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Guarded Joy

Blink, blink, blink.

There sits my cursor again, dutifully and steadfastly waiting for me to keystroke words of wit or genius or to bloviate about the goings-on of my heart, my day, my world.  I have some pretty big news to share, but the words aren’t coming easily.  It’s good news.  Very good news.

I got a call today from my doctor’s office.  The pathology report from last week’s D&C is in.  My hyperplasia appears to have improved.  I am no longer considered as having atypical complex endometrial hyperplasia.  The diagnosis has been upgraded (my word, not my doctor’s) to atypical simple endometrial hyperplasia.  Specifically, they’re calling it focal atypical endometrial hyperplasia, with “focal” meaning that the adverse tissue is confined to a small location.  My doctor said that my condition “seems potentially improved” and that it is “definitely not worse.”  She wants me to consult with the gynecologic oncologist again to get her thoughts on whether or not we should proceed with the hysterectomy.  In a second conversation with Kathy (my surgeon’s nurse), she said that she’s seen time and time again women who take Megace (the same medication I am taking) improve and no longer need hysterectomies.  I am encouraged by the fact that four months on this medication (most of which at an accidental lower dose, let me add), brought me to the point I’m at today.  Of the four types of endometrial hyperplasia, I am now at the “third worst,” if you will – two steps away from uterine cancer and not one.  I am waiting for my oncologist to call me back with an appointment time, and will continue to take the Megace until we reach a decision about next steps.  My research tells me that women with atypical hyperplasias can take up to twice the dose of Megace I am taking for up to one year.  If my oncologist does recommend the hysterectomy, my plan of attack will be to ask her for six more months on double the medication, with a repeat D&C in February to see where we stand.  If the hyperplasia is still there, I will concede defeat and have the hysterectomy.  If not, well…not.

I am having a hard time processing this information.  I should be over the moon, jubilantly dancing and singing and thrilled that I am one step farther away from the invasive hysterectomy I thought for sure was so imminent.  But I’m…not.  Cautious happy optimism, perhaps?  Guarded joy?  I’m too afraid to give this amazing news the joy it deserves because I fear the worst.  Maybe I am just numb?  Maybe 24 hours will help this beautiful blessing of an update sink in and clarity (and squeals of joy) will come?  I feel so silly.  And foolish.  Almost like an ingrate.  I am grateful.  Just worried.

Thanks again to all of you for the continued outpouring of love and prayers and support and well wishes.  I could not do this absent all your love and support.  I just don’t think I could have come this far.

Comments

  1. Heather Wesenberg says:

    Yay, Jen! Yay! That’s excellent news! Can’t to hear what your oncologist says! Woo!

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