DOC #3 - The Holy Spirit

I've got to say in retrospect, everything happened perfectly. If the,... (I really can't think of anything to call him that doesn't involve an explective) doctor hadn't sent me rushing in horror to well-intentioned OB/GYN#1 (let's call her "the father" - the original creator of my fibroid care), who's contradicting nurses hadn't sent me to Doc#2-radiologist extraordinaire ("the son" who was the first doctor to actually interact with the vampire), I would have never found Doc#3 ("the holy ghost" who transcends the physical and takes your spirit with her). I won't take the metaphor to far yet, because our first few months together were pretty profound on their own.

Doc#2 had given her my charts, so she knew a bit what was going on -- or at least what HAD been going on. No one could figure out why I was still in pain. She asked the pointed question about why I hadn't gotten the hysterectomy. She prefaced it actually -- "I know you are a little bit to young to have to answer this question". WOW, I thought, she realizes this, it is obvious that I want my uterus just because I'm not old enough not to want it's hormonal influence, to need its contribution to my body as a well built machine -- each organ playing its part. Yes, I told her I wasn't ready to give up on more children. Yes, I told her, I want the long term health benefits. But, and with emphasis I stated without apology, or blinking an eye "I believe in uterine orgasm, I HAVE uterine orgasm, even now. I intend to be 80 and still having uterine orgasms... Pretty hard without a fricking uterus". She smiled. She giggled. She respected it. I had found my OB/GYN. At last. We finally got to consider this in the context of my sexuality, my spirit, my overall health, not just the health of my physical machine.

AND SEX! Can we talk about sex, because no one else did until Doc#3. Candid discussion. And not just about the mechanics of having sex with this thing, but the emotional concerns, the paranoid fantasies, the straightforward mechanics of it. I began to journal and realized that sex both triggered my pain and relieved it, depending on the timing, on my level of wanting the sex, on my exhaustion level, on the position. Her advice was concrete and usable and helpful and respectful. Which is good because sex is an emotional mire, and I would have had absolutley none of it if I hadn't been able to figure out how it was going to work, with her, and had the patient loving partner, who thank you very much, was not interested in long term sexlessness for either of us. He demanded I have a quality of life. A full life. That means sex.

And we soldiered on... and things got better and worse and better. Then one day... they nearly became tragic.