Wednesday, September 4, 2013

No Womb For Disagreement


Considering how long we've been together, I don't really know all that much about my uterus. I take it on faith that I have one, and I know where it's located, but I can't say that I know it like the back of my hand, which is speckled and knobbly. It's reputed to be like a little purse, but it's stretchy, and capable of great things if pressed upon by a fetus, say, or a fibroid tumor, which resemble each other in the early stages. Mostly, it's like everything else in my body. I don't pay much attention to it unless something goes wrong. And I'm one of the lucky ones for whom nothing much goes wrong. I'm nominally in charge of everything in my body, but I'm not the president or anything, or the social director, or the camp counselor. I expect everybody to entertain themselves and play nice. I'm more like the facilities manager, responsible for keeping the heat on and some minor janitorial duties.

We're supposed to be proud of our uteri, as if we'd sculpted them ourselves, but I'm not. It's a badge of womanhood, but I don't identify so strongly with my sex as to consider it a matter of honor to have all the parts. Not that I identify with the other sex either, or any of the in-between models; it's just that it could have gone either way so easily, if a different sperm had edged out the winner. I could just as easily have had completely different paraphernalia, and that would have been fine too. It might even have been a lot of fun, although it seems to involve a lot of unsightly flopping around, and as the facilities manager I would have had to contend with some rogue outfit hanging out in the front parking lot and operating outside of my authority.

The Facility. Photo by Doug Bloem
So I'm okay with having a lot of equipment that remains mysterious and unseen as long as everything is going right. I know where my uterus empties out, but I'm a little unclear how it is hooked up, and to what. Seems like everything is just sort of bobbing around up there and only maintains its position because it's crowded and there's no place to wander off to. It might want to push to the front of the parade route and watch things go by, but it's kind of stuck. Of course, sometimes they do come unhooked. Some women discover that their uterus is hanging right outside them, inside-out. This is called a "prolapsed" uterus because there it is, in your lap. It's not ideal. If you're a girl, and there's something hanging between your legs, something has gone wrong.

Every now and then, though, I get to thinking that even though nothing has gone wrong, I should be paying more attention to my uterus, especially since so many other nice people want to help me manage it, mostly Republicans. They're, like, experts on the subject of my uterus. They know all sorts of things about it.

They want to make sure that whoever gets past the velvet rope in my facility should be allowed to party until they're good and ready to leave, even if they're tearing up the curtains and smashing furniture. Even if they burn the place down. And that I must be compelled to let them play and clean up afterwards. They don't care how much it costs or what kind of toll it takes. I don't know. They seem like well-intentioned people, but you know what? It's my facility.

36 comments:

  1. "unsightly flopping around"
    Now I'm thinking of volleyball matches at nudist camps. Not that I've ever been to one or even seen one on TV, but I can certainly imagine the flopping around bits and boobs.
    My own uterus didn't play nice, so I had it removed from the facility.

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    1. Just the image of naked volleyball makes me want to veer toward bocce ball. Or checkers.

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  2. You are my hero.
    I also get the huffs that it doesn't matter how things get past that velvet rope in your facility they should be allowed to stay there. Room and board provided. All costs met by the facility owner - including the removal costs when they do decide it is time.

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    1. It's not that we don't want to be gracious. Just not all the time.

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  3. "...so many other nice people want to help me manage it, mostly Republicans." I'm not sure about the "nice" part, but they sure are intent about the managing part, aren't they? It's as if once they get elected, they get issued little miner's lights and think they need to go spelunking all up in our lady parts.

    I'm with you. It's my facility and they can just leave off with the micro-management, thank you very much. And I don't think they are well-intentioned at all.

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    1. I figure some of them are well-intentioned, and the rest are polishing up the re-election machine, and/or are simply assholes.

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  4. I've never met my uterus either. It must be playing nice inside with its friends, since it doesn't give me any problems. My mother got hers out and was surprised to learn I still had mine. She said she didn't like to have things hanging around that she didn't use any more. :-)

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    1. Come to think of it, my mom did too. I don't know why. I still have my tonsils, too, in case anyone's interested. That's rare for a Lady Of My Age.

