A place for endometriosis survivors & supporters, and all that goes with it.


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#TBT to the first time I published my #endostory

I recently had to clean out my desk and pack up 10 years of memories and collectibles (and, let’s be honest, papers and condiments and dusty old fortunes). Among my discoveries: the long-lost copies of H Magazine from 2009, in which I lay out my excruciating and embarrassing first emergency room visit for extreme pelvic pain and heavy bleeding, describe some of the more graphic details of life with endometriosis for all my coworkers to read, and required our senior Graphics Editor to make a graphic of what endometriosis and adhesions look like. (Sorry not sorry, Steve.)

The story took a big edit and you can’t even find it online any more, since the magazine is no longer in print, but I was still happy — and maybe a little strangely nostalgic — to find these copies and to know they haven’t been totally lost and forgotten. I’d love to take another crack at this and rewrite this article, to update the facts and improve the prose. Maybe now that my schedule has “opened up,” as they say, I’ll have both the time and resolve to do so.

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Happy Endo March all around the world!

Wishing everybody marching for endometriosis awareness a happy, productive, and pain-free weekend! I love seeing the photos from all around the world as I’m perched on my spot on the couch, heating pad on high and little dog laying bored next to me. Keep ’em coming — wish I was with you! (All of you — I attended the original Washington, D.C., march, and who wouldn’t want to march in Scotland or France or South Africa or Canada!)

We’d love to see your favorite photos from your local endo march. Post them to the new official Endo Sucks! Facebook page, and you could see them featured on the Endo Sucks! social media! Be sure to include where you’re from and who you’re marching for.

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Pro tip: What not to drink for your ultrasound prep

So I chugged this 33.8 fl oz bottle of caffeinated water (my beloved Water Joe) to be ready and “full” for ultrasound. Wait an hour past my appointment. First thing the tech says when I get called back: “Use the bathroom and empty your bladder. The internal pictures were much better last time so I’m just going to do those.”

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All that delightful Water Joe for nothing, on an empty stomach. That’s 120mg of caffeine, equal to two cups of coffee, or two espresso shots. It doesn’t sound *so* bad, but my thumb is shaking as I tap out this post. I can feel my eyes are HUGE, almost pie-eyed, and there’s an odd pressure in my head. Oddly, I do not feel any more awake. In fact, I’ve been yawning through my heart flutters.

I do still have to pee.

DEAR GOD I’VE MADE A TERRIBLE MISTAKE

Live and learn … At least the good news today is that my 3.6cm cyst is now 2.5, so no cyst removal for me!


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*UPDATED* I sold a bracelet and I’m pretty psyched

Behold, a garnet and silver stardust bracelet on elastic, made for the 8th birthday of one of my coworkers’ daughters:

Natural garnet and silver-plate stardust beads on elastic, y'all.

Natural garnet and silver-plate stardust beads on elastic, y’all.

My first bracelet sold since I was in college! I’m so proud. Hope she likes it! Happy birthday, Emma!

Email me or leave a comment if you want your very own pure gemstone goodness. :)

**UPDATE** From my coworker: “Emma loved the bracelet. She put in on immediately and kissed it and has not taken it off. … Dad did good and you helped. Way to go.” SO CUTE!**


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Update on the little man

This is a follow-up to a post I made recently, detailing some health issues with my dog, Pippin.

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On one recent Sunday, I took Pippin to work. He’s the best in the biz.

Long story short: NO SURGERY FOR THE SMALL DOG! The ultrasound shows a nodule on his pancreas, and some of his organs were a bit enlarged, but there’s no cancer, no foreign object stuck in his gut, and absolutely no need for surgery, as the first vet had pressed so firmly into my brain.

Basically, his big tummy was full of air and food that was fermenting, which was the culprit in his gastro issues. He’s a small dog that’s getting older and the high-fiber vet food just wasn’t right for him. I put him on soft food of a different brand for a bit, but when that didn’t stop the gastrointestinal distress, we put him on the tried-and-true diet for doggy diarrhea: chicken and rice. He’s been eating it since with only one short-lived gastro issue over the weekend when we relented and gave him a bite of egg white.

No more panting all night like a cow in labor. No more shitting himself. No more tear-inducing farts that wake us up out of a dead sleep in the middle of the night.

