The big operation...or, maybe not

Yesterday I went in for my big op - removal of my ovaries and tubes to stage my returning cancer before moving on to chemo. 

I was mentally prepared before going in. My trachelectomy last April meant that I would struggle to conceive, have a much higher risk of a later stage miscarriage and have to give birth via C. section. So I already knew that having a baby of my own might not be on the cards for me. 

But this operation would leave me infertile. No chance of ever having my own baby. As the cancer was found on my ovary, they couldn't risk saving any eggs for the future. But as the chemo drugs I was likely to be given don't affect the womb working, they were leaving that alone so I could at least have the possibility of using a donor egg. So although not genetically my baby, still a chance to carry a child. A small light at the end of the tunnel. (Insert vagina joke here)

After coming around in recovery, I was very quickly sent back up to the day surgery unit and waited for Mum to come and meet me. I felt good, the nurse said I was ok and the surgery had gone well. 

So when Mum told me that the surgeon (Mr Butler, as my usual surgeon Mr Ind is on holiday) had called her and asked to meet for a chat, I was confused and concerned. 

She explained that my right ovary had become fused to my liver and so they couldn't easily remove it. He'd spoken to a member of the radiotherapy team to discuss a plan of action and decided that he would leave the ovaries and tubes where they were, rather than open me up and do a much larger surgery. As he couldn't see anything abnormal at all and believed Mr Ind had removed all the cancer during my op 2 weeks ago, moving straight on to chemo and radiotherapy would be just as effective.

So here I am. Still with ovaries and tubes. 

MIND. FUCK.

I'm back at the hospital on the 18th for a follow up appointment and I assume to find out the plan regarding my chemotherapy.  I didn't remember Alex, my clinical fellow or Jane, my clinical nurse talking about radiotherapy during our last meeting when this surgery was planned. But Steve said they had discussed it and it shutting down my womb. So me asking repeatedly why they weren't just doing a full hysterectomy and Alex saying 'well why would I? You're a young woman' (which still made no bloody sense until right at the end of the meeting when he talked about donor eggs!) feels like a valid question.

I remain positive and hopeful. You hear miracle stories all the time. Plus there's always adoption, which I'm really open to. 

For now, I just need to focus on kicking Bob's arse. I did it once (well, thought I had) so I can do it again. 3 surgeons have had a good old look in me and can't see anything suspicious. My bloods come back clear of cancer markers every time. My full body PET scan was completely clear of anything unusual. I am cancer free right now. I just need to keep it that way.