Zero Optional Equipment.

Hello…so I’ve been gone for a minute.

Probably the longest minute I’ve been gone in the 13 years I’ve been writing here (an anniversary that passed during my absence. Happy anniversary, self!)


So you remember last fall when I introduced you to Karen Walker

She was my special friend, that lovely ovarian cyst that was responsible for all things horrible and terrible in my August and September.

Yeah, well, so Karen didn’t exactly appreciate me talking about her behind her little cysty back….So for every month following that post (with the glorious exception of October), she sent a new cyst friend (or two) for me to meet, bringing various and horrible issues along with it.

And finally, after more sonograms than I received when I was pregnant and a Gynecologist change (I went back to the practice from which I wandered when, right after performing my hysterectomy, my doctor fled to Africa. Did you follow that? The main takeaway is that I scare doctors to the other side of the world), in mid-January, I finally had surgery to remove whatever iteration of Karen was with me at the time.

But, since the doctor was in there, he decided to do an extraordinarily deep Spring Clean to make sure there was NOTHING left that could EVER go bad again.

And, seeing as I’ve already had to have my tonsils, uterus, gall bladder, and even a foot bone removed, I didn’t fault him for his preemptive strike at all of my remaining optional features, leaving me as a stripped down DX model with crank windows and a stick shift. I’m not even sure if I have power steering anymore.

He removed…
– My right ovary (leaving only my left ovary to tote the hormonal load, whom Chris has named “Elizabeth Alexandra Mary, officially Elizabeth II, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Rachel and of her other realms and territories Queen, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith” – no pressure, lefty),
– The current ovarian cyst, Karen Walker 4.0,
– My appendix (which was apparently inflamed and irritable – probably because she thought Karen was the worst as well),
– Leftover scar tissue from two c-sections and a hysterectomy,
– Endometriosis I didn’t know I had (which was probably looking for its Mommy, my uterus, and crying in a corner because she was already gone),
– A few bits and pieces of things he found here and there that he didn’t like the look of.

So the right side of my body is an empty shell. An unfinished basement. An Easter Bunny that you thought was solid but made you cry because it was very, very hollow.

I’ve now had nine lifetime surgeries, so my CARFAX isn’t great. Fortunately, Chris and I are celebrating our twentieth anniversary in a couple of months (though we’ve already begun because why not have a Twentieth Anniversary Season), and he shows no signs of wanting to trade me in.

This week I’ve started to get my energy back, and I’m seeing improvements over my pre-surgery time spent with Karen. So I think it’s about time to plan her belated goodbye party.

… I needed to wait until she couldn’t be invited.

But we’ll be sure to celebrate Her Majesty Lefty’s ascension to the throne.