Huge operations seem to be akin to a project management cycle and right now I was at the planning stage. Of course, I needed consultancy and second opinions. I wasn't convinced that surgeon was really taking some major news seriously and was on the flippant side.
Help came with Denise. One wonderful woman at work. She cheers up the office on grim days and with an excellent gynaecological surgeon, off we went to see him.
More poking, prodding, stirrups and the same result - hysterectomy. By this point, I had come to terms with it. I knew it had to be done and I couldn't face those crippling pains. At first, the kid thing even bothered me. It was never an option but now one was taken away. Now, my thinking was too many options are confusing and if I really wanted a child..surely, I would've had a one night stand at the time of ovulation. I'm not for thermometers and charts and the fact my uterus was a disaster for two years is besides the point. And yes, for those who knew, I was getting rather fed up with the assumption that it's all about children. Major surgery, one month off work, one month off my life, feeling awful and some ghastly scar also don't particularly bode well.
Anyway, I trusted Dr. Quiroz more. Was it instinct (my trust instinct is highly developed)? Was it because I trusted Denise? Or was it more that I was slowly coming to terms with it?
I must admit that on the metrobus home, I felt strangely deflated. I don't believe in miracles. Or perhaps it was a case of hearing the same bad news twice just makes it far more real
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