Slow Part 2

After my tonsillectomy, life became fuzzy. Ok, maybe it was complicated by the fact that I was a teenager. My body was wildly producing things like hormones. I doubt I was feeding it properly or taking care of it properly. It functioned as well as it could under the circumstances. For some reason, that whole monthly cycle thing spit and sputtered. I didn't deal well with the fluxuations.

Along came another medical professional who decided I had one more undesireable body part. An ovary had to come out. Once inside, he declared I was a mess, cut out pie-shaped pieces from each ovary, cleared out my clogged tubes, and delivered his grim message that I would probably never have children because my body didn't like me. What he really meant was my body didn't like being altered. He just didn't know it at the time. Oh, and while he was inside, he spied this little organ named appendix. Foolishly believing it to be a useless appendage that would later cause me problems, he cut that right out too.

I'm sure he thought my body would be elated and celebrate with top notch health. Instead, I noticed I was sick much more often. My body did not fight off bugs very well. Each organ in my body has a function. Sure we can live without many, but optimally, I believe I personally function best with them. I need my tonsils & appendix to do their job in fighting infection and keeping my body clean. The same way my lungs, kidneys, & liver do their job. I have this amazing cleaning system that functions in conjunction with everthing else. Without all of the components, this fine machine deteriorates.

Miraculously, I went on to get pregnant after my ovarian surgery. I was pleased with how well my body functioned with its newfound fertility, so went on to have 5 children. In the middle of my wonderful fertility, my other half began questioning whether my body really new what it was doing by producing all of these children. I tried to assure him, that I was thrilled with whatever and however it chose to reproduce. He didn't agree.

So in our attempts to come to a compromise, I allowed myself to let a doctor tweak with my almost-still perfect body. I quickly discovered hormones not produced naturally by my body caused terrible confusion. My parts just don't know how to handle chemically produced substances. I wised up quit altering my body with hormone pills.

My next attempt was an IUD. It was this little plastic T-shaped device. It's mission, once inserted into my uterus, is to keep out any occupants. This was a newer invention without copper or chemicals. So how exactly was it supposed to work? My guess is being plastic, my body would fight to reject it, making my womb a hostile environment for life. Gosh, this sounds like a good idea? It goes against the natural function of this particular organ.

Foolishly, I agreed to let MR. Dr. talk me into using one. The army of militants within my body rose up and fought against plastic IUD. I went back to my Dr. to tell him of the dissent. He asked my how I knew my body was rejecting this little, tiny piece of plastic. I handed it to him. He was impressed. He agreed that the only way for my body to expel it was it had to contract and push it out the same way my uterus contracted to push a baby out. Impressive how my body functions, isn't it? It likes things normal, so why do I try to mess with it?