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The Sacred Geometry Of Chance

“He deals the cards to find the answer.  The sacred geometry of chance.  The hidden law of a probable outcome.  The numbers lead a dance.”  –  Sting, “Shape Of My Heart”

Hello Internet.  I’m sorry I haven’t written since last Thursday’s D&C.  The procedure itself “went beautifully” (my surgeon’s words) and, again, I had a wonderful experience with the staff at Menorah Medical Center.  I wasn’t anywhere near as groggy or sleepy, and once I woke up, I stayed awake.  The bleeding was very minimal, and I had no cramping.  My anesthesiologist and I hit it off beautifully.  Ever have one of those moments where you meet someone and you feel like long-lost, old friends?  That was Dr. David and I.  We laughed and talked and talked, and he promised me he’d come and see me in recovery.  Since I was so groggy last time, I said, “But I won’t remember you or be alert enough to talk to you.”  He smiled and said, “Oh, you’ll be alert.”  And I was.  We talked about music and how convinced he is that I should quit my day job  and teach vocal music to little children.  We talked about our children, love, and life.  He was wonderful, as were my amazing nurses, and it was, again, another amazing and wonderful experience at Menorah.  I wasn’t at all scared, and I did well.  Until this weekend….

…I spent most of Friday relaxing, minus the few hours in the morning that I went shopping and then that evening, when my bosses and family and I went to First Friday in the Crossroads Art District.  I then spent the majority of the next day, Saturday, back-to-school shopping and enjoying tax-free weekend with my in-laws across the Missouri border.  I started feeling unwell, and was horrified to discover that I was bleeding.  Heavily.  I called the doctor on call, who assured me that bleeding was normal 7-to-1o days following a D&C (but why did it start NOW, I wondered?), but warned me to stop pushing myself.  No more being out-and-about.  Shopping ends.  Go home, put your feet up, and do nothing the rest of the weekend.  We came home and I slept for about 15 (!!) hours.  I didn’t realize how exhausted I was.  I feel a lot less wobbly today, and I spent the majority of the day taking it easy, minus the week-ahead grocery shopping and yummy-casserole-making and laundry-doing I felt I had no choice but to do.  Life goes on, regardless of whether or not momma’s sick.  I feel better physically and I’m heading back to work tomorrow.  No more keeping my feet up and relaxing the days away (which, truly, is fine by me….this whole “sitting around doing nothing” thing gets very old very quickly.)

So now…now we wait.  The pathology report should be in this week, and we should know by Friday whether or not a hysterectomy will be the next step on my journey.  As I mentioned when we last spoke, the whole thought of losing my uterus is frightening to me.  The enormity of it hit me today and I cried.  I’m terrified of the procedure itself.  It’s a significant and major surgery, and I am not healthy enough yet for it.  I’ve had major, major surgeries before, and I absolutely hate how I feel afterward….for weeks afterward.  Like a patient and not a woman.  Like a science experiment and not a person.  More than anything, I am heartsick for the potential loss of my uterus.  We’ve had this conversation before.  It’s old news.  Everyone knows that Jen doesn’t want to lose her fertility.  I am having a horribly hard time letting go of this fear and being positive.  Everyone…wonderful everyone tells me to be positive.  And they’re right! I’ve done everything that my doctor and my oncologist have told me to do, and I can do no more.  I dutifully took my Megace.  I had my D&Cs.  I let go of the fear and the tearful nights and I went on with my life.  I did what I was told to do and now, this situation is out of my control.  The worry is foolish and accomplishes nothing, but I can’t shake it.  My oncologist told me that the medication I’ve been taking can reverse early stage endometrial cancer, so the likelihood is very, very strong that it can reverse my atypical complex endometrial hyperplasia.  I want to be positive and want to believe so badly, but I…can’t.  If I believe and if I put my faith in this beautiful notion that this part of my journey is over and that I won’t lose my fertility, only to learn later that I do indeed need a hysterectomy, I will be devastated.  I’ll feel I lost twice,  Once to an illness I couldn’t beat and once to myself, for filling my head with false hopes and well-intentioned deceptions. Isn’t it better to prepare myself for the inevitable worst, so that, no matter what comes, I’m prepared?  Belief or worry, at this point, it doesn’t matter.  The numbers lead the dance right now.  Did we have enough time on the Megace to fight this disease?  Or does my pre-cancerous condition remain in spite of our best efforts?  This sacred geometry of chance, with all its angles and sharp turns, is so unbelievably scary to me.


  1. Jen, You have done every thing you were supposed to do. Take a breath, Let go and Let God. Put It in his hands and have faith in his love. Do what your Doctor says and trust in the love of your family and friends. We are all here for you to help you no matter which way the results come back. Remember what we talked about. How It is better to lose your uterus than your life. Hopefully you won’t have to make that choice. But if you do, Is there really any question as to what you would want? Of course not. Life is precious and you have so much more of it to live with your beautiful Daughter and terrific Husband. Try to concentrate on your Goals for your health and if you need to vent please call me any time. You are in my prayers. <3 Mom V


  1. […] procedure.  It’s all “old hat” now.  Past history (see here and here) gives me comfort, and I know that everything will be fine tomorrow.  I have to be at the hospital […]

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