Warning: too much information including another reproductive organ discussion and a message to my bowel.
So, I had my specialist appointment and it turns out I don’t have endometriosis after all. Now I guilty for being so happy not to have that condition because so many women are stuck with it!
Anyway, so sitting at this appointment with my big fancy specialist gynaecologist person, and she brings up the lab result thingies (I’m really brill at this medical terminology business) and she says “Oh!” and frowns. And I’m all “Whaaaaaaaaaat!?!?!” and then she turns to me and says “So, it turns out it isn’t endometriosis after all!” That’s all very fine and dandy for her, but I’ve been stressing my little heart out about fertility, and adhesions, and pain, and ongoing medical costs, and how I’m going to cope with having a hormonal contraceptive device and blah blah blah. And all of a sudden that isn’t of any concern! It threw me. I forgot my Very Important Questions. But seeing as I’d already forgotten to bring the list of my Very Important Questions with me, the likelihood of me remembering to ask them was already very slim, but STILL. It threw me.
My specialist then informed me that it was a serous cystadenoma. Which isn’t serious. Just serous. And probably won’t happen again. I mean, not entirely out of this realm of possibility, but not a high chance like the return of endo ya know? She showed me some photos looking at the cyst and we ‘ooohed’ and ‘aaahed’ a bit about how attached the cyst was to my bowel and how twisted it was at its base (that’s “torsion” apparently… see, I will get my head around this medical stuff eventually). And I felt rather fond of my bowel because it was just trying to protect that wee cystadenoma because while it was twisting around it was cutting off its own blood supply. So my gallant bowel came to the rescue and tried to save it by wrapping itself around the poor cyst. Isn’t that nice? Oh, except for the fact that it was a GIANT CYST. Bowel, you really need to think about who you try and save next time.
Especially because somehow that cyst had got itself caught up with my fallopian tube too. So unfortunately the right one is a write off, as my specialisty person couldn’t tell that it was there until it was too late. But I have another! All is not lost!
So apart from grossing me out by throwing around the term “necrosis” a few times (that was what was happening to the cyst. Ick.), I was really enjoying learning all about this stuff. But it seems my journey into becoming a reproductive organ expert has come to the end as I won’t be needing to see my incredibly expensive specialist again. My bank account is STOKED. And hopefully no more cysts ever again in my whole entire life. That’d be nice.