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  5. I could've written this.

    I SHOULD've written this.

    Dammit, Murr.

    Pearl

    p.s. Sharing.

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    1. You can go right ahead and steal it if you want!

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  6. I've never met my uterus either. In fact, I don't even WANT one! I will be very happy when the day comes when I can have it removed forever.

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    1. It's always the hardest to lose those last five pounds.

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  7. Funny, true, and the Murr sign is awesome!

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  8. I don't have a uterus. Should I be envious?

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  9. The problem with having that party in your uterus is that the Republicans don't want you to be able to clean up *completely* afterwards, if you know what I mean.

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  10. I used to have a uterus. It was more trouble than it was worth. The republicans can do what they like with it if they can find it.

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    1. Stick stuff in it and see what comes out?

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  11. Why not a wiener?
    I like this one.
    I, too, wonder about the attachments. Like, how can you have a hysterectomy but retain your ovaries? What do they have to hang onto then? It's like saying, "We're going to have to amputate your arm, but you can keep your elbow."
    I am deeply suspicious of removing any ladyparts, because I have a theory that each one is responsible for secreting something or other that makes us who we are.

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    1. That's exactly how I feel about ovaries. I keep wondering if they have to constantly tread water in there once they've come unmoored. Flap flap flap.

      I'm afraid I'm not excreting much of anything anymore. I'm not complaining though.

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  12. I kept my ovaries since they were untouched by whatever was going on with the uterus, they simply stayed where they were and I forgot about them.

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    1. So did I. Age 44 (fibroids) and natural menopause 10 years later.

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  13. HA! A facility manager with some simple janitorial duties!! I love that.

    I feel obliged to put on my nursing cap and clear some things up for those of you mystified as to how the ovaries stay put after a hysterectomy. In the simplest terms, the surgeon sutures the ovarian ligaments to the vaginal cuff. He/she also sutures the vaginal cuff to the uterosacral cardinal ligament. If you want to know the whole story (via vaginal hysterectomy) you can go here: http://www.atlasofpelvicsurgery.com/5Uterus/9TotalVaginalHysterectomy/chap5sec9.html
    BE WARNED!! the link is very detailed and graphic in its description of the actual surgical details. If you're not familiar with your little gal, this is a heck of an introduction!

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    1. So happy you filled us in. I wanted to know. It just seemed like if the little suckers weren't hooked up to something, they could just bob around and get in the way of other things that had jobs to do.

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    2. That's so true. They might get minds of their own and try to take over the pancreas or something!

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  14. I'm in complete agreement here, Murr, though could not have stated it quite so well. I, too, expect everyone to play nice with minimum attention from me. And that whole badge-of-honor-woman-thing? Fugetaboutit. My gender is female. Period. (No pun intended.)

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  15. I used to have one of those but after years of faithful service she's retired to play Bridge with her friends.

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    1. Bridge, after too many years of Poker...

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  16. I had a hysterectomy at age 44 (fibroids). My gynecologist said it was standard procedure to take the ovaries too, thus guaranteeing no possible development of ovarian cancer. I replied that if he took my lungs out I wouldn't get lung cancer either, so he agreed to leave my ovaries in (there was nothing wrong with 'em.) Natural menopause hit me 10 yrs later. I gotta tell ya. The day my uterus left, my vagina took a 6 week rest, and then partied like it was Mardi Gras.

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    1. You didn't HAVE to tell us, but I'm glad you did.

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  17. I had a hysterectomy at age 44 (fibroids). My gynecologist said it was standard procedure to take the ovaries too, thus guaranteeing no possible development of ovarian cancer. I replied that if he took my lungs out I wouldn't get lung cancer either, so he agreed to leave my ovaries in (there was nothing wrong with 'em.) Natural menopause hit me 10 yrs later. I gotta tell ya. The day my uterus left, my vagina took a 6 week rest, and then partied like it was Mardi Gras.

    ReplyDelete