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


Leave a comment

Need another reason to stand up and #educateDrDrew ?

Oh, if you insist.

I have seen this several places tonight. Here is an entry from Grass Fed Girl – her report, and her educational story.

Click the photo or this web address: http://www.grassfedgirl.com/dr-drew-hassles-jennifer-esposito-about-her-celiac-disease/

20140428-005837.jpg

Advertisements


5 Comments

The buttonhooks are back.

English: Buttonhooks with handles made of horn...

English: Buttonhooks with handles made of horn and wood, on display at Bedford Museum. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

These, my lovers, are buttonhooks. These sharp little bastards were used to help cinch buttons into the buttonholes of button-up shoes, naturally.

And for several weeks, the little demon in my pelvis has been using one to get my attention at most inopportune times. Like at work. Or home. Or sleeping. Or just trying to pee. I usually describe my pains to physicians and friends alike as like buttonhooks pulling my insides apart. (I blame the move “Sybil” for working this imagery into my psyche when I was 16.)

And sisters, the buttonhooks are decidedly back.

This is how I felt constantly before my third laparoscopy: lots of ripping and stabbing, sudden sharp tears of pain that moved quickly from the left to right side, or punctured through the right of my pelvis down through the cervix. You ever been punched in the cervix? Probably not, but most endo sisters are going to know what I mean. Guys, try to imagine one of those long slender metal knitting needles being used to get a really bitching penile piercing, except it’s sliding up your urethra.

Yeah. That.

At the end of February I had a pain spell that knocked the hell out of me. I suddenly lost focus of vision, had ripping, dragging pain from left to right in my pelvis, and couldn’t catch my breath — if I breathed in more than a shallow pant, it hurt like hell under my ribs. I suddenly burst into tears, unable to deal with the shock and terrible feelings. I ended up lying on the floor for a good 40 minutes while the waves of pain increased and then gently floated away. I was glad to not be alone, and Phil talked me through it — mostly he was on the internet, asking my symptoms and entering them into a WebMD symptom checker. After each inquiry, he’d tell me the online remedy was “go to the hospital.”

“Try another one,” I’d reply. I’m not going to the hospital unless I damn well need to. Not only do they not deserve any more of my money, but all they’ll do is keep me cold and braless for 6 hours, take an ultrasound or maybe an MRI if they feel adventurous, and send me home with the classification “unknown cause, please follow up.”

Even just tonight I walked to the bathroom here at work. By the time I got there I was gasping — the knitting-needle-to-the-cervix pain left me breathless and sweating. And the damn things go as quickly as they arrive, so had anybody walked in as I was regaining composure, it would have been a bizarre scene indeed.

I know that my intestines aren’t that happy with me. More pain meds mean more constipation mean more pain — you can’t get around it. And my wonky overtime schedule this week has mean I’m neglecting the awesome essential oils I was given that actually seemed to start to make a gentle difference in my stomach situation.

But what can’t be denied is that I’ve been here before. I was a crumpled mess before my last lap (just go back a few pages, you’ll see) and when they went in — DAMN. Massive endometrioma in the right ovary which was stuck to the uterus and that whole clump stuck to the pelvic wall; the left sigmoid colon stuck to itself and the pelvic wall; endo on the bladder, the uterus, and knotting my ureters together (AGAIN) and for the first time, endo in the cul-de-sac and the diagnosis of adenomyosis.

And I knew I was in pain. I was blacking out from it, even behind the wheel. I was going two weeks with no BM (as I have recently, and it is NOT fun). I was weeping and narcotic drunk and not functional. And it STILL took 4 years, three doctors and a third surgery for anyone to believe it could be “that bad.”

I can’t wait that long this time. Nobody should. I may have exhausted my resources locally, but that doesn’t mean I will let my body suffer. I have one ovary left and it is mine, endo can’t have it, and my life is mine, endo can’t have it.

So I guess it may be time to travel again. You know, I’ve never been to New York City …


5 Comments

The 2013 Endo Challenge: A prep for Endometriosis Awareness Month

Holy hell, folks.

It’s the end of February. Which means it’s almost March. Which means (you maybe guessed it): Endometriosis Awareness Month is here again!

It’s a celebration of US, y’all. (Found on Google Images using Creative Commons license filter)

In previous years, I’ve tried to blog every single day for Endo Month. Sometimes that’s worked really well; other years, not so much (i.e. I’m still trying to get over the fact that I abandoned ship in the middle of the month in 2012 after a traumatic gyno visit, about which I *still* have yet to talk to anyone about).

This year, I’m going to take a different approach that I think we all will enjoy: More articles, more reblogs from other awesome endo folks, more photos – maybe not every day, but certainly no blogging famine either.

And in that spirit, I present to you a challenge. THE 2013 ENDO CHALLENGE, to be specific.

Here’s what I want from participants in the Endo Challenge: Set a goal, know why you’re setting it, and then go ahead and do it. Blog about it, tweet about it, post it in the Endo Sucks! group, email me about it — however you want to communicate it so we can share together.

