Judy passed away in May of 2003.For at least 14 months I had been trying to tell my internist and ob-gyn something was wrong. I had a tender area on my right side that I would point to and say,"This is where it REALLY hurts". They would press on it and I'd say,"YES, that's It!" and each would always say he couldn't feel anything there. Even when I had the vaginal-rectal exam in December before my surgery in September, the ob-gyn said it felt tight in there, he still didn't seem concerned. I let that slide because he had me onMetamucil ( for the Indigestion!) and since I had to go to the bathroom abut 4 times when I got home, I thought that might account for the tightness. Of course, at the time, I knew nothing about ovarian symptoms. What really made me push to get to the bottom of it in early September -- to see if there truly WAS something going on -- were the following things: 1) The tender area on the right was no longer by itself; the left side had joined it. This tenderness did not hurt unless I pressed on it, or rolled over during the night. Once I became aware of them I would check during the day to see if they were still tender to the touch and they were. When I first noticed the right one, I thought it had something to do with menopause since I was 49. So I kept feeling to see if it had changed.(In June I had sort of blacked out, so I had the test (FSH?)to see if I was menopausal. That showed I was not. 2) In late April of that year, I was in the Pegasus Parade during Derby Week as part of the 15th District PTA's entry celebrating PTA's 100th birthday. We were to wear matching T-shirts and khaki pants. Since I had no khaki pants, I had to buy a pair. I was able to find a nice pair that fit perfectly in every way and even had a little extra room at the waistline, in case I needed it later ( I needed it later, but it wasn't nearly ENOUGH!!) They were size 10. By the end of August, when I tried to include these pants for a trip, they lacked at least 4"coming together at the waistline. I knew my waistline was growing over the summer, but these pants gave me a specific marker. Had I been heavier at the beginning, I might never have noticed this difference. When people would ask me to meet them for lunch during the summer, I'd say, "I probably shouldn't go; I feel I'm getting so fat." (Then I'd still go, but feel a little guilty!) I was usually telling this to my walking partner--we'd meet at 5:30 A.M. for a 3-mile walk. Sometimes I'd meet another friend for a 2-mile walk in the evenings. When I told my internist that I was walking 3-5 miles a day and still gaining, he was quick to tell me how my metabolism could change and he whipped out the sheet that we've all seen telling how much time one must spend on different activities to lose one pound. I told him I understood all that, but still felt something was wrong, because I weighed more than I did when I had my 11-pound baby. His response--"and you're not even going to have anything to show for it this time." I'm proud of myself for not backing down, despite these and other sarcastic, condescending comments. I said I still felt something was wrong. He said "well, if there is something wrong in the area you're indicating, it has to be the bladder, colon or ovaries--that's all that's there. "
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