The Single Most Horrifying Text I Have Ever Received In My Entire Life

Author’s Note: Told with permission. Nay, with encouragement. And it probably needs a trigger warning for horrible…medical…um…good god, I don’t even know.

So I have been having the week that will not die. Kevin had food poisoning, then I put him on a plane, then I had mega food poisoning, then I laid around for a day or two recuperating and by the time I could stay upright without lunging for the bathroom, Brandon the border collie was ill and I had to maneuver an elderly 75lb dog with bad hips into a car, a feat made (just barely) possible by all that mulch I throw around, and then I got home with Brandon and maneuvered him into the house to discover that the beagle had a limp, which meant I spent all day at the vet today.*

But this pales. Pales, I say! In comparison to what happened some days ago.

I received a text from my mother.

It said—I have it before me now—

“Still blizzards and extreme windchill and today my uterus fell out.”

No, go back and re-read it.

I did.

Several times.

It is worth noting that this tells you a lot about my mother, and also about the weather in Upper Peninsula Michigan, which is so dire that it gets mentioned first. (Or maybe that’s just my mother. The windchill would need to be measured in Kelvin before I mentioned that first.)

My reply was…well…honestly, I gotta say, there’s only so many things you can say to this statement.

MOM: Also have been walking around with another infection for months
MOM: Yep. It’s still attached, but now I know what it looks like.
ME: …please tell me you’re messing with me and this is not a thing that happens.
MOM: Went to the doctor who was somewhat shocked. Says I need surgery.
ME: Get the surgery! I will pay for it! Oh god!
MOM: It does actually happen. If you google it  you will be totally grossed out.**
ME: Excuse me, I have to go get a total hysterectomy right now.

Mom informed me that she was going to pick up my kid brother, and suddenly a thought occurred to me. It was a bad thought. It was a bad thought that became what is, possibly, the most unfortunate string of words I have ever had to type together in one place.


MOM: I shoved it back it. It seems to be staying put for now.
MOM: It’s really much more inconvenient than painful.

There is another gap here, where I seem to recall wandering the kitchen making mewling noises like a baby raccoon that has fallen out of a tree and then perhaps been forced to read the collected works of the Nihilist philosophers

Eventually I rallied.

ME: I really want to be supportive right now, but I also need to drink until I do not remember this conversation, so I am conflicted.
MOM: Haha

At this point, I sought the comfort of several female friends, who largely reacted by going into the shower and sobbing and scrubbing themselves with steel wool, but my buddy Otter looked it up for me in between rocking and sobbing and determined that yes, this is actually a thing that happens.

(I am so sorry, readers, to inform you of this. Truly. But also glad that I am not suffering this knowledge alone.)

It is also–har har–hereditary.

Childbirth is the major contributing factor, thankfully, so I am probably in the clear. (Otter suggests I also avoid coughing for the rest of my natural life, and probably sneezing if I can help it.)

MOM: Also, if you are of Northern European descent, that makes it more likely.
ME: Excuse me while my cervix builds a moat and puts bars on the windows.

And then…

MOM: Thank you for making me laugh! Although I don’t want to laugh too hard…
MOM: Nooo, too much laughing NOOOOO!
MOM: Plop
ME: Go watch Dr. Zhivago or something! Don’t laugh!
MOM: Just kidding. Well, about that bit, not about the rest of it.

Yes, dear reader, that bit was my mother trolling me. Very successfully, might I add.

Anyway. If you don’t want to google “uterine prolapse” (and Jesus, why would you?) it happens. It just sort of…falls forward and outward. There are a couple of methods of fixing it, most involving hysterectomy and a few involving silicone inserts. My mother goes in for surgery when her insurance okays things.

She is also in no pain, thinks it’s funny–now–and adds that uteruses are astonishingly small. And was happy to have me blog about it. So. Um. Picture the “More You Know” rainbow going behind this post.

It’s been a rough week, I won’t lie, but this is arguably the single most wildly bizarre thing in it.

2015. Off to a helluva start. For everybody in the family.

*Official diagnosis: The beagle was so upset that Brandon got to ride in the car and he didn’t that he tore around having hysterics, popped his patella out, and then popped it back in. He got his car ride, and also a nail trim and painkillers. Brandon got lots and lots of painkillers. I? Did not get painkillers. I got Pepto-Bismol. The universe is deeply flawed.

**She is not lying.

22 thoughts on “The Single Most Horrifying Text I Have Ever Received In My Entire Life

  1. Mean Waffle says:

    I’m sorry your mother is going through this and I’m sorry that you had to be grossed out. I know I’d be squicked if it was happening to me. Thankfully, the possibility is behind me.

    Oddly, reading about a prolapsed uterus doesn’t remind me of my own hysterical adventures, it reminds me of a James Herriot story about a cow with a pro-ute. I won’t describe the treatment because of spoilers, but she (the cow) was fine. Went on to have more calves. I’m sure your mom will be fine, too.

    • erebor says:

      Oddly enough, my first thought upon reading the text was, “Oh my god, it can happen to humans?!” because of the James Herriot stories. I remember that one vividly. And the ones about the Pekinese.
      I am under 30 so barring other horrific things it won’t be an option, but a hysterectomy is looking quite appealing at the moment. Guh.

