Category: Women’s Health

When a Hysterectomy Closes the Baby Door, You Cope with Humour

On May 6th, 2021, all non-essential and elective surgeries in Manitoba were postponed for the month because of the rising number of COVID-19. This included hysterectomies.
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“So, are you sexually active?” asked my gynecologist.

I tilted my head, pressing my lips together. Stifling a giggle. “I’ve had sex … and I remember sex.” We both burst out laughing. I said “I’m basically a virgin.” 

Humour is my coping mechanism. I’ll laugh if I can’t find a street. If I almost lock myself out of the house. If I walk into a wall. I’m the one who couldn’t stop laughing because I was stuck in the Arborg Co-op’s car wash. 

This was a little different though as I sat on an exam table naked from the waist down with a thin piece of paper over me. I felt humour would break the ice as I awaited my third pelvic ultrasound.

My ultrasounds have never been the “fun, happy, you’re having twins” kind. If they were, I’d have the cast of The Sound of Music and their backups. Instead it’s thyroid nodules and two unnamed uterine fibroids.

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The Man-Cold – It’s Not Just For Men

I feel fuzzy.

I have a cold. Most often, I can dodge colds and the flu. When I’m sick, I can shake it off after two or three days.

Regardless of how long, when I’m sick, I’m not just sick. It’s the “Man-Cold.”

The Man-Cold is a blanket term for men and women who whine like a puppy left in a kennel when they’re sick. Because we’re sick. And it’s icky.

Day one? The Man-Cold crept in:

“Oh, this is how it ends,” I said, followed by a house shaking cough. “I’ll never finish my novel or see the Alamo.”

“You never wanted to see the Alamo,” said my husband.

“That’s not the point.”

On day two, I was convinced there wouldn’t be a day three. Surely, one shouldn’t feel such ickiness. My joints ached. My nose was red. My eyes. Where were my eyes? My sinuses were so puffy, I looked like a hollowed out pumpkin. My throat felt like a cat used my tonsils as a scratching post. I lay on the couch, staring at Pinterest. I’m sure at that point I was delirious with a pending fever. Pinning sewing ideas when I have no idea how to spin a bobbin.

My husband walked into the living, smirking when he saw me. Pumpkin cheeks, red rose, surrounded by a mountain of tissues.

“What do you want for lunch?”

With the last of my energy, I said, “Doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, then salmon.”

“Almond butter sandwich. Cut into fours. Crusts cut off … please.”

Continue reading “The Man-Cold – It’s Not Just For Men”