I’ve never been good at failing. In fact, for most of my life, I have been so afraid of mistakes (and ultimately failure) that it has likely stopped me from trying new things, going to new places and living a more adventurous life. This recent challenge I’ve had to face is a bit of a quandary – a conundrum – still. In fact, no one can tell me what’s actually going on.
It started with a return from vacation. I sat on my exercise bike, something I have done thousands of times before, and felt a little sore “down there” (you know what I mean) after about an hour-long ride. That’s no more than I usually do, so I didn’t think much of it. Well, I was sore for days, then a week, then I started to develop pelvic pain. After three or four days of that, I finally called my doctor's office and spoke to a nurse. After relaying messages, I got a phone call back and was told that I needed to be seen by a doctor “within 24 hours.” Huh? I mean, ok, I guess. However, they could not get me an appointment in the office so I would need to go to urgent care. I really didn’t feel like I needed urgent care. I had been living with this condition (whatever it was) for over a week and was still doing normal things, even bike riding and pilates.
The nurse, however, planted a seed of doubt in my mind. Seven years ago, I had a battle with prolapse. (Pelvic organ prolapse - Symptoms and causes - Mayo Clinic). It was a shock to my system and quite uncomfortable. But after birthing two kids, it was to be expected at some point in my life, I guess. I wish we talked about lady parts more, so I wasn’t completely blindsided by this occurrence. Apparently 40% of women ages 50 – 79 have this condition. I was sent to physiotherapy, which was basically an internal massage to relax supporting muscles that were too tight on one side, and I did physical therapy (think squats, glute bridges and core exercises). Within a year, I had won the battle with prolapse. Sometimes when I get tired (like don’t sleep well for many nights in a row), I have the feeling of prolapse again for a few days. With this new pelvic pain I was experiencing, the fear of prolapse came back again. I know that it's likely I will have to have surgery in the future (like when I'm in my 70s and through with menopause) but I would like to avoid that for as long as possible.
I called my gynecologist, hoping maybe I could be considered an emergency case and I could be seen, just for a checkup and then we could talk about this pelvic pain as well. They had no appointments for two months. I couldn’t even plead my case.
I got more desperate and called the physiotherapist/gyno-urologist who treated me for prolapse. They aren’t accepting patients for three months. I was stuck.
So, after dropping my kiddo off at art class, I headed to urgent care.
I was eleventh in line. One cut finger. One kid with a bead stuck in his ear. One woman experiencing dizziness. The rest I can’t remember. I felt like I didn’t really need to be there, but that nurse who told me I should be seen “within 24 hours” had me panicked. And that phrase sends up red flags all over my brain. What needs to be seen in 24 hours? Nothing good! I thought it was a UTI. I thought it was prolapse. Sitting in the urgent care waiting room made me think about other things: cancer being one of them, of course.
I talked myself into a funk. I felt like my body was failing me. Or I somehow failed my body. How could I get here, not knowing what was wrong. I am usually in tune with my body and this frustrated me. I was seen in two hours and the doctor ruled out a UTI and prolapse (huzzah). Actually, I had her double check me for prolapse just for my own piece of mind. She suggested I follow up with my primary care physician or a specialist. “Well, I told her, they can't see me for a few weeks to a few months.”
“Well, let's walk you down to the ER for imaging, then,” she replied. WHAT?
I didn’t feel like I needed an ER, but she convinced me that I wouldn’t be seen in a timely manner otherwise, and well, I was already here. The ER was downstairs from this particular urgent care. I was gobsmacked. The suggestion that I use ER for imaging services (and taking up a bed someone who really needed could use) made me very uncomfortable. She could tell and said, “You will have more peace of mind.”
So down I went. I waited maybe 15 minutes for a bed to open up. Then I waited for a doctor to order an ultrasound, then waited 40 minutes for the ultrasound to whir on and a technician to arrive.
While I waited, thoughts flurried around my head. When you are sitting in the ER gown, ass to the wind, wondering what part of your body is going to fail you next and how serious it will be. When you just want answers and the healthcare system has set you up to be anxious about it because there’s no appointments for specialists- you have to wait a month to be seen. When your anger gets the better of you and you cry because that seems stupid and unfair. A specialist is needed in emergency situations. We shouldn’t have to wait for those. So instead, I choose visiting the er for pelvic pain, when I couldn’t get an appt with a specialist and I needed to be seen “within 24 hours.” The situation I was in made me think that the emergency room was normalized healthcare. It even seemed like the nurse and doctor I spoke with agreed. They shrugged and said, “well, if you are here and you can’t get in to see a specialist, what choice do you have?”
My ultrasound tech was amazing. You know how they are supposed to be stoic and not let you know anything they are looking at, well this one showed me everything! She guessed what my pain was. She guessed it was the type of cyst that forms on your ovary when the egg is released and it sometimes causes pelvic pain. Apparently, it was the perfect timing for that in my cycle. I couldn’t wait for her to get to the ovary to confirm – I knew she would tell me. She even let me hear the blood flow to the cyst that she found. We ended up discussing everything from menopause to keto diets, breast cancer and infertility. She said there was nothing you do for this type of cyst as it should be reabsorbed by your body. She put me at such ease.
I was released by the doctor after he told me that it was a Corpus Luteal Cyst (Corpus Luteum Cyst: Causes, Symptoms & Treatment (clevelandclinic.org)). While he couldn’t tell me why this caused pain this month and hasn’t before, he assured me that there was nothing really wrong with me – no fibroids, no cancer showed up in bloodwork or imaging, and that I could follow up with my primary care doctor, but there’s nothing that is done for this type of cyst.
After seven hours, I left feeling relieved yet completely deflated. While nothing huge was wrong with me, I still had this dull pelvic pain, unlike any pain I have had before.
As I followed up in the next days with my primary care team, they didn’t assure me. They said if the pain isn’t getting better, I could be seen. I question what more they could do for me since I had all the bloodwork and imaging done. I kind of gave up. I will live with the pain for the next few weeks to see if it changes or gets worse, but I am feeling like there aren’t any people in my healthcare corner. No one is digging for answers. No one is up with me at night pondering what could cause pain.
My husband’s guess is that I’m just getting older. And after the initial eyeroll of disgust, I am kind of thinking that as well. My parts are getting more worn, pain feels different and it takes longer to recover from muscle strain, illness, etc. Maybe that’s it.
I made an appointment for all the specialists I could at their first availability. So
, in a few months. In the meantime, however, if something is wrong, I supposed I will just head back to the ER…..
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