For example, my first Endo Challenge for myself: NO MORE SODA. No sugary drinks, no sugar-free drinks. I don’t know how many more articles and charts and studies I have to see before I give up the ghost and admit the negative effects my caffeinated indulgence can have: cellular damage, the terrible effects it can have on metabolic rates and sugar spikes, inflammation, the unsavory effect it has on your teeth …. UGH. As the many 2-liter bottles around my desk can attest, we drink way too much of it, even if I work a night job. I’ve given it up before, I’ll survive. I’ll just have to take up Water Joe again when I really want caffeine!

I’ll start there, but how will you challenge yourself this month? Here’s a few ideas from the top of my head:

* Start a positivity journal. Write down something good that’s happened to you every day, to remind you that you are living a life, not just a life with endometriosis.

* Participate in a local endometriosis awareness event. For example, The Great Endo Balloon Race 2013 is a way for endo survivors worldwide to pick a day to hand out yellow balloons to strangers, doctors offices, hospitals — pretty much anywhere — and attach information about endometriosis to it, as much or as little as you like — a definition and a URL of an endo blog or a group like the Endometriosis Research Center, the is a good place to start. They also have tips on more eco-friendly balloon choices and other ideas. Join the group and tell them Endo Sucks! sent you! :D There’s also races, meet-ups, the endo quilt — possibilities abound!

* Get in touch with an endo group. Most countries have endometriosis associations; just check out how many I follow on Twitter or what groups have pages on Facebook, or just Google it! Don’t have one? Consider starting one. Small steps lead to great journeys. The ERC is one; other places to start include the Endometriosis Foundation of America and Endometriosis.org.

* Make a change. Change your exercise routine. Start an exercise routine. Eliminate known food triggers from your diet and see how you feel. Drink more water. Eat less gluten. Again, it’s amazingly up to you. Be sure to give diet changes at least two weeks to judge their efficacy and change one food at a time so you know exactly which food is or isn’t helping.

* Talk it out. Make time for this. Talk to your mom and ask her about her experiences. Talk to your friends and make them know that they need to meet you a little more than halfway when it comes to what you can and can’t do with endo. Talk to your partner and gently explain how you feel and what you need from them when you have an Endo Day. Post to the Endo Sucks! group. Talk to a counselor. Unburdening yourself and educating others is a great way to find support you may never have known was there. Don’t be afraid to ask for what you need!

* Do your research. Did you know many women with endo also have Interstitial Cystitis, and some of your pelvic pain may actually be bladder pain? Did you know the company that makes Mirena is coming out with a smaller IUD called Skyla that is supposed to be better tolerated by women who’ve never had children, and can help with adenomyosis pain? Challenge what you think you know about endometriosis and related conditions, and know that doctors work for YOU — you have the DUTY to ask as many questions as possible and explore every avenue of treatment.

* Ask your job for Intermittent FMLA. This is something I believe every single working woman should do. The Family Medical Leave Act offers Americans specific, paid protections of their job when it comes to surgery, chronic conditions, maternity leave and caring for others — but they may not come out and say “Hey, did you know you can fill out the FMLA form, get Intermittent FMLA, and have your much-needed endo days at home paid 50 percent by FMLA and 50 percent by your paid time off?” My job didn’t. You don’t have to tell them WHY you need an Intermittent FMLA form — just sit down and ask for one. You’ll need your doctor to sign off on it, but it is SO worth it. (A guest blog is coming soon on this topic!)

* Take time for you. Dare to take good care of yourself. Get a massage. Don’t get out of yoga pants all day if you don’t feel like it. Treat yourself to a movie. Learn to make a new favorite meal. DO FOR YOU and don’t take no crap from nobody.

That’s what I can think of for now. Leave me a comment and tell me what YOUR 2013 Endo Challenge will be — and if you have a blog about it, please link to it in the comments!


Leave a comment

Endo Month, Day 13: Life as a Type E personality

I came cross this video of Dr. Tamer Seckin — co-founder of the Endometriosis Foundation of America with Padma Lakshmi, who is also an endo survivor — talking about Type E personality. It’s a short but powerful discussion of how women live their lives with endometriosis pain. And while having endo doesn’t always equate pain, nor does lots of endo equal lots of pain, he talks about the mask and strength we don to get through our day — a pride without vanity that weighs heavy on our shoulders until we just can’t take it any more.

Click below to watch the video

That’s right, click here!

To quote Dr. Seckin:

“I have come to convince myself there is a Type E — Endometriosis — personality. Here is why: I have been treating women in New York City from all origins. They are high achievers — PhDs, lawyers. They would not accept any sign of pain on their faces; they won’t show it to you. … These women — pain they can suffer, but they cannot show their pain. For years they live the same thing over and over, every month. However one day comes, they close the door, they sit in front of you and say ‘I can’t take it any more. I need something to be done.’ …”

He goes on to say that there is no cure but, with good surgery, even women who have tried everything — many doctors, birth control, diet, nutrition, exercise, acupuncture, etc. — can find relief, even if it’s only for a while, and that when endo returns, just knowing what it is and what they can do makes them better prepared to deal with it.

I am definitely a Type E. I won’t tell you I’m in pain unless I have to. Too many days have been spent at work with a heating pad strapped around me, lips and hands numb from codeine, because I must persevere. To do anything else is an admission of defeat.

Then a horrific day will hit me, or my mind and emotions give way for a while, and the whole damn thing collapses. It does nothing for our self-esteem, or our state of health — mental or physical.

Are you a Type E?