary left. And yes, I've used cannabis flower (from Buds and Roses) and oil (by TreatWell Health) throughout my recovery instead of Norco and for the first time in over a year, I'm finally starting to feel healthy.

It was pretty scary there for a while for me. And it probably still is in ways I haven't yet been able to realize or comb through with my therapist. This ride shook my world a little bit, and that's nothing to say compared to what my parents and Melody had to go through. I wouldn't wish the worrying on anyone. However bad it was being me, the caretakers had it worse - both from worrying and having to put up with me. I'm far from a picnic, so thank you all very much. Really, to all of you who were involved in my life over this time, I truly thank you. And I'm sorry for likely being a huge bitch. ☺

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