Makes you doubt yourself and your sanity.
I did for a long time until recently.
On December 20th, I had my first surgery since 2015. I felt so crazy the last few years with them telling me the pain I felt was a nightmare of never-ending turmoil.
I was getting trigger points and doing physical therapy. It always felt like maintenance for something none of us knew about.
I haven't mentioned my surgery on here, yet because I've been scared. I didn't want to go down that road again of no answers, more doubt, and shame. I haven't known what to say or how to feel. will my story make sense...it doesn't to me so why would anyone else get it .
I know what you are thinking, "Why shame. There is nothing to feel shame for."
I felt alone and empty. Maybe the pain for years was in my head. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I was being a hypochondriac.
This surgery validated my truth.
I was hospitalized 3 times for pain in the last 5 months. Never any answers.
Just dope her up on some pain meds, that must be why she is here.
My father and his wonderful amazing friend Dr. B, decided that we can't keep doing this. They sent me a list of new doctors. I called all the second on the list. Dr. C we shall call her.
I pleaded to the nurse on the phone through a soaked face and they got me in so quickly. I knew Nurse R was going to be my saving grace from her concern at my first visit.
The room this time was something from a hoarders episode of all things pink. It was absolutely frightening, and nothing I wanted to be exposed in.
I have only been in there twice but man just like it's a girl gender reveal threw up all over that room.
Dr. C was stern but kind. She basically said screw it let's find out.
Scheduled me for surgery two weeks from the date. This hospital was a little different. They weren't saying prayers over you before you go in but they do make you feel all warm while you lay there naked.
Life is so out of control sometimes, that it's an honest to God blessing that you have any control ever.
Maybe the color of your hair or the nails on your fingers, or the tattoos on your body, but that inside stuff, nah...
you get what you get and you don't throw a fit.
When I woke up I always worry because out of anesthesia I am a total mess, either mad or sad....
basically it is how ever you are drunk is what the Post-Op nurse told me.
I was sobbing. Like a little drunk girl who just was broken up with....a total and utter complete mess.
She told me I have endometriosis.
I knew I was right.
How does one handle that?
How is one supposed to deal with that?
Here is this disease that will have your uterus grow into parts of your body it is not supposed to be and there is no cure but you will be in pain for the rest of your life.
I wasn't crying because I was sad.
I was crying because finally someone heard me screaming my lungs out that something was wrong.
Dr. C heard me. I thank God for her every single day for hearing me.
It's been a little over 2 months post-op. My belly button ring closed up again which is annoying, and I have a little scar on top of my C-Section-esque scar.
I am taking more prescription drugs to numb what was there. They said it should be at most two years before my next surgery.
Math tells me that's going to be a few surgeries left in my life time.
Sometimes I ask myself was it worth it all knowing what I know now....even though there is nothing I can do...
I would have to say yes, because at least now this demon has a name. Now I won't be told it was in my head. Now it won't hurt me because I know it's real. Now I won't be sad thinking that I did this to myself.
