That’s What She Said
I had surgery two days ago. Because my own damn uterus was trying to kill me.
Remember my previous post titled “True Blood”? Feel free to go back and read (or listen) to that post but I’ll recap.
I learned I was severely anemic from IAAF doctors who alerted me to the downward trend
I started taking iron supplements that (unbeknownst to me) didn’t work-weren’t absorbed by my body.
I went to the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs to get my ankles treated and collapsed at reception.
The collapse triggered a hospital visit that confirmed my severe anemia but revealed extensive blood loss. I had a hemoglobin level of 9 when it should be 15.
Doctor’s wondered where the blood went, I explained it was from heavy periods.
I received the first of many iron infusions.
I felt GREAT after my first iron infusion, time passed and I started to feel lethargic again and scheduled another. I informed the doctors at the training center that the bleeding still wasn’t under control. That the iron infusions were nice but pointless since I’m giving it all back through the blood loss.
I started continuous birth control to skip my uncontrollable menstrual cycle. But the introduction of BC only seemed to make my cycles even heavier and unpredictable.
I started training again. After all, I am the reigning Olympic Champion it’s kind of an important year. And you know me, I work hard. But things took a turn...
My muscles were fatiguing during the WARM UP!
Like WTF? I couldn’t even jog 200 meters continuously (I was hiding this by going into a skip when I couldn’t jog anymore)
I was awake all night kept up by restless leg syndrome and my abdomen cramping horribly.
I would cry at night too. Sometimes silently, sometimes loud angry sobs. Tired from the training, tired from not sleeping, tired of hurting, tired of being tired, tired of nobody really knowing.
Chuck went to Las Vegas for the Coaches’ Summit and talked to a woman named Jessica who was heading up the Elite Athlete Health program. He, very aware of my misery, was able to secure an appointment for me back at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, on the agenda was more blood work, another iron infusion and a sit down with Dr. Dustin and Dr. Harrall.
In Dr. Dustin’s office I explained how bad I was feeling. He ordered additional tests. I walked over to the hospital and got my lab work done.
I spent the rest of the day doing biomechanical tests to complete my Elite Athlete Health Profile. And surprisingly still tested extremely well.
The next morning I got my iron infusion. My flight was scheduled for that afternoon. I was meant to head to the airport after meeting with the Docs.
My ferratin level was 5.
It should be between 40-100.
My hemoglobin had decreased to 6.6 down from 9 in August.
It should be 15.
At this point the doctors are talking about iron infusions, AND blood transfusions, and moving quickly to figure out the source of the bleeding.
Rebecca changed my flight.
Diamond booked me an appointment with an OB/GYN, Dr. Charles Lalonde for the following morning.
Dr. Harrall, whom I could tell was hurting for me, prescribed me some sleep medication and a high dosage NSAID. He said he wanted to help me fill my depleted “sleep bank.”
I went to bed that night hopeful, that it would be my last sleepless pain filled night and that maybe by tomorrow afternoon I’d have some answers.
Dr. Lalonde saw me at his office in the morning. We did the usual rudimentary exams. He did some shuffling to get me a transvaginal ultrasound. After the ultrasound I’d go back to the Training Center grab my stuff and head to the airport.
.
.
.
I’m back on the table now in the ultra sound room.
The grainy black and white picture is displayed on a monitor mounted on a wall in front of me.
If I didn’t already know I wasn’t pregnant I would have been alarmed.
Because there was something there.
Occupying a large area of my uterus.
A fibroid tumor.
Dr. Lalonde was watching over the ultrasound technicians shoulder. He knew what it was immediately and left the room. Leaving me and the technician alone.
“So, it’s a girl?” I said. Dead serious breaking the silence. The technician laughed. I laughed.
She finished taking pictures (of which I have copies as if I’m a mommy-to-be). And she escorted me to Dr. Lalonde’s office.
He was one the phone when I entered the room, “I need the OR today at 5pm for 45 minutes...”
He acknowledged my presence and covered the mouthpiece of the phone to address me, “we need to take that out today can you change your flight?”
I said of course, that this was important. He told me I should expect to stay in Colorado until Monday. It’s Thursday.
It was an emergency, the blood loss was too much, too fast. And this fibroid was the cause.
We discussed blood transfusions again and I explained to him the anti-doping rules and the TUE process.
He said he was concerned about me exsanguinating if we didn’t do the surgery in a few hours and that my brain and my heart would slowly cease to function especially if I continued to train at the level I do.
Additionally, he was concerned that if he did do the surgery today and I lost a lot of blood during the procedure a transfusion would be life-saving for me.
I told him that in that scenario I would be cleared of any doping violations as long as the proper documents were in order.
He stood, I stood, he patted me on the shoulder and said, “see you at 5”
It’s a surreal feeling when you’ve been battling something (seen and/or unseen) and you can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
When I arrived here in Colorado Springs I told my medical team that I was going to retire if I left here without answers, because I couldn’t go another day trying to manage high-level training, constantly unpredictable bleeding, no iron, no sleep.
