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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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?


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Greetings from migraineland

Hi everyone! It’s been very exciting to see the blog numbers go up recently. Thank you all for being here!

We’ve had a new work schedule implemented at my “day job” and while I’ve started several posts

and saved them as drafts, things have been so wacky on the desk that I’ve been unable to complete them. I would have turned to them after hours but Phil had terrible food poisoning so I spent a few nights at his place trying to keep him from dying (very dramatic). I left work early tonight but alas, it is because of a migraine — pouring rain today destroyed my brain, and the menses mind doesn’t help either. I figure once you’ve got sunglasses on at night in the office and it feels like tiny Uma Thurman is recreating “Showdown at House of Blue Leaves” in your head and the back of your eyes are getting stabbed, it’s probably best to call it a night.

If you know what comes next, you know how crappy I feel. Shit gets real, son. (GIF found via Google, creative commons)

But rest assured there are several posts coming your way. Among the topics: the very-long-awaited Mirena IUD follow-up, different endo realities, seeing a new doctor, baby dreams, and — spoiler alert! — poop.

See you real soon. Follow the blog to get notifications as the new posts go up!


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Staying home: Damned if you do, damned if you don’t

AH, MONDAY.

Fuck you.

Normally I would have already been at work (my days off are Thursday and Friday), but I took Sunday off for the wedding party (which I missed) and Saturday off because of how I was feeling (and because it was already on the books, for some reason).

Last night the pain was bad enough that I was using the down-on-all-fours labor position, breathing through it and getting light-headed. I took a pregnancy test to rule out ectopic pregnancy (negative), and decided to call the gyne today if it continued.

So while I’m able to be a mostly upright human being today, my head is splitting open and I am unsure of how bad things may get today. I can already feel that bone-deep pain creeping down my legs, so my guess is “not awesome”.

And there’s a presidential debate tonight, so I know I’m going to want to fall over before the night is through.

And then, what should be a ray of hope: Boyfriend has mistakenly been given today off. Boyfriend offers to work my shift so I can stay home on FMLA.

Problem, you say? What problem?

Well, there’s guilt: we are beyond short staffed at work and can use everyone. Plus, why should he have to cover me because I have cramps? And I feel like I’ve abandoned the rest of the crew.

There’s fear and shame: Last week was so bad I tried to stand up to talk to a boss and almost fell over. This prompted many questions on his part that I was flustered, and I could have dodged but decided “oh fuck it” and told him the truth. Then he looked flustered. And I am afraid of getting so bad, like I used to, that I have to be taken home, or have people asking me all the time what’s going on and looking and feeling like shit at work, where I am supposed to be strong and indifferent.

So where does it stand? I’ll probably post this, and then get in the shower and go to work, like a good little soldier. Don’t expect me to dress nice, though.

What about you? What does it take for you to stay home or back out of events? How do you feel about it?