My body and my dreams are infinitely wise. They patiently send me signals that I mostly ignore, but sometimes, on my better days, I listen. Now I plan on making it a regular practice to humbly and respectfully listen to what they have to say.
I've had intense dreams, many of them including disintegration, dismemberment, bloody animals, knives, and things lurking in the shadows, since January. It was apparent these dreams were telling me something, but I wasn't sure what. And I never wanted to entertain the idea that they were about my health.
I've also had a twinge in the left side of my pelvis for probably two years. At first it was tiny and I dubbed it my intuitive twinge...many times when something was not quite right, this area would twinge and I'd thank it for its message, a message that usually saved me headache.
However, for about the last six months, that twinge morphed into pain. The pain became debilitating during my period, something that only a few people knew about, and only my husband had witnessed until last weekend. A friend came over on Sunday and saw me in my pitiful condition. I was weak, barely able to stand up to walk her to the door. When I saw her reaction to my state, I knew it was time to go to the doctor.
I'd recently been given the name of a gynecologist by another friend and on Monday, I made the call. They got me in yesterday.
I have to back up a moment and tell you that I've been avoiding gynecologists for years because of trauma suffered during previous gynecologist visits. I had a male gynecologist make derogatory comments about my body when I was a teenager and a female gynecologist do a rectal exam without telling me first. A third gynecologist failed to help me with recurring yeast infections. I gave up on Western doctors at that point. So, although this twinge became more and more persistent, I ignored it, hoping it would go away so I didn't have to deal with the gynecologist. Also, I didn't want to deal with bad news.
Back to yesterday. I visited the capable and friendly doctor. I explained my symptoms. She gave me a pelvic exam and then brought out the ultrasound machine. And that's when she found a 6" cyst attached to my left ovary.
I began to cry. I cried because I was scared, overwhelmed, upset, and I felt guilty for not coming in sooner. She told me I need surgery. It is a complex cyst, both fluid and solid, and although she thinks there is a tiny chance it is cancerous, she has to make sure. It has to come out or it will continue to grow and cause me more pain.
When I left the office, I called Lance in tears. I've moved past the guilt and the intense fear, and I've come to a better place thanks to many phone calls and conversations with friends. I know that I'm going to be okay. It's laparoscopic surgery so it's minor, outpatient, and minimally invasive. The recovery typically only takes a week. And after that, my greatest wish is that my periods will no longer cause me debilitating pain.
As part of my process, I've thought about this growth on a symbolic level. I believe, because it is a complex cyst made of fluid and solid mass, that it holds two things: my creative/feminine self and the trauma I've accumulated over the years. The fluid is the creativity, the solid mass the trauma. Once it is removed, I will have truly given birth to my beautiful creative feminine side and I will have removed the trauma holding me back.
I know it is important is to work with this on an energetic level as well. I plan on exploring therapy, dreamwork, psychic healing, and visualization techniques during the three weeks until I go to surgery. And I'm also going to hold a ritual for the energy of the cyst to honor the wisdom it is bringing me. Everything happens for a reason, and my body created this to send me a message. I plan to deeply explore what that is so I can learn from it and move on.
It's going to be quite a rebirth. And, like any rebirth, it is scary, dark, and risky. But once I come out the other side, I will have new gifts and wisdom to share.