Women's health is a funny thing. We get all kinds of advice about staying healthy, going through "the change," managing our weight and our hormones and all our various issues. And then, when the rubber hits the road and it's time to DO something about those recalcitrant female parts, no one is talking, which is odd in our modern era of TMI wherein we post selfies taken in our messy bathrooms with dirty towels and toilets in the background.

Back in January/February this year, my ovaries decided to mutiny. I think they've attempted a hostile takeover before, but this time they put me down for several weeks, clinging to a hot water bottle day and night. Now, I'm not a pain weenie... I birthed four children naturally, so being knocked to the couch in pain was a new experience. An ultrasound revealed ovarian cysts. I went with the conservative treatment - hormone therapy - for several months, to no avail. The 4 cm complex cyst on my left ovary refused to respond, and other symptoms arose... things "nice" girls don't discuss. UGH. I've never been a nice girl, why start now? But for the sensitive, let's leave it at "chronic pelvic pain," which translates into cranky, weepy, unhappy momma.


Anyway, I'm scheduled for a LAVH-BSO on Monday morning. That's a "laparoscopically assisted vaginal hysterectomy with a bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy" for those of us who don't read acronyms. In layman's terms, all the girl parts are going bye-bye. I'd kind of like to get my uterus bronzed, the way they do with baby shoes, but I don't think the hospital offers that option.


Seriously, I'm not thrilled with the process of surgery and recovery, but I welcome the prospect of being pain-free and hormonally-balanced (I'll start bioidentical hormone replacement after surgery). In fact, the idea of a world without PMS/PMDD is about as close to a fairy tale as I can imagine in this natural realm. We shall see... I could be a whole different person!


In the meantime, prayers and positive thoughts for no complications, rapid healing, and complete resolution of the problem are very much appreciated!

My P for a2z could have been PAT, for my hubby, or procrastination, purpose, presence; even popcorn or peanuts or personality. Instead I've opted to venture out on a hormonal limb... my P is for PREMENSTRUAL. (If you wish to run away screaming now, go ahead. No hard feelings.)

I didn't even realize I'd developed a problem until I had baby #3 (the one who started his senior year in high school this week).
Several months after his birth I found myself sitting on the living room floor, rocking and sobbing, unable to remember my own name. Certifiable? In a former generation, probably. I was out of control enough to scare myself, anyway.

If your hubby looks like this guy some days...

From month to month my symptoms ebbed and flowed... confusion, depression, fits of rage, uncontrollable anger, crying jags, severe panic attacks, forgetfulness, exhaustion, nausea, headaches, stomach trouble, nightmares. For at least a week out of every month I was convinced my husband's head was entirely too small for his neck and my children were trolls. No matter how much I cleaned all I saw was dirt and filth in my home.


I was a fairly new Christian at the time, just learning about walking by faith and trusting God. I knew my behavior was completely contrary to who I was in Christ, but I couldn't seem to control myself. 

The physical/mental/emotional symptoms were bad enough. The spiritual symptoms were unbearable. For 10 days prior to my period I felt spiritually dead. I read the Word the way a middle schooler reads a university philosophy textbook – completely void of interest and understanding. My prayer life was dull, dry and empty.  I felt guilty and condemned. I went to church and battled sarcasm, irritation and an inability to ignore the pastor rattling his change and keys in his pocket during the message and the wobbly beehive bun in the front row. If I was saved, why couldn't I act better? Why did it seem like God was so far away?

I fasted. I prayed. I belittled myself for being weak and lame and a Christian wimp.
I changed my diet and tried herbal and homeopathic remedies with varying degrees of success.

 Eventually I explained to spouse and kids the physiological changes I was experiencing from month to month. Hubby learned to watch for "signs" so he knew what who to expect when he came home from work. Kids learned to "be on their best behavior" when mommy had her monthly crazies.


Seventeen years later PMS is still a battle for me (although my sons and son-in-law have a better understanding of the female menstrual cycle than most physicians). Increased knowledge and the addition of prescription medications mean I'm less likely to throw things, kick the furniture and rant for hours over misplaced action figures and Legos. These days I'm more inclined to go into hiding (literally) than I am to fly off the handle and have a random emotional meltdown. 

For the love of other humans, especially my children and hubby, that's probably a good thing. For myself,  I'm still NOT MYSELF for a week, and that's frustrating. Imagine losing yourself for 10-12 days every month, barely able to function and completely unable to trust your reactions to people and situations. That's PMS (or PMDD).

It's easy to joke about (believe me, I've heard them all) and easy to discount as a non-issue if you aren't a sufferer. Most physicians brush aside the symptoms of PMS/PMDD as a "girl problem." 
It's not so easy to live with, much like so many of the chronic health issues many of us face. May weclearn to offer each other grace instead of rebuke, mercy instead of judgment, in the light of those conditions.

"What do you mean, 'I have PMS?'"
For one or two days (at least) a month, I wake up wearing "ugly glasses." They are the opposite of "rose-colored glasses." These goggles make everything look atrocious.
I look ugly. My clothes look weird. My house looks filthy, the yard trashy, my children onery, and my charming husband starts to look like an ogre. I see things I dislike everywhere around me and struggle to change them. This results in hours of "angry cleaning," which involves lots of stomping, cabinet slamming, vacuum banging, self-pity, and general misery. If I'm dressing to go somewhere, it means my entire wardrobe will be relegated to a heap on my bed, or the closet floor, in search of something that doesn't look "awful." Is any of this ringing true with any of you female readers? And if you're a guy, maybe it will help you understand your wife or girlfriend or daughter or mother!
I surmise these glasses are caused by a nasty episode of PMS (commonly known as Pre-Menstrual Syndrome, a.k.a. Psychotic Mood Shift, Puffy Mid-Section, and my personal favorite: Potential Murder Suspect, all from funnyandjokes.com). I've recently learned that "if your PMS is noticed by those around you, it's probably PMDD." I haven't even tried to figure that one out. I think it means PMS double-dog. Like a double-dog-dare?
After years of enduring these "ugly" days I had an epiphany while I sniveled over the condition of my bathroom. The revelation is not new, and you've probably heard it before: "Your perception is your reality."
Just like certain eye problems affect your depth perception, PMS goggles cause a change in your "reality perception." Now, acknowledging this didn't change the symptoms, but it certainly gave me some hope! If these "goggles" are a side effect of a temporary physical condition, then maybe I'm not a hopeless housekeeper, a terrible mother, and a lousy wife! I haven't instantly transformed into a frump with an IQ of 18.5, and my face hasn't really changed it's size or shape overnight. It's all just a perception, and tomorrow is a new day!
My question is this: If these physical changes produce such a dramatic effect on my perception of reality, what else is influencing my perceptions of the world around me? Am I yielding my emotions, my beliefs, my actions, to some external influence, instead of being influenced by God within? I read a little book many years ago about dealing with PMS as a Christian woman. The author, whose name I cannot recall, said, "Just because you have PMS symptoms does not give you the right to stop acting like a follower of Christ." Ouch.
Here's the good news: If you know your perceptions are off, you can let Christ compensate for your lack of accurate perception! It sounds easy, but in practice it's a "battle royale," as my youngest likes to say.
I wear contacts or glasses every day. Without them, I'm legally blind. I have to use "visual aids" to compensate for my physical weakness. Jesus is my "perception aid." When someone (or everyone) is irritating me, if I allow Christ's perception of that individual (even if it's ME) to color mine, my feelings will change.

Talk about preaching to the choir. I think this post was for me!