My dang fibroids revealed

Jumped from my seat and joined the Interventional Radiologist standing by the MRI images. He pointed to my fibroids and I was awe-struck. There they were. Irregular masses everywhere. Inside of my uterus. Outside of my uterus. Fascinating but kind of creepy. I knew they would have to go. There was no way I could coexist with these dang uterine fibroid tumors.

The Verdict:
I was a candidate for Uterine Fibroid Embolization (UFE) but required another procedure first.

There is a slight risk of passing fibroid tissue after UFE (from 2-3 percent according to Uterine Fibroid Embolization information at RadiologyInfo.org). This problem is associated with submucosal fibroids located just under the lining of the uterus.

Surgery prior to UFE would take care of my fibroid(s) that posed the greatest risk. So, my IR talked to my GYN and the two of them came up with a plan. Go team!

The debonair fibroid doctor

There seems to be a “smart and cute doctor” tree that grows in my neck of the woods. Every time I require medical assistance, an unknown force shakes that tree and another falls out. I now have two. Not complaining. Just an observation.

After my MRI, I was scheduled to meet with an Interventional Radiologist (IR) to determine if I was a candidate for Uterine Fibroid Embolization. While waiting, I chatted with the nurse. All of a sudden, the “debonair fibroid doctor” walked in. (I just had to wonder if you were required to submit a head shot or one of those movie screen tests to work in this hospital.) The IR shuffled through the images and then asked if I wanted a closer look. Of course, the geek in me could not resist.

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Related Posts:
How do I find a good local fibroid doctor?
How do I evaluate or rate a fibroid doctor?
What questions should I ask my fibroid doctor?
Does my Interventional Radiologist remind me of a comic book character?

MRI as a catalyst for spiritual awakening (part II)

Perhaps had I not been required to enter the MRI scanner headfirst, my brain would have behaved differently. Having considered myself a pretty civilized individual (lived with a roof over my head, ate with a fork, read books), nothing prepared me for the instinctive, primal reaction that occurred. “Fight-or-flight” and my mind wanted out. Could physically feel my brain racing around in my skull like some crazed jack rabbit. I was going deeper and deeper into this thing and I believe I was now experiencing a panic attack. My heart was beating out of my chest and I could not catch my breath. Oh, this is not good.

Brain struggled to piece together coherent thoughts. I finally remembered the technologist’s words:

“Squeeze this if you need to come out at anytime.”

The bulb. I have an out. My mind rejoiced. All I had to do was squeeze the bulb. Nothing happened. Yoohoo, hand. Squeeze the bulb. Still nothing. HEY! SQUEEZE…THE…BULB! Oh, it was on. Knock-down, drag-out between my mind and my body. The two had been fighting for decades but this one was on a new level. Like brawl cubed. Colorful language was used. Threats were made. Something about breaking from reality and emotional scarring. I don’t remember it all but it was ugly.

Then it happened. My spirit, normally tranquil, interrupted:

“We need to work together on this. Can’t continue to be sick from the fibroid problem. Must move forward. Time to be logical. Stop panicking. You aren’t sealed in here. You feet are sticking out. You could actually wiggle your way out of here if necessary. Calm down and listen to your CD.”

OK. Yeah. Feet were sticking out. Got happy and started moving my toes. Listed to my music and heard “Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of “. Started giggling because I decided that this would be my “fibroid theme song”. The technologist came over the intercom and asked I was all right. I was fine. She started the test, telling me when to hold my breath and when to relax. Between listening to her voice and one of my favorite bands, the 30 minutes passed easily. Came out to get the injection of contrast material and went back in for about 5 minutes. Heard “Beautiful Day“. Yep, it was definitely turning out to be that way.

Note: Seems as though I’m not the only one with an MRI story. Check out: “How Stuff Works“.

MRI as a catalyst for spiritual awakening (part I)

Before my MRI appointment that would allow visualization of the fibroids, I decided to talk to my husband about his experience. Since he had been skydiving many times, I figured his opinion would be valid. My husband told me that he would not allow the technologist to start until someone assured him that in the event of a nuclear attack and subsequent power failure, he would still be able to get out. I started chuckling because I really thought he was being silly with the whole “nuclear attack” thing. My husband can be such a joker. I didn’t take him seriously. I will be fine.

