RMSHEPARD1's Journey with Endometrial (Uterine) Cancer

Survivor: Endometrial (Uterine) Cancer

Patient Info: Finished active treatment more than 5 years ago, Female, Age: 36

  1. 1
    • RMSHEPARD1
    • Experience with Endometrial (Uterin...
    almost 5 years ago
    RMSHEPARD1's Avatar

    Relationship issues

    Oh No

    My ex boyfriend tried to kill me two weeks before I was diagnosed. They thought I was hemmoraging because of how badly I was beaten up. My parents found out I was living with him before marriage and refused to help me or speak to me on religious principles.

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  2. 2
    • RMSHEPARD1
    • Experience with Endometrial (Uterin...
    almost 5 years ago
    RMSHEPARD1's Avatar

    Surgery

    Procedure or Surgery

    I was 25 and had been raised with two goals in life. As a woman my mission was to marry a christian man and have lots of christian babies. My parents are still upset about my relationship choices. After my hysterectomy at 25 I am no longer capable of giving them grandchildren. I'm a failure as a daughter, wife and would be mother. I have found new ways to make my contribution to the world after I am dead, as a mechanical engineer I will be building and making things that will hopefully still leave the world as a better place. My Thyroid had tumors on it that had to be removed a month after my hysterectomy. The doctors tore my body apart and one three months afterward released me back to work like nothing had happened. Nothing will ever be the same. I have huge ugly scars. My thyroid hormones took 3 years to balance out synthetically. I suffered major depression and 4 suicide attempts while my brain went on a shock, and trauma, and chemically unbalanced journey all its own.

    Went as Expected: Agree
    Minimal Recovery: Disagree
    Minimal Side Effects: Disagree
    Minimal Impact to Daily Life: Strongly Disagree
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  3. 3
    • RMSHEPARD1
    • Experience with Endometrial (Uterin...
    almost 5 years ago
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    Whether I should have surgery or radiation?

    Decision Point

    I was asked whether I wanted my body mutilated or poisoned slowly. The surgery was a more certain route they said and I opted for that. I will carry the scars of that decision forever.

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  4. 4
    • RMSHEPARD1
    • Experience with Endometrial (Uterin...
    almost 5 years ago
    RMSHEPARD1's Avatar