    • roisindubh211 says:

      Ahahaha that was my reaction too, I’ve read these so many times, 12 year old me was half convinced I could, in a pinch, deliver a calf if I had to.

  2. Lily says:

    Yup, that’s a thing that happens. Happened to my grandmother a few years ago. Hope there’s no more food poisoning in your home, the dogs recover quickly, and that your mother’s insurance covers the whole…repair…thing.

  3. Jennifer says:

    Reminds me vividly of when I was 15 and my mom had to go to the emergency room for a miscarriage. First of all, they woke up my older brother in the middle of the night and told him where they were going, he promptly fell asleep and forgot (I don’t think he was ever actually awake) so we got up with 3 kids under the age of 10 all panicking because mom and dad had unexpectedly disappeared. Then, when my mom returned, she’s like “honey come sit with me and let me tell you IN EXTREME DETAIL ALL ABOUT MY D&C”

    This is why I do not have children.

  4. Liddle-Oldman says:

    I am not of a uterus-bearing gender, but when I first came across this adverse event (working in medical research), I was unable to uncross my legs for the rest of the day.

    Your mother seems pretty resilient. I offer mine, who once said from her hospital bed, “Why are you here? It was just a heart attack, and it’s all over.” Still, the poor woman.

    • ursulav says:

      He’s a throwback to some Scottish border collie or other–he’s seriously a giant. Everybody else in the litter was normal and then there was the freakishly huge member of the clan.

  5. Crystal says:

    This reminds me of a conversation I had on the phone with my mom several years ago. It was a completely normal conversation about inane crap and next thing I know “bla bla bla my @$$hole fell out.” Excuse me your what did what? Please tell me you went to the doctor. “I shoved it back in and called the doc. They said it wasn’t a problem as long as it stays in there and doesn’t hurt. I washed my hands before I did it.” Mom, I need to hang up the phone now, I have officially reached my weird sh** quota for the day.

    • Penny says:

      Ok, as a former labour & delivery nurse the prolapsed uterus did not freak me out… the manner in which her mother chose to tell the author about it is wickedly funny, though. But, Crystal, your post made me laugh till I had tears in my eyes and needed to use my inhaler!! I salute you! 😀

  6. Tindi says:

    Not sure what it says about the people I hang out with, but I was like, “And there’s another uterine prolapse story.” I seriously know three people, who are all three dear friends, who have had this happen. Well, two friends and one friend’s mom, because, as you say, it is hereditary. But still. I will not horrify you with the details (and they would horrify you).

    Your mother’s priorities in the text message seem very UP to me, given that my experience is mostly with my in-laws. They are awfully preoccupied with the weather, especially at this time of year. Also, pass on my (random internet stranger) compliments for epic mom trolling, because that was pretty awesome.

  7. Sara Florey says:

    Oh god oh god ohgodohgodohgod


    Thank you for that knowledge. More knowledge is always a good thing. A good thing. A … thing…

    In all seriousness, hope all of you and your family are feeling all better soonest!

  8. Hannah says:

    I just sort of read this with an expression of gradually increasing horror, crossing my legs tighter and tighter. Good, god, this happens?! Why would nature do such a thing?!

    Anyways, hope your mom recovers well. It’s kind of badass that she was so nonchalant about this, where many others– myself included– with would just be continuously shrieking about how my insides are now outside and why god why is this happening.

    • Hannah says:

      Update: My mother just informed me that she had this shortly after giving birth to me. She suffered with it being partially detached (oh god oh god) for four more years before getting a total hysterectomy. I am very frightened.

  9. Steve Simmons says:

    I want you to know I just did a dramatic reading of this post to Ruth. Well, maybe more of a traumatic reading. She laughed, she cried, she looked pretty damned queasy.

    It’s all good.

    My best to your Mom, and good mojo to her whenever her surgery is scheduled.

  10. Scuzz says:

    Oh come on, it’s not that bad up here in the UP. Only -14C right now. Just got inside from my evening stroll.

    Those texts though, that is quite a bit horrifying. Nice that your mother has a sense of humor though.

  11. The_L says:

    Of all the things my mother and I have ever said to each other, I now know that I can console myself with the knowledge that neither of us has ever had to say “WHERE IS YOUR UTERUS NOW.”

    Then again, I was a C-section baby, so I’m pretty sure Mom’s isn’t going to detach any time soon…

  12. Leah says:

    Yes. Yes this is a thing. This thing happened to me when I was 28 years old and pregnant with my 3rd child. When I sneezed one day and thought to myslef, “Self. I think there is something…wrong..?” I was confused, because I had no pain, just something…umm..sticking out of me? I excused myself to the bathroom and after some investigation, and realizing I was having small contractions, made an urgent call to my doctor. His exam confirmed it was my cervix I had felt sticking out of my nether regions. I spent the rest of that pregnancy on my back, then delivered my daughter at 35 weeks. But guess what else happens when your uterus falls out. Your bladder falls too. And sometimes your rectum. Oh yes…yes this is lovely isnt it? I had a hysterectomy, cycstocele and rectocele repair done at 29 years old. Yay me!!

  13. Leah says:

    And by the way, I live in Mn. Its freaking cold here. But the UP has so much more snow. At least we only have to measure in inches. They measure on the telephone poles! Oh, and I like your mom. I’m a fellow oversharer. Lol I have blogged about my false teeth falling out at the register while paying for gas and other joyful things.

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