What the hell is that uterus for?

Photo by RDNE Stock project

When I got sick with Brucellosis et al, I did a bunch of tests to show that it was indeed bacterial infections screwing me over. Doctors needed all the proofsss. And even then, some of them- (assholes!)- shrugged at the fact that my spleen was enlarged, and I did have some kidney damage. Those things mean nothing; obviously.

The tests also showed that I had a fibroid in my uterus. 

Good to know, but that wasn’t the current issue I was trying to deal with. Or was it?

I go on and on with feeling ok and then then terrible- almost up and then way back down again; with no real follow up care because I don’t have like a primary care doctor or a cohesive team of specialists looking out for my health and well-being. I’m just fucking winging it- during a pandemic- as you do in third world settings. 

So I had to be the one to get blood work on my own and figure out for myself that I’m anemic. Often. 

And then I start feeling this pressure and pain in my left side. I knew it instantly it was that frelling tumor. 

So I hit up a gynecologist. We see that the fibroid had pretty much doubled in size since last it was seen. The doc tells me just take it all out. Like hey- if that uterus offends, pluck it the fuck on out of there! 

I can keep my ovaries and continue suffering the subtle devastation of hormone fluctuation sensitivity; I’m just not going to have kids in any conventional way. 


It took me years to make this thing inside me and it’s not even treated like a pearl. It’s not precious. It is studied for cancer and thrown away. 

Good for nothing.

How it is that it has so little value? Because it is so common? Because it is a soulless mass of flesh that causes nothing but pain? Yet some of those walk(ed) the earth with names that will be remembered by history…

But this was a thing that I made! And, like that cancer I grew, I don’t even know how I have had the energy and extra materials to make it!

Along with this growth being yeeted, I am having an organ removed. I might be lousy at being a ‘woman’ (whatever that is), but I can’t help but be kind of attached to my organs- even if my relationship with them is complicated. I would enjoy not suffering things every month, but psychologically, I don’t need more parts taken away from me. I don’t need to be made lesser than I already feel I am. 

Numb with endless disappointment

Thoughts about my birthday have barely come to mind this year.

I used to be such a Taurus desiring to celebrate the whole month of May. Celebrate all the lovely Taureans; celebrate May Day; celebrate Beltane; celebrate Star Wars Day; celebrate moms; celebrate Lemuralia, birds, turtles, goths, geeks, composting, limericks, irises, archery, decency, paper airplanes, road trips, paperclips, freedom of the press, coal miners- all the workers, laughing and smiling, tuna, technology, biological diversity…

But now?

The dark is winning. 

Thanks everyone. 

Don’t Look Now! It’sssss –

Just when you think you are getting better-


When you’ve had multiple bacterial strains dipping into your iron stores and you keep on bleeding out every month, it becomes difficult to keep iron-ated.. ferrated… ferreted… ferrets? 

Yeah, I’ve been taking supplements, but, well, taking them unsupervised by a medical professional- and not really knowing if the root cause of the iron deficiency is bacterial or something else. I suspect things, but I don’t know the things. 

It kills me to have to have blood taken to prove iron deficiency. I get the test results back and I’m like, ‘Look at these numbers! I needed that blood! Now I have less! Thanks so much.’

What also kills me is that I think I have been sabotaging myself by taking a fiber supplement. Fiber can interfere with iron absorption. I didn’t know that before. I’ve needed to take fiber because of IBS. One problem’s solution is setting off another problem. 

With my headaches and terrifying body sensations or lack of sensation, my brain gets in anxiety/frustration loops so then I keep having panic attacks. First thing in the morning. Before I am even out of bed. It’s so much fun! 

This morning I would have woken up without a skitter of the heart except some asshat set off a fire work outside. Happy friggin holidays.

But I’m sorting it out. Timing doses better. Feeling some few improvements… again. 

While this has been dragging me down for a few weeks, I’ve set myself the task of reusing sketchbooks and journals that are terrible and making them less-worser with collage interventions. 

Now, I am generally feeling like crap and the lighting in my space in atrocious so I have no delusions that I am breaking ground with this work. 

But whatever. 

Feck it.

So I am reduced to arts and crafts time at the kiddie table. So what?

It’s stupid outside for Easter/ spring break anyway. 

I look at the local news and I see flipped cars on the roads and houses on fire. 

I’ll stay at the kiddie table.