body parts

Perhaps it's that I'm getting older and have a birthday drawing nigh, but the aging of my bits and pieces has been on my mind lately. Actually, there are several factors which have combined forces to command my attention. A fellow member of the League of Savannah Bloggers, after a worrisome absence of some few weeks, has informed all that he is facing surgery on his parathyroid. I, myself, have been taking medication for hypothyroidism for some few years now, but wonder if I may face such surgery in the future.
My earlier discussion of an art show I witnessed is also still front of mind, much as I would wish 'twere not so. Aldwyth's work truly got under my skin, with her propensity for displaying body parts as, literally, objects of art. Truly disturbing.
So, my body parts have come into question. In particular, I think the time may be fast approaching when a hysterectomy is in order. A few years ago, I was having intense abdominal pain and my doctor had an ultrasound done to try to determine the cause. Well, my body's ability to create cysts has not been limited to any one part of my body, apparently. Both ovaries have cysts and, at the time, were causing me such distress that I had bought a feather mattress pad, which allowed me some measure of sleep at night. My doctor told me that if the situation did not improve, I should consider surgery. Evidently, my "girl parts" got the message and ceased their torsion, ending my sense of urgency to be rid of them.
It's not like this would be anything that other women in my family have not already endured. My mother had a complete hysterectomy when she was only 45 years old... and so I've hung on to my ovaries, et al, for almost seven years longer than she did. Not that its a contest, mind. That would just be too bizarre. No, it's not the surgery that concerns me so much, it's the anesthesia. I have had several procedures in the past few years which required anesthesia. The first, for my 49th birthday, was an eviction of my gallbladder. That was followed the next year with upper endoscopy and colonoscopy (both to rule out possible serious problems for a condition which turned out to be lactose intolerance).
With each procedure, I found it increasingly difficult to get over being "put under" and I strongly dislike the disorientation and lack of control. How many days of fogginess would I have to endure this time? What about hormonal replacement therapy? Should I or shouldn't I? Just how out of whack have my hormones been for these past six or seven years? Would I even notice a difference?
I had told my singing bird that I would call the doctor last week for a consult. Of course I have not yet done so.
But I will tomorrow.