It all began with some discomfort on the left side of my abdomen. Occasionally, I’d feel a dull ache or cramping, which I thought was just a normal part of life, especially after having children. My menstrual cycles had become heavier and longer, so I didn’t think much of it. Then came a relentless bout of norovirus that had me throwing up violently, prompting my husband to rush me to the ER for fluids and anti-nausea medication. During my visit, I mentioned a burning sensation in my abdomen, which led the doctors to recommend an ultrasound.
While the ultrasound didn’t reveal anything alarming, it did incidentally discover a dermoid cyst on my ovary. These cysts are not as uncommon as one might think; they make up around 20% of all benign ovarian growths and are the most frequently found in women under 20, although they typically manifest during peak reproductive years, between ages 20 and 40.
I recognized the term immediately because my aunt had experienced them in her late 30s and early 40s. And if your relative has them, you’re likely to remember because dermoid cysts are quite the conversation starters.
The Oddity of Dermoid Cysts
Unlike regular ovarian cysts, which are formed when the ovary releases an egg and typically dissolve on their own, dermoid cysts—technically a type of teratoma—grow persistently. The term “teratoma” originates from the Greek word for “monster.”
While some might humorously refer to uteruses as the original 3D printers, ovaries are like mini factories filled with immature eggs and germ cells. Occasionally, these cells become overzealous and develop bizarre tissues, including fat, hair, skin, and even teeth, or in very rare cases, eyeballs. Yes, you read that right—eyeballs.
You might recall a scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding where a character mentions having a twin in her neck; that was a teratoma, which is just another name for a dermoid in a different location. However, these teratomas aren’t twins and aren’t even human; they are simply sacs filled with strange human-like parts.
I remember my aunt’s fascination with her own cysts. She once told me that after having one removed, her doctor showed it to her. With a mix of amusement and disbelief, she recounted how it was filled with tiny teeth and a tuft of red hair. Red hair! The entire notion horrified me; it was beyond comprehension that a body could produce such oddities without a baby involved.
When I received my diagnosis, I thought, “Of course, this is happening to me.” I had always been aware that these cysts could be hereditary, so it seemed fitting that I might also become a factory for bizarre body parts.
A Touch of Humor in the Chaos
My OB-GYN, known for her delightful personality that combines warmth with a sprinkle of sass, sat down with me to discuss the implications of my newfound friend. She explained that we needed to remove the cyst before it grew too large, as that could lead to complications like rupture or torsion—definitely not something to take lightly.
When she inquired if I knew about dermoids, I replied, “Yes, my aunt had them.” She elaborated, “They can contain fat, hair, and teeth.” Surprisingly, I admitted, “It’s a bit creepy, but also kind of cool.” She enthusiastically agreed, revealing that she had kept a tooth from one of her early removals, stored away in her desk.
As my doctor was transitioning out of her surgical practice, she referred me to a colleague for the procedure. In a moment of inspiration, I thought, “What if I could keep my cyst?” I wanted to have it in a jar—a symbol of resistance against those who dictate women’s choices about their bodies. With the current political climate making it increasingly difficult for women to access healthcare, I imagined bringing my cyst to hearings to make a statement.
“Do you think the doctor will let me keep it?” I asked my OB-GYN. “It’s worth a shot!” she replied.
The surgeon was slightly taken aback by my request but mentioned that they had to send the cyst to pathology for examination. However, she would advocate for me to keep the tooth if it was present.
Meet Olga
I’m naturally a worrier, but I also believe that humor can ease even the most challenging situations. I decided to name my cyst “Olga.” It had to be an alliterative name. As I shared my story with friends, I envisioned Olga as this quirky character who never quite fit in. I even drew her using Snapchat and sent texts proclaiming “FREE OLGA!” My search for images of dermoid cysts did not go well—definitely not for the faint of heart!
Once I was in recovery, my first question was, “Did they find a tooth?” My husband pointed to a cheerful drawing of a tooth on the whiteboard in my room. I was ecstatic!
Weeks later, during a follow-up appointment, my surgeon presented me with a small biohazard bag containing a test tube with my tooth floating in formaldehyde. She also showed me photos of the cyst, now affectionately referred to as my “little fatty cyst,” lined with golden hair and cradling my tooth.
Had I not received an accidental diagnosis or had access to quality healthcare, Olga could have caused significant issues. While Olga and I have yet to make our statement, rest assured she’s safely tucked away, and I even created a Twitter account for her to voice our concerns regarding women’s health. Olga, the one-toothed, hair-laden ovarian cyst, will have her story told, regardless of the obstacles.
In conclusion, dermoid cysts may be quite common, but their oddity cannot be overlooked. For more information on this and related topics, consider exploring resources like the CDC for statistics on infertility and the implications of ovarian health.