Burning Pain... And I Volunteered For It.

Thursday, August 16, 2012 was a day that I had looked forward to for three weeks. It was the day that was going to change my life forever. It was going to put an end to me missing life because of my period. Instead, it nearly put an end to my life.

My appointment was at 10 am. I was instructed to arrive an hour early, bring my prescriptions, and have someone waiting to drive me home. My mom was visiting from out-of-state and drove my kiddos and I to the office. I kissed everyone and was taken right back to a prep room. The nurse gave me a cup of water and tipped out a Percocet and a Valium. "Take these. They'll help you relax for the procedure. We're cleaning up the room now and will take you back shortly. Do you have any questions?" No, I did not have any questions, I was just ready to get it done and head home to nap.

I had my iPod and played a rousing game of Mahjong while the medications had a chance to work their way through my bloodstream. Within 15 minutes the nurse was leading me down the short hallway to the surgery room.

Directly in front of the door was the exam table... Stirrups out. The NovaSure instrument was to the left. It had a screen and some warning stickers on it such as "machine will only run for 90 seconds and then will require x amount of time before reuse." There was a chair between the machine and the table along the back wall. I went over and had a seat. Another nurse came in and asked what medications I'd taken and when did I take them (Percocet, Valium in the other room). "Do you have a prescription for ibuprofen?" "Yes," I replied. "May I have it? You'll need to take one of those now." "Yes, here it is." Water, swallow horse-pill sized ibuprofen. The next item on the agenda was a shot in the rear. For the life of me, nearly 3 months later, I think it was a muscle relaxant, but I'm not entirely sure.

Dr. W. came in wearing scrubs, greeted me, and said I needed to strip from the waist down, hop up on the table, and cover with the paper sheet. You know, the typical drill in an OB/GYN exam room. She came right back in, followed by two nurses. I noticed that the room was equipped for IV lines and briefly wondered if they were ever used during this procedure. Again, no one asked me about my history of Group B Strep.

I was swabbed with some sort of cleansing agent and the NovaSure machine was turned-on to get ready. It was not a quiet machine. Dr. W. told me she was going to dilate the cervix and insert the wand. There was a camera on it. "Look at that screen, see all those blood vessels in your uterus. That's a lot. This machine is going to cauterize them all using radio waves. If it's successful, you should have a whole year of absolutely no periods." My response, was something along the lines of "that will be great, those are all blood vessels?"

Before actually turning on the machine, I was reminded that it was going feel like a really bad cramp and it was going to last for a full 90 seconds. "OK. I'm ready."

Ninety seconds can feel like an eternity. I delivered baby #2 without drugs and will readily admit that childbirth is a painful experience. I will also admit that after one scream the doctor looked at me and said, "Screaming will not help you. You need to focus on pushing. Don't scream." I didn't scream again. I just pushed. The NovaSure procedure was a bit like childbirth. It hurt. It really hurt. The nurses asked how I was doing and I barely got out "OK" through my gritted teeth. My eyes watered with the pain (yes, I cried, but I tried no to) of having my uterus burned to a crisp. I wondered what in the world I had gotten myself into. And then, it was over. Unlike childbirth, I did not have anything to show for my efforts or pain. I had a mess. The doctor and nurses cleaned up what I imagine looked a lot like a disemboweling, turned off the light, and let me doze before coming back in a few minutes later.

They came in, sat me up, and told me to sit tight for a bit longer- they'd kept my mom and kids updated in the waiting room. When I felt ready, I could get dressed. They left a heavy duty post-partum type maxi pad for me. Standing up I wobbled on my feet. I managed to get my shorts back on (why, oh why had they not recommended yoga pants for this?), cleaned up a bit more of the gore on the table (I did what I could and figured it just wasn't my job) and opened the door. A nurse walked me out. I scheduled the two week, no, three week follow-up. Dr. W. was booked and couldn't get me in until the three week, nearly four week mark. I was reminded to not swim, take a bath, or have sex for 2 weeks.

The rest of that day is a bit of a blur to me. I napped most of the afternoon. I took a Percocet at the recommended time and then a 600mg ibuprofen before bed. I'm not big on drugs and my mom is a nurse who believes that if you can handle the pain, you should. I could handle it, so I did.

I went to bed early and woke-up feeling great the next day.