I Will Not Suffer In Silence

Today I slept in til 10:30am, but when I got up, immediately the pain and bleeding resumed.

I ate a breakfast bar and the last quarter of a protein bar I didn’t finish yesterday, and washed it down with Almond milk so I could take my medication. I took 600mg Advil gel-caps and half a Tylenol 3.

I heated up two rice pads, and then I could not get comfortable. Standing hurt. Sitting hurt worse. Laying on my back hurt. Laying on my side hurt worse. So for awhile I was okay as long as I laid on my belly on the bed with the heating pads on my lower back. I tried propping up on my elbows so I could be on the laptop, but typing on the laptop meant ‘moving around too much’. :(

I’d say I’m at a 7 on the pain scale.

After a short while, my neck and shoulders had enough of that, whether propped up or laying face down, and of course I developed a headache (thanks bulging disks in the neck).

Now I have reheated the rice pads and I’m reclined against two pillows and a pillow chair. The drugs have kicked in enough for the pain to begin easing off. Sleep will follow soon.

Side note: I’m still having crazy/bad dreams. Could be from the meds, not sure at this point cuz the dreams have been ongoing since a week or so before my period.

Currently it is 65°F outside, bright and sunny. Today I am feeling bad for not being out in it, and yet the brightness is hurting my eyes, even through the windows.

Yesterday I consumed over 1,600mg of Advil gel-caps and I think a total of 2 Tylenol 3. I sometimes forget.

…counts remaining pills…

Yeah, that’s correct.

Today I have taken a total of 2 Tylenol 3 and I have consumed 1,000mg of Advil gel-caps.

*** TMI ALERT ***

My day started at a 7 on the Mankoski pain scale and when I sat up in bed, blood just gushed forth. I am so glad that I wore my super giant fabric pad to bed last night. When I got to the bathroom, I was amazed at how soaked the pad was in just that instant. When I had cleaned myself up and got up to flush the toilet, I was amazed to see freshly clotted blood on the lid of the toilet behind me. I tried to wipe it up with a quick motion, but it still smeared. Shock set in at that point, I swear. I can only handle so much blood.
My husband came home from the gym about that time, and I emerged from the bathroom, wide-eyed, and told him all about it, the poor thing.

He takes it in stride, I think. Poor guy has been seeing me in pain and with abnormal periods for the last ten years, now. Hopefully he’s used to the TMI. We’ve both seen each other through surgeries and worse, anyway. We’re young veterans, heh.

In other news, I forgot to take my supplements so far today. It’s been hard, since yesterday and today I have suffered moderate nausea and low appetite.
Last night, my husband brought home sugar-free, dairy-free Coconut Bliss ice cream, and I ate that for dinner, heh.

I noticed that when I’m bedridden, I’m pretty much on a cereal diet, or a diet similar to one who has the flu. Sometimes there’s a load of comfort food / junk food thrown in, but not always.

Today I got so nauseous that I had to stop reading my homework, and I could not look at the computer for very long. I’d type something in chat and then look away for minutes. Still, I forced myself to make some lunch around 2:30pm or so. I cooked up some chicken and made a ‘Thai’ broth; a cup of chicken broth with half a can of coconut milk, 1tbsp chili paste, 2tbsp fish sauce, and some other seasonings. I added broccoli and mushrooms, onions and garlic, and some baked chicken. I put it all over some Basmati rice. It was pretty good. Needs to be spicier next time, and less salty.

After lunch, I read some more homework for a bit, then took a shower. The bleeding usually abates when I spend time in the shower or bath. Or at least it used to. For the last several menstrual cycles, this has not been the case. It’s more like a scene out of Stephen King’s “Carrie”.

Oh and I’m still having weird dreams and nightmares. Last night I had a doozy - an actual out of body experience from sleep state. It was actually kind of neat, though.

Tonight my husband has a dinner engagement that he’s been looking forward to me attending with him, but I have to pass. I don’t want to be center of attention when the cramps start back up again. I don’t feel like being out in public with this much bleeding going on. I don’t use tampons because I’ve always been prone to yeast infections and urinary tract infections, and on top of it, I have a short vagina and a retroverted uterus, so things hurt when they’re put into the canal. And anyway, I bleed right through a damned tampon. So in case anyone wanted to suggest that in order to get me out of the house, you can forget about it. ;)
I feel bad, but at the same time, I’d rather not move around much and make the pain worse. Even getting out of bed to make lunch earlier set off a new round of cramps, and I had taken 400mg Advil. I should have taken twice that, but I knew I was already at the 1,000mg mark for the day, so I backed off until after I got out of the shower, when I took a half a Tylenol 3 in order to make sure there is constant overlap in my medication dosing. Just don’t wanna chance getting up to 7 or 8 on the pain scale again.

The past two days have been sunny and in the 70s outside, and I have not seen any of it. This time around, I don’t even care.

This morning I got up, ate two bowls of cereal, leaned over to pet my cat, and the nausea and weakness set in. The pain and bleeding, which had stopped overnight, also resumed.

I hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, then called in sick to work again. My body wanted to puke and the pain was only a 6 on the pain scale.

At 8am, I took a whole Tylenol 3 pill. Within 18 minutes, the drugs kicked in. Sweet!

I have determined that I’m alright, as long as I *don’t move*. I can stand, or I can lay down with heating pads. Sitting or otherwise moving around is right out.

The part that sucks the most is that my mind is feeling better, but my body is not. My mind is awake, alert and ready to tackle housework. But then I take one step and my pelvis cries out in agony.
The Tylenol 3 is not just good for pain dissociation, it’s also good for knocking me flat, so that I’m forced to rest.

Like, right now. I’m super light-headed and need to go lay down.

9:40am Edit:
Just woke with the most mother effing cramps ever. Too nauseous to eat. Take more Tylenol 3? Take Advil? Call an ambulance?

9:50am Edit:
Heating Amy’s freezer brand gluten free mac ‘n cheese. Will take 4 advil gel caps. Already have 2 heating pads on me. breathing.

10:20am Edit:
Got the mac ‘n cheese down. Got the Advil down. Also took another Tylenol 3. Breathing. Waiting. Pacing. Acupressure points.