The morning of, I looked over the instructions one more time:
Something about if you are claustrophobic and require medication…blah, blah. I had jumped out of a plane. I did not need sedation. Plus, I would know if I were claustrophobic, right? I will be fine. The second thing was the music. I could bring a CD and listen to it during the test. Cool. Definitely U2: The Best of 1990-2000. Meaningful lyrics. Music rocks. End of discussion.

Arrived and changed into the always fashionable hospital gown. Handed my CD to the technologist and stretched out on the sliding table. The technologist fully explained everything. If you are looking for a good web site that gives an overview of the procedure, visit: Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) – Body. My test would take about 30 minutes. Then an injection of contrast material and back in for about 5 minutes. She warned me of the noisiness of the machine but said the headphones would help. The last thing I remember before going in was the technologist handing me a bulb and saying:

“Squeeze this if you need to come out at anytime.”

No problem. I’d get to listen to 30 minutes of U2. I will be fine.

Top 10 reasons why an MRI is not like skydiving

10. Magnetic Resonance Imaging is definitely not a sport.

9. It could possibly involve an injection with a needle.

8. You have to show up at a medical facility instead of an airfield.

7. You do not get to ride in a plane.

6. You change into a hospital gown instead of a cool jump suit and parachute.

5. Nobody slaps you on the back and says “good job” when you’re done.

4. There is no instructor physically with you the whole time (tandem jumping).

3. The sheer panic you feel is not the exciting thrill of participating in an adventure.

2. The view kind of sucks.

and the #1 reason why an MRI is not like skydiving:

“Hey, I just had an MRI” does not sound nearly as cool as “Hey, I just jumped out of a plane”.

What does skydiving have to do with this?

It makes a great reference point. This will make more sense once I start posting about the MRI used to evaluate my fibroids.

When I turned 30, I wanted to do something huge (and slightly crazy). A dear friend decided we should round up some folks and go skydiving. That just sounded too cool. Didn’t seem to matter that I had never even been on a plane before. Minor detail. No big deal.

Because this was my first experience, the jump was tandem (me connected to an instructor). Got through the training and was excited to enter the plane. Felt that self-induced shot of adrenalin as the plane left the ground. Could not avert my eyes from the window. The clouds, the blue sky. Being up that high for the first time was breathtaking, mesmerizing. I remember hearing one of the experienced jumpers asking if I was OK and my friend responding that I had never flown before.

The moment arrived. It was my turn to exit the plane. With a tandem jump, the instructor was the one who actually pushed off. I had to walk to the edge, dangle my feet outside, and then observe nothing under them but thousands of feet of air. To me, that was the hardest part. A true test of faith.

I will never forget any of it. Closing my eyes in the doorway. Opening them when it felt like I was flying. Having a cartoon moment when, after opening my mouth, my jaws felt like rubber. Really enjoying the free-fall. Observing the absolute beauty of the world while under the canopy. Panicking slightly when I realized the ground was approaching quickly. Feeling relieved and exhilarated when I reached the ground and proud when the experienced jumpers shook my hand and slapped me on the back. The camaraderie in this sport was amazing.

Unforgettable. If you ever get the chance, do it. I’ve carried that feeling of accomplishment with me since and often use it as inspiration.

Now, let’s compare this to an MRI…

A letter addressed to my cervix

No, not really but it could have been. While waiting for the scheduled MRI appointment, I received a letter through the mail from my Gynecologist’s office. I opened it and there were the results of my Pap smear. Not some long scientific report. Just a statement that indicated that everything was fine.

That simple piece of paper was spiritually uplifting. Symptoms from fibroids can be varied and far-reaching. At times, you think nothing about you is OK. Reading the words “within normal limits” was such a sign of hope. There were so many things going on with my body that felt so wrong. It was great to know that, at the same time, there were things that were right.

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Related Posts:
I just call it The Gator
Can’t we figure out a better way to do a Pap Test?

I’ll take Uterine Fibroid Embolization for $200 Alex

After going over the treatment options, my Gynecologist asked if I had a preference. Since I practically lived on the Web, I knew my answer. I had previously viewed an actual Uterine Fibroid Embolization (UFE) procedure over the Internet and felt most comfortable with this choice. My doctor then explained that would require an MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) and I would then be evaluated by an Interventional Radiologist to determine if I was a candidate. This sounded fine. So, the plan was set into motion.