I couldn’t do it anymore.
I didn’t want to.
I was exhausted physically and mentally.
But I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. I laid down under a heating pad and blankets in the Athlete Recovery Center, made calls to my loved ones, and rode the gentle waves of hope until it was time to return to the hospital for pre-surgery.
In the particular silence of hospitals I was able to reflect on these issues. All of which I’m suffering because I’m biologically female.
Because I have a uterus.
Uterus ➡️ Fibroid Tumor ➡️ Incessant Bleeding ➡️ Dangerous Blood Loss ➡️severe Anemia ➡️fatigue and low energy levels ➡️training and performance affected ➡️impeded ability to recover.
But ‘tis the season to celebrate mommyhood and how incredible it is to have a baby and return to training, and to return to competition, and to win medals.
What strength. What dedication.
We need to celebrate that, support that, protect that from reductions from sponsors.
The future is female.
These are wonder women.
These are my colleagues. I actually can’t think of a colleague from my class (at the time of this writing) that I’ve been on multiple teams or podiums with that isn’t a parent now.
And juggling motherhood and a professional athletic career is amazing, because I know that if I had a little mini-me I wouldn’t return to the track. Not because I couldn’t...I just wouldn’t.
So I applaud them.
But there is more to womanhood than motherhood.
I nearly retired from track and field the week following the Thanksgiving holiday.
Because I’m female.
I said the words “I’m thinking about retirement” ...out loud.
To US Olympic Committee staff. Which means I was dead ass serious.
It is absolutely wonderful to be a biological female, to have the ability to create and carry new life, etc.
It also can absolutely suck to be biologically female, and deal with menstrual cycles monthly, unplanned pregnancies that may or may not disrupt other life plans, Entire careers, hormone imbalances that can take you from babe to bitch in a matter of hours.
But what this situation has shown me, having suffered (largely unaware for two years) was that I am still proud of who I am. The woman that I am.
I now know that I would chose to be a healthy woman over an elite athlete pursuing medals.
And I honestly didn’t know that I would choose that for sure until Dr. Lalonde asked me straight up.
He asked me if I would seriously not accept a transfusion because of the possibility of a ban.
I only had to think about it for a moment.
I said, “I would accept the transfusion, accept the ban, and retire.” I went on to say, “I have three Olympic gold medals, three world championship gold medals, three world bronze medals, a world record and countless other little accolades. I don’t feel as if anything is unfinished or undone. I am tired, I want to feel well, I want to feel like I have the energy to do the things I want to do, and I do not- and have not for a long time. I’m tired of forcing myself to do- when I can’t, and to keep pushing when I shouldn’t. I am okay with being done, because I want my life.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, he said, and I’m sure your mom would be happy to hear this too.”
My mom.
That’s another amazing thing that came of this, my mother.
My mother has gone through the same thing, with the exception that when she did it the recommendation was a hysterectomy-which she got. She held my hand from afar the entire time I had to process this information on my own. She didn’t pepper me with questions but with assurances, and she was the reason I was okay going into surgery solo, and recovering solo. A few years ago I would have not thought this type of connection was possible. So I’m grateful that as painful as this has been for me physically it was an opportunity to bind us.
And even though there’s more to womanhood than motherhood I had to make another decision I didn’t think I would make that day either.
With a surgery like this one, the surgeon typically burns the lining of the uterus so that the fibroids don’t reoccur. But, doing so would make me infertile. Not doing so would mean that at some point these fibroid tumors will grow again (especially since it’s hereditary for me).
But I chose not to have the lining burned.
Which I guess is me potentially choosing motherhood and this painful experience again...at some point.
So what’s my point...
Women are strong not just because we are able to have and raise children while managing a bunch of other things.
But because we deal with things like:
endometriosis
uterine fibroids
gynecological cancers
polycystic ovary syndrome
The list goes on…
And we deal with them largely in silence and still show up. For our jobs, for our loved ones, for whatever.
And there’s no registry, celebration, paid leave, or salary protections for this but we get up, we go to work, we go to the track, we go to the gym, we see clients, we change lives.
Even as our own drains from us like Essence in Jim Henson’s Dark Crystal.
Every single female, mommy or not should be acknowledged and celebrated for all the behind the scene things we deal with just for being female.
Because remember:
A Man does what he can; a woman does what a man cannot.
~Isabel Allende, Inés of my Soul
Bloggers Note: Every female reader of mine that does not have a gynecologist right now please start your search for one. Every female reader that has one but hasn’t been for a while, please schedule an appointment. Also, my downtime is just 3 weeks. I fully intend to pop up now and then at a few indoor meets. And I’ll for damn sure be ready for the trials. Can you imagine? TB with enough blood, iron, and energy!? Look out world.