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A Video Game?

Okay, so maybe this will be too much information.  I know you don't know me very well, that we just met.  It's something that you don't necessarily want to know about.  But, listen, here it is:  I have uterine fibroids.

"What?" you ask, "In the hell is that?"

Or maybe you know about the little benign tumors that grow in woman, just after they arc past viable childbearing age.  That's me:  Just past viable childbearing age.  They can be painful and inconvenient and interfere with that solitary life my uterus was having since I gave birth going on twenty one years ago.  I imagine them like rocks,rumbling around inside me.  That's what it feels like sometimes.

So I'm going to have a slick little procedure done in a couple of weeks, nothing too intense.  My doctor says the operation is like a video game.  Then he told me it was like farming--the little scope rolling up and down the walls of the uterus, getting every single surface.  A farming video game.  He loves this operation.  It's so much fun.

My mouth hung open.

Anyway, here's what I was thinking.  For women like me who happened to live in any time before, say, 1920,this condition was all about ten years of bleeding and pain.  Then, when menopause showed up, the tumors would shrink, all the estrogen dried up, the little tumors going home.

But those ten years!

I feel lucky to be alive in this century, even though I should have bought stock in Tampax by now.

But despite the fact this is out patient surgery and no big deal--just like a farming video game--I have to sign an advanced directive.  You know, that happy little sheet that tells folks what to do with you should you become incapacitated.

How I felt was:  Who is in charge of me now?  My husband is not my husband.  My boyfriend is my boyfriend, but maybe we haven't had the thorough "What Do You Do With Me When I Am In A Coma" talk yet.  We've skirted around it, I think.  My former spouse knew that I wanted out.  Out!  My mother knows that I have no interest in hanging around vegetable like, but that's a great deal of pressure for her.  Her time of being in charge of my body is over.  She put in enough time.  My sons are in their early twenties.  My friend Elizabeth knows to bring a gun and a bottle of pills at any such event, but she's too busy dating right now to do this.

Who gets the pleasure of turning me off?

It's weird not having anyone walking beside me, no one legally responsible for my physical body any more.  Divorce brings that as well, this sense of complete physical responsibility.  I'm the one to haul myself around mostly.  Now my boyfriend is here to help during migraines or stomach flu, but when it comes down to what to do with my body--it's my decision, my choice.  But if I can't speak, I have to have trusted someone, spoken my wishes.

I know what I want to have happen should something dire occur during the procedure, and I think that my boyfriend has inherited this task.  It's what we do for each other in relationships.  It's one way that we care.  We say your heart and your body are mine to care for.  I take you on.  What do you want me to do for you?  I will do it.  The best I can.


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Good luck, my dear!

I love reading each and every one of your "too much info" blogs.  Your stories/essays are not about the writing life but LIFE lived.  I would feel I'm missing something in my day if I didn't get a shot of Ms. Inclan.

Ain't it fun being past child-bearing age!?!  I am just learning to live.

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Thank you Belle!  I think

Thank you Belle!  I think this whole thing will be fine.

Yes, I actually do like being past a lot of the child-bearing years stuff.  In fact, I do feel freer.  Once the farming video is over, well, then it's going to be great!

You sned me such nice thoughts--and I appreciate them all.


Jessica Barksdale Inclan www.jessicabarksdaleinclan.com

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Trust the doctors

For reasons I don't quite understand, I tend to trust doctors, sort of in the same way I trust airplanes and rollercoasters. Bad things can happen, but almost always don't. And the procedures themselves tend to be less painful and uncomfortable than getting your teeth cleaned. In fact, in some ways it's kind of fun to be drugged up ... legally. Of course you should be concerned. But it's concern that should be pushed way-way back in the corner of your awareness. Otherwise, it's a waste of energy.

By the way, I'd like to say hi! I write fantasy and am new to redroom.

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But Jim, you don't have a uterus!

Whether you have one or not, welcome to redroom.com.  I enjoyed your argument for fantasy.  It's all fantasy as far as I am concerned.

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Some of my best friends are

Some of my best friends are doctors . . . even my sister.

I do see your point, and Belle is right, you don't have a uterus.  But even so, I tend to trust people who do what they do and have been doing it a long time.  Of course, there are issues and things that happen and mistakes.  Why should doctors be perfect?  Hard to be.

Thanks for your words.

Welcome to redroom.  I'm a big fantasy person myself.  I write those paranormal things!


Jessica Barksdale Inclan www.jessicabarksdaleinclan.com

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Trust in Docs

I so love my doctor.  I weep invisible tears each time I visit him.  If he moved to Christ Church, New Zealand, I'd move there, too.


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Best Wishes

A bit positive attitude combined with many good wishes goes a long way in this kind of things. Take care and only think about the positive things.

Speaking of video game, there was a game in the late nineties, there was a video game where you play God, creating/destroying/meddling everything as you wish. The thought goes back all the way to the age when bards sang about the great adventure of Odysseus. Aren’t everything possibly part of a bigger part of game played by someone else?

Renjie Wang      redroom.com

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Playing god reminds me of

Playing god reminds me of the game with the Sims--sort of overseeing it all.

Thanks for the good wishes.


Jessica Barksdale Inclan www.jessicabarksdaleinclan.com