I was so happy to be home. However, although I knew that I had changed in a big way, it was hard for others to see that I wasn’t up to snuff and couldn’t do my usual activities. My dogs were totally confused. They angrily barked for me to take them out for a walk. My husband, who had the best of intentions and a touch of ADHD, would forget that I was up in my bed for hours at a time. My teenage sons were off with their friends. It was time to call for reinforcements. My mother came in to help me recover. She helped to keep me from overdoing it and to keep me company.We watched a lot of really horrible movies and laughed, reminisced and rested. No matter how old I get, my mom can always make me feel better. Now, two weeks post op, I am up and around, walking daily, and have about 80% of my energy back.

I was so distressed when I found out that I needed the hysterectomy. I was upset that I was going to miss work and that I couldn’t continue to do all my multi-tasking. I was upset that my body “failed” me. I felt powerless. The funny thing is that in losing my uterus, I found my power. I learned so much about “the patient” experience. I understood the frustration that my patients express with the way the whole medical system is set up. I learned how to work with the system to get what I needed. I experienced the therapies that I regularly recommend to patients first hand and realized their potency. I was able to reconnect with my mother in a way that we never could have done if I weren’t confined to my bed. Most importantly, I learned to ask for and accept help. How amazing that in losing an organ that has meant so much to me throughout my life that I would gain power, knowledge, wisdom and grace.