    Diagnosed

    Oh No

    I had been working at GKN for about 2 years. I had Mike and Jerry and another lady who I think her name was Cathy as my best friends from the smokers table at my work. I was waiting to make my appointment because I wasn't supposed to be bleeding when I went for my first check up because they can't examine you while your bleeding. I had been having heavy flow problems since I can remember, since I started my period at 10. I had medical insurance and I knew it was past time for a checkup. I tried repeatedly to explain to different women who were close to me that I thought something was wrong at several different times. I got varied reactions but for the most part everyone claimed that her periods were always way way way worse than mine and I shouldn't complain so much. I had repeated "bleed through" days. A dozen times I had to go home from work or school because I bled through. That last year I had left work numerous time because I couldn't get more than 15 feet from the bathroom without soaking through another pad. I had a few different smaller purses inside my bigger purse that all contained a variety of pads and tampons. The last few months before the final checkup I remember two incidents where I woke up covered in blood and had to run for the bathroom. One of these times I sat on the toilet for two hours with a constant flow of blood pouring from my body. I tried a hot bath to stop the flow and ended up in a tub full of perfumed soap and red water. The water was so bloody I couldn't see the bottom of the tub. That is one of many memories that haunt my worst nightmares. It wasn't the last time I laid in a pile of my own blood. It was just the beginning. If I had known that I would have been happy to bleed to death then and there. I thought the doctors could help. Silly me. I went to a gyno appointment on a lucky day when I had thought I'd stopped bleeding. That was my first day of no blood in two months. I later learned that my suffering was technically repeated hemmorages that God, in his infinite sense of humor, kept me from dying of. I've heard different medical information since then but one of the doctors at an ER told me my white cell count was two. I had lost almost all the color in my face and lips. Even my nipples were almost the same shade as the rest of my breasts. To say I was scared of what the doctors would tell me would be an understatement of epic proportions. They messed up the first biopsey they took. They said the growth wasn't cancerous but that they were going to take another sample just to check. I had been given a ride to the first appointment by a woman I worked with named Debbie. She was also giving a ride to two men from my work named Mike and Jerry. I had been asking around where the address was at in El Cajon. I just wanted directions to get there on the bus, but Debbie insisted that it was too far and she could take me. She dropped me off at a small medical office building. She insisted on giving me her phone number so I could call her if I needed a ride back. I took the number thinking I would never use it. I've been a pretty independant person for most of my life. Close friends and even close family members are a rarity for me. I went to the office and checked in to wait for my appointment, I was still praying I wouldn't start to bleed at the last minute and have to leave. I made it to see the doctor, the nurse checked me in and weighed me and took my blood pressure. I remember her mentioning that my blood pressure was entirely normal and healthy even though I smoked cigarettes. She gave me a gown and I changed and waited for the doctor. I don't know what it is. About some doctors not wanting to make eye contact, I guess if I was about to examine a person in that way I wouldn't be cool about it either. She came in and started asking me her questions about pregnancy and drug use and sexual partners. I answered her questions and tried to explain about my heavy blood flow problems, she sighed like a martyr I remember, and told me to lay back and hold my questions till she was through with her examination. The rest of the visit is so clear in my mindthat I can't stand it sometimes. They have a little spreader bar just like I use at work sometimes. Since I work in aerospace I use my tools on a much larger scale and I remember thinking it was funny. She looked inside my body, squinched up her face and grabbed her flash light. I had a sudden vision of a prospector on a Looney Toons Cartoon. She said, "What the XXX?" And poked at me with her little wire brush before I could stop her. I found out later that she had dislodged a blood clot with her brush. The clot had formed around the cancerous growth at the base of my uterus, withh the clot blocking y cervix and the hemmorage continuing internally, I popped like a blood filled water balloon. Like I said, not many people survive hearing the splash of their own blood, tthis was the first time I heard it but not the last. This was the first time the poor doctor had heard it apparently, she ran out of the room, down the hall, through the double doors and I could hear her screaming from theere, " call an ambulance! I need an iv and an oxygen mask in. Room 4 STAT!" I'd also never heard a doctor use the word STAT before. I remember thinking , oh so that's not just in movies, before 6 people came rushing into the room where I lay, naked and bleeding. Looking back on the experience I have to say that I don't think it was the best day on the job for any of these medical professionals. It was like the three stooges do a triage. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as I remember, but three things were happening at once and I was feeling mildley detached. One woman was on my left trying to insert an iv in my arm. Two gentlemen were at my bottom shall we. Say, attempting to fit me with an adult diaper of some kind. It wasn't big enough. I felt slightly affronted that not only did these young men. Fail to properly introduce themselves before handling my delicate bits, but now they. Were stateing that I was too fat for the biggest diaper they had. Talk about rude! Hehe. Their attempts to shove my dying carcass into the padding. Mess they were making, repeatedly dislodged the attempts of poor little miss iv to my right. She had to jab me 6 times. Meanwhile, during all this activity the woman on my left had forgotten completely how to operate. A blood pressure cuff. This began to unnerve me as she began shouting that she had forgotten how to do it repeatedly and had to be forced to leave the room. That is when the mole lady and the original doctor reentered the excitement. The original doctor took over from the flakey blood pressure cuff lady and miss mole came to my head and began stroking my hair and attempting to calm me. I didn't feel that this was necessary, but I was in shock so what did I know? I remember thinking that they definitely got the wrong woman to calm me since she had an exceptionallly large mole about the size of a dime that was just a little off center on her forhead. I remember thinking that it. Gave her character but wishing that she could have it moved just slightly to her right. They panicked still further, as a group when the doctor announced that I was in danger of going into cardiac arrest if my blood pressure didn't slow down. I didn't feel really different but that's what shock is really for I suppose. That way you're calm as you die. The paramedics arrived and I was tranferred quicckly to the ambulance. I know now that the emergency medical personell are much better at calming patients than a handful of gynocologists and dermatologists. Maybe they need more training in standard offices. I don't know. I scared the bejesus out of everbody except for emergency personell from that day to this.

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