Brave Enough To Be Bliss

was as soon as I started taking hormone replacement therapy, which provided consistent hormone levels, I experienced fewer migraines. I had my post- op appointment with the surgeon that week and she didn’t look at my incision, just glanced quickly at the chart and was ready to walk out the door when I asked about the incontinence. She said it c ouldn’t have had anything to do with the surgery and recommended I see a urologist. I took the first available urology appointment I could get, and it was with a first- year urologist, but I didn’t care, I just wanted someone to tell me how to fix this issue. He gave me a prescription for urgency, which didn’t make any sense to me because I didn’t have an urgency issue . I didn’t have any feeling that I needed to urinate when there was leakage occurring, but I figured he was the doctor, so I took the medication for two weeks like he said. During that timeframe, I called a urologist’s office I had worked with when I was at Shawnee Mission Medical Center, but her nurse said it wouldn’t be a surgical issue so she wouldn’t see me. Of course, the medication didn’t work, so I was really frustrated by this time and begged my primary care physician to contact the urologist from Shawnee Mission personally and explain the whole situation to see if she would see me. That worked and she ordered a voiding cystourethrogram, which can identify bladder and urethral abnormalities. It turns out I had a hole in my bladder the size of a quarter, so the urine was leaking from my bladder out through my vagina (technically referred to as a vesicovaginal fistula), which is why I had no control over it. While that was certainly not good news, it was at least an explanation and hope for a fix. I was 42 years old at this time, so the best news was that I shouldn’t have to remain incontinent for the rest of my life, which had been my biggest fear. The urologist said sometimes these types of holes can heal on their own with the use of a catheter, so I had to wear a catheter for a month to see if it would resolve without surgery. Personally, I wasn’t surprised it didn’t heal, so another minimally invasive surgery was scheduled for late February. I was in the hospital for a few days since there was a concern about pain control. Everything seemed to go smoothly, so I went home with another catheter and wore that for several weeks, but after it was removed there was still a leakage. Several days later the surgeon called me and apologized for the failed surgery but said she wouldn’t try again. I had already been online searching and learning that this was a difficult repair surgery and many failed at that time anyway. The closest surgeon I could find that had much success according to his website was several states away and I figured it would be a long wait time to get in, so I was desperate and begged her to try again. I didn’t care that it would be an open procedure so she could clearly see what she was doing. I appreciated the minimally invasive approach, but I didn’t care about being cut open, I just wanted a repair that worked. She reluctantly agreed, but the surgery wasn’t scheduled until early May. She wanted to see if it would heal on its own and also give my body time to recover from my two previous surgeries. Other than the week of the surgery in late February, I continued to work all through these months, leading lengthy strategic planning meetings with my leg bag sometimes filling up so much the lower leg of my pants would get tight, reminding me it was time to take a break. I wore long formal gowns to community fundraising events with the catheter strapped to my leg and basically life and work went on, but nothing felt at all normal. Once I had started feeling better back in January, I noticed that my left leg felt like it was dragging, and my husband noticed I wasn’t walking normally. I was also h aving trouble with my vision all this time, but compared to incontinence those were issues I was just surviving with until the biggest problem was resolved. As I expected, the fistula didn’t resolve on its own, so the surgery went ahead as planned. My daughter’s eighth grade graduation was less than a week after the surgery and I was in the hospital for five days after this surgery, since it had been an open procedure and pain control was more of an issue. My daughter had arranged for them to put a chair on the side of the bleachers, so I didn’t have to climb any steps, and I was able to watch the ceremony. When I had the test for leakage done at the hospital, I was very relieved when there was none. It was the first time I felt like I could relax a bit in six months. But a s I continued to recover that summer, I still wasn’t feeling very good. Clearly my body had been through a lot, but one Sunday morning, I woke up in bed and couldn’t move or speak…at all. I was awake and comprehending that I couldn’t move or speak. It was difficult to keep

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