It is cancer
Abstract: After presenting menorrhagia with every menstrual cycle between December 2020-April 2021, I saw a doctor and was diagnosed with a stage I, FIGO grade 2 tumor in my uterus (endometrial cancer). A hysterectomy was performed on May 20, 2021 where the tumor was removed along with everything else (salpingo-oopherectomy). Post op treatment recommended was brachytherapy radiation to destroy any stray cancer cells.
My sickness was partially to blame on bad eating habits and not exercising. It took a major health crisis to change that.
Dec, 2020: While working remotely from home, I noticed a gush of menses during class. I ended up ending class early and ended up sitting in the tub to catch the large blood-slugs oozing out. I'd had "freak bleeds" like this before (2006 and 2013) and thought nothing of it.
It did occur again in Jan 2021 and Feb. The worst was in Feb since we had to report back to campus to work and I was locked in my empty classroom near the end of the day bleeding out in my metal waste basket. After passing more clots and wiping up the spilled blood from the tile floor, I ran away thirty minutes before official dismissal time to go home. I had to call my therapist who spoke to me over the phone while I sat on a bedside commode in the garage, bleeding into it.
I made an appointment with a gynecologist who performed a biopsy and pelvic ultrasound. In the meantime, I was put on birth control to regulate my periods. Things went fairly well until April 9 when I began to bleed heavily every five hours. I was becoming anemic at work (I felt sleepy and tired) and canceled plans to see a movie with a friend since I felt sick and was afraid of bleeding out all over the movie chairs. I called the gyno who told me to stop taking the BC and go to CVS for iron pills.
On April 21, 2020, the diagnosis came in: endometrial cancer. The gyno ordered a battery of tests and bloodwork so fatty liver, the onset of type 2 diabetes joined in my health shit show. Since my mother had breast cancer and died of ovarian cancer that crept to her lungs, a genetic test was administered and I have a mutation in my BRCA-2 gene.
Quick segway: The root of all of this was poor eating/ drinking habits, and I was weighing in at 246 at the time of my diagnosis. The bulk of the weight gain was when Mom was on hospice dying from ovarian cancer. She had a sweet tooth so every evening was spent going out for Sonic drinks or ice cream treats from Dairy Queen, Whataburger, Wienerschnitzel, etc. Naturally, if I was going to get Mom something, I wanted something as well. And after she died, I couldn't handle my stress and I had a bad habit of eating out 6 nights a week. I'd visit the Coke machines at school during lunch and after school for a sugar and dopamine boost I needed to do my work. There are now newly built fast food and smoothie outlets across from my work so getting cold fountain sodas and smoothies was easier than before.
End segway
On the evening of May 19, 2020, my gynecologist's office called me while I was shopping for comics (I was anticipating an overnight stay in the hospital and wanted some cheap reading material) and told me about the BRCA mutation. My genes lack proteins for fighting these cancers and I will have a greatly elevated risk of developing breast, ovarian, melanoma, and pancreatic cancers. The endometrial cancer was not a result of the BRCA mutation.
I had a full hysterectomy on May 20, 2021. The surgeon was keen on letting me keep my ovaries to avoid early menopause, but after I tested positive from the BRCA 2 mutation, he removed them to cut the risk of ovarian cancer. And before the genetic testing, I had anticipated this. Things were just going so badly that I knew I'd be in a world of shit.
I began showing the classic menopause symptoms about 2 days after the surgery: hot flashes. I probably shouldn't bitch since I get 20 a day and they last 2 minutes each. At least I'm not soaking through my clothes or bedsheets at night or during the day. I'm on evening primrose oil and Estroven to help curb the symptoms. The boxes say that the meds kick in in about 30-90 days so I'm still sweating it over here. I do notice that my hot flashes are triggered by stress: If I get anxious or overthink then I get a flash. Even positive stress triggers them (seeing visitors after my surgery).
I went to Texas Oncology and the oncologist wants to do 5 sessions of radiation: one treatment a day for five days. I've yet to start.
Also, because of the BRCA, I've had 3 doctors recommend a prophylactic double mastectomy to prevent the breast cancer that has a 60-80% chance of developing in me. I have a lot of mixed emotions about that. My thoughts fluctuate between "this is mutilation," "this is a lot of money," "who will take care of me post-op?" and then sometimes I think, "I do want this." "I won't be sexualized as much," "I might not get cancer again." I have yet to conference with a breast surgeon.
It's been hell. This is a lot to take in between the cancer, diabetes, and BRCA mutation. Sometimes I think God must hate me. But oddly, the cancer did save my life. If I hadn't seen the doctor, she'd have never ordered the genetic testing and I'd have never found out about the BRCA mutation. I have since improved my diet and haven't had a regular soda since May. I've also gone from 246 pounds to 221 pounds fully clothed. This disease was the exigence I needed to get my shit together.
