Part 4: Feeling better and finding answers

Let me start with the fact that I am feeling loads better than I was last week. I feel like a human being again. So, thanks for everyone who prayed, helped, brought a meal, etc.

Here's the latest: About a week into my medication, I discovered that I was becoming more sick because of the side effects from the meds. I couldn't separate what the meds were doing to me and what my ovarian mass was doing to me. So, I decided to make another appointment before my "final" follow-up appointment. This time I saw a new doctor. She was well aware of my case (since all the OB dr.'s at Chapel Hill were talking about me), she was informative, sensitive, personable, and kind. She was the one to finally lead me to some answers. As she explained that "all her patients on this specific medication feel horrible," I immediately felt some relief. "Oh, it's not just me."

She went on to explain my condition and used the term TOA. I stopped her.
"What's a TOA?" (me)
"A tubo-ovarian abscess. Basically, some kind of infection gets into your ovary and fluid starts to collect, swelling and creating serious pain and all the symptoms that you've experienced." (her)

This was the first time in this journey that I had ever heard a label for my condition. (I thought I was relieved, until I came home and researched TOAs. The internet can be a very scary thing.) I left that appointment with directions to finish my medications and come back in one week to get cleared for India (since at that point we were leaving in 14 days...which is now, seven!).

Like I said, I came home and researched my condition and discovered so many scary facts. I learned things that didn't really make sense (for me) and understood better why the doctors were so confused. I am not a typical candidate for this and they have no idea how it happened, nor do I. Either way, here's some research that has been done on patients with TOA's:
-It almost always needs surgery to be resolved (which I haven't had yet)
-It can come back after you finish your medication (great)
-TOAs are severe enough that if not treated quickly, they can result in death (whoa)
-(And here's the kicker) Traditionally, pregnancy rates after a TOA are less than 15%

LESS THAN 15%. Guys, this news hit me hard. I want to have more babies, and now I'm looking at less than a 15% chance of that happening?

I was devastated. And then I got off my computer and opened my devotional and read this:
"My dear believer, you must totally trust the Lord in everything and concerning everything...Some have only learned to trust the smile of His face, but they must also learn to trust the blows of His fist...Did not one of old say, 'Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him'? (Job 13:15)"

I suddenly saw so much grace. Grace, that I didn't know these facts at the beginning, because it would have terrified me. Grace, that God chose to give me this ailment to bring me closer to Him. Grace, that He is healing me without surgery. Grace, that I still WANT to praise Him in the midst of this all. Grace upon grace.

The bad news about my TOA, however, didn't end there. But neither did the grace. Monday was my final appointment before India. I saw the same dr. mentioned above and she once again, informed me well. Upon seeing the ultrasound, she explained that the infection site was decreasing in size and healing, but that I had ANOTHER cyst now on my left ovary. She assured me this cyst looked "normal" and was probably due to the fact that I hadn't had a normal period for eight weeks, or the duration of my TOA. Then she answered all my questions and said, "I see no reason for you not to travel." Excited that I could go to India, but stressed that I had another cyst, I grabbed my stuff and prepared to leave the hospital. On my way out, I peeked my head into my Dr.'s office and thanked her for being my "favorite"--one who was most informative, caring, personable, and just plain good at her job. She started to cry and got up from her desk to hug me. I left encouraged. I called my mom when I got home and informed her of my appointment and the good (and bad) news. Not even 10 minutes after I ended my call with her, she called me back. Bad news again--my grandpa just died.

So, here I was, still recovering from this serious illness, with news of another cyst, and now my grandpa dies and I  don't know if I can go home for the funeral because I leave for India in a week and my body is still not 100%. I went upstairs and cried my eyes out and just prayed for, what felt like, a really long time. "Though you slay me, yet I will praise you. Though you take from me, I will bless your name. Though you ruin me, still I will worship."--Those words just kept repeating in my heart and head. I was so at peace.

God is at work. He is kind enough to rip things from me so that I would look to Him for strength and not myself. He's teaching me that He alone is enough. He alone is worthy. He alone cannot be taken from me. My heart and flesh may fail, but no, my God, my God never fails.

"At the very worst, our gospel is better than the world at its best." --Charles Spurgeon