Just a note about how I make medical decisions. Realizing that it is not always feasible to know exactly what is wrong, I was fortunate, in this case, to have a diagnosis. I visited web sites and viewed video until I arrived at my conclusion. I did my homework and had a ready answer. The second component here was a good doctor. It was important to have someone who asked my opinion, listened to my answer, and followed through with a plan of action.

Definitely a part of that whole mind/body/spirit concept. My body required healing but my mind and spirit had to be OK with any decision. For me, that decision was Uterine Fibroid Embolization.

View an actual UFE procedure

Get more information on UFE

Let’s talk about your uterine fibroid treatment options

After the Pap Test and pelvic exam, I got dressed and headed back to my doctor’s office. I cannot stress enough how important it was for me to be able to speak with my Gynecologist while sitting in a chair on the other side of his desk. It’s next to impossible to seriously talk to anyone in an examination room while wearing something that could be used to clean a kitchen spill.

So, these were my treatment options:

  • Gn-RH agonist (Lupron) – temporary stoppage of menstruation and shrinkage of fibroids
  • Endometrial Ablation – removal of the lining of the uterus
  • Myomectomy – removal of the fibroids while leaving the uterus intact
  • Uterine Fibroid Embolization – small particles injected into the arteries cut off blood flow causing fibroids to shrink
  • Hysterectomy – removal of the uterus

You can find out more detailed information by visiting these sites:

  1. The Society of Interventional Radiology – Uterine Fibroid Treatment Options
  2. MayoClinic.com – Treatment

Can’t we figure out a better way to do a Pap Test?

I know the Pap Test is important for the early detection of cervical cancer. I truly comprehend the necessity. I do not understand, in the year 2006, why it is still performed the same way.

Don’t get me wrong. My doctor is great during the whole procedure. He talks. I attempt to crack jokes. The nurse smiles. Just one big Fun Fest. That still does not negate how the sample is collected. No, it’s not painful at all. It is odd and I feel it the next day. That weird sensation that something is a little off.

Why can’t it be like the original Star Trek? Bones McCoy would wave some electronic gizmo over a patient and immediately know if there was a problem. I know that level of detection isn’t right around the corner but we do have space travel and cell phones.

And yes, I have added this question to my “what is taking so long?” list along with flying cars and transporters. Thanks for asking. ;-)

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Related Posts:
I just call it The Gator
A letter addressed to my cervix

The dashing young fibroid doctor

Technically, as a Gynecologist and Obstetrician, my doctor is capable of performing a variety of tasks but since I require someone to fix a specific problem, “dashing young fibroid doctor” seems to fit.

On my first visit to the practice, I was impressed that it was so well managed. Tons of nurses and support staff efficiently assisted the doctors. “That is a very good sign”, I thought as I travelled along the corridor, finally reaching my destination.

I walked into the doctor’s office and my first impression…cute but young. Quickly performing the med school + residency calculation in my head, I figured he had to be about thirty but gosh, he didn’t look it. OK. Yes, I was totally surprised by my bout of ageism. I sometimes get that “you look too young to have a brain” thing from people but it didn’t seem to stop me from being a bit hypocritical here. Decided that was pretty crazy and started listening.

Based on my previous ultrasound, fibroids were certainly present. He would do a Pap Smear (Oh, joy!) and a pelvic exam. We would then meet back in his office to discuss options.

My second impression…definitely professional.

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Related Posts:
How do I find a good local fibroid doctor?
How do I evaluate or rate a fibroid doctor?
What questions should I ask my fibroid doctor?
Is my Gynecologist Superman or Mighty Mouse?

It’s a good thing I love spinach

So, after being diagnosed with iron deficiency anemia because of my fibroids, I was left with specific instructions:

  1. Take 65mg ferrous sulfate 3 times a day
  2. Eat plenty of iron-rich foods
  3. Go to the ER for a blood transfusion if symptoms worsen

I took the iron pills and consumed enough spinach to make Popeye proud. Fortunately, I never required a blood transfusion for my anemia.

The American Academy of Family Physicians has a nice site with health information for patients called FamilyDoctor.org. I found the page on anemia quite helpful. It discusses symptoms, causes, foods high in iron, and tips on taking iron pills.

OK. Next stop (quasi-sinister music) – first visit with my new Gynecologist!