My dog did not have cancer. My dog had to take a shit and change his diet. THANKS, VET NO. 1, FOR THE PANIC. I guess doctors of all shades can be total dipshits.

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The battle for the orange bottle continues

English: This is a picture of a Walgreens pres...

This is a picture of a Walgreens prescription bottle. It is not mine. Personal information about the patient is censored. (Photo credit: Wikipedia commons)

If it’s not one thing, it’s another!Ladies and gents, always remember that YOU are your own best advocate and you must be diligent when it comes to your health care. I called Walgreens’ automated service this evening to check the status of my refill orders. I’m glad I did before I got there, because I was surprised/pissed to find they were trying to charge me $160 for FOUR (1-2-3-4) Relpax pills for migraine. Thankfully the fix came easy this time: I called the pharmacy and found that, for some bizarre reason, they had run it through some random coupon program and not my insurance, causing it to be rejected. But I was assured that it will be its usual $10 when I pick it up tonight.

Sadly, this is not the first time for me or for any of you, and it will not be the last. While I know Walgreens staff are humans too, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to fix something with them. They fill the wrong med even though I use the automated system and enter the prescription number myself. They don’t send refill requests. They give me someone else’s medicine and give mine away. They’ve asked me out loud, in front of other customers, why I’m taking birth control. And they frequently run medications incorrectly so that insurance at first doesn’t cover it until I tell them, ask them, fight them, beg them to re-run it.

Not that  insurance is innocent: They’ve put up more than a few fusses and tried to charge more or refuse coverage on different medications, but will pull back and charge the co-pay amount when I’ve pushed back. You never accept a first offer, and you must never be afraid to push back for what you need or when you know something is not right — and even if you don’t know for sure, you ask, question, verify. Don’t just trust that everyone is doing their job to a T; make sure of it.

Your time, money and health are yours, and they are precious. Live it and love it.


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A staff meeting of bizarre levels, or The squeaky wheel gets the cold hard cash

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We just had a meeting with some of the upper brass about our revenue and numbers, which aren’t terrible. There was the usual spread of cookies, cupcakes and rugelach from Publix, and the added thrill of everyone receiving a blue ticket for a cash raffle after the meeting. When a reporter took the necessary step of asking if we’d ever see raises again, our President of Something Important began a long explanation which, after about seven words, you already know is too many to be a “yes.” So that hope is dashed for another quarter.

BUT IT GETS BETTER.

The raffle. Oh, that raffle. I have terrible luck with these things so I didn’t expect a prize. What I could not have expected is not only would the newsroom clean up — a coworker that left and came back as a part-timer won for the second time (the first was in December), a sports desker and a new reporter and wire chief took home some serious cash money (between $200 and $500 each) — but my raffle number was 620. Phil, sitting on my right, was 619 and won $100. Robert, sitting on my left, had a completely odd number series and won $100. The woman two rows ahead of us was 621 and she won $200. Even when they drew a few cash cards based on random employee ID numbers, I did not win. I was a little steamed as we walked out, having literally been surrounded by cash winners while we’re on deadline. So as we’re walking out, The President of Something Newsy — who was also the day’s gift-giver — was shaking hands and thanking people for coming. I shook his hand, and before I knew it, I was telling him “I had some bullshit luck today, and here is why.” (Yes, I used those words.) And I pointed out Phil, Scott, Andrew, Robert, the lady with No. 621. I was just expecting to get a laugh. Instead, this member of the Upper Brass pulled cash out of his pocket and tried to hand me a $20 bill as a consolation prize. I threw my hands up, being surprised and scared to take money from him. Ultimately he talked me into it, agreeing that I’d had some seriously crap luck today and I’d earned it. And I walked out of there with $20 that I feel weird about but now can’t return.

Now I’m working on a locator map for a new Greyhound station that will be my second graphic in print for this newspaper this weekend. Not bad, considering I only started official graphics training on Tuesday. However, I’ve been walking stiffly and hunched over the last few hours, my heating pad scalding the crap out of me, as I start on day one of a brand new birth control that I’ve been reminding my gyno about for over a week (and going without in the meantime). At least it was free. Thanks, Obama! Please find a way to make my uterus behave.

So what did you do at work today?