My sickness was partially to blame on bad eating habits and not exercising. It took a major health crisis to change that.
Dec, 2020: While working remotely from home, I noticed a gush of menses during class. I ended up ending class early and ended up sitting in the tub to catch the large blood-slugs oozing out. I'd had "freak bleeds" like this before (2006 and 2013) and thought nothing of it.
It did occur again in Jan 2021 and Feb. The worst was in Feb since we had to report back to campus to work and I was locked in my empty classroom near the end of the day bleeding out in my metal waste basket. After passing more clots and wiping up the spilled blood from the tile floor, I ran away thirty minutes before official dismissal time to go home. I had to call my therapist who spoke to me over the phone while I sat on a bedside commode in the garage, bleeding into it.
I made an appointment with a gynecologist who performed a biopsy and pelvic ultrasound. In the meantime, I was put on birth control to regulate my periods. Things went fairly well until April 9 when I began to bleed heavily every five hours. I was becoming anemic at work (I felt sleepy and tired) and canceled plans to see a movie with a friend since I felt sick and was afraid of bleeding out all over the movie chairs. I called the gyno who told me to stop taking the BC and go to CVS for iron pills.
On April 21, 2020, the diagnosis came in: endometrial cancer. The gyno ordered a battery of tests and bloodwork so fatty liver, the onset of type 2 diabetes joined in my health shit show. Since my mother had breast cancer and died of ovarian cancer that crept to her lungs, a genetic test was administered and I have a mutation in my BRCA-2 gene.
Quick segway: The root of all of this was poor eating/ drinking habits, and I was weighing in at 246 at the time of my diagnosis. The bulk of the weight gain was when Mom was on hospice dying from ovarian cancer. She had a sweet tooth so every evening was spent going out for Sonic drinks or ice cream treats from Dairy Queen, Whataburger, Wienerschnitzel, etc. Naturally, if I was going to get Mom something, I wanted something as well. And after she died, I couldn't handle my stress and I had a bad habit of eating out 6 nights a week. I'd visit the Coke machines at school during lunch and after school for a sugar and dopamine boost I needed to do my work. There are now newly built fast food and smoothie outlets across from my work so getting cold fountain sodas and smoothies was easier than before.
End segway
On the evening of May 19, 2020, my gynecologist's office called me while I was shopping for comics (I was anticipating an overnight stay in the hospital and wanted some cheap reading material) and told me about the BRCA mutation. My genes lack proteins for fighting these cancers and I will have a greatly elevated risk of developing breast, ovarian, melanoma, and pancreatic cancers. The endometrial cancer was not a result of the BRCA mutation.
I had a full hysterectomy on May 20, 2021. The surgeon was keen on letting me keep my ovaries to avoid early menopause, but after I tested positive from the BRCA 2 mutation, he removed them to cut the risk of ovarian cancer. And before the genetic testing, I had anticipated this. Things were just going so badly that I knew I'd be in a world of shit.
I began showing the classic menopause symptoms about 2 days after the surgery: hot flashes. I probably shouldn't bitch since I get 20 a day and they last 2 minutes each. At least I'm not soaking through my clothes or bedsheets at night or during the day. I'm on evening primrose oil and Estroven to help curb the symptoms. The boxes say that the meds kick in in about 30-90 days so I'm still sweating it over here. I do notice that my hot flashes are triggered by stress: If I get anxious or overthink then I get a flash. Even positive stress triggers them (seeing visitors after my surgery).
I went to Texas Oncology and the oncologist wants to do 5 sessions of radiation: one treatment a day for five days. I've yet to start.
Also, because of the BRCA, I've had 3 doctors recommend a prophylactic double mastectomy to prevent the breast cancer that has a 60-80% chance of developing in me. I have a lot of mixed emotions about that. My thoughts fluctuate between "this is mutilation," "this is a lot of money," "who will take care of me post-op?" and then sometimes I think, "I do want this." "I won't be sexualized as much," "I might not get cancer again." I have yet to conference with a breast surgeon.
It's been hell. This is a lot to take in between the cancer, diabetes, and BRCA mutation. Sometimes I think God must hate me. But oddly, the cancer did save my life. If I hadn't seen the doctor, she'd have never ordered the genetic testing and I'd have never found out about the BRCA mutation. I have since improved my diet and haven't had a regular soda since May. I've also gone from 246 pounds to 221 pounds fully clothed. This disease was the exigence I needed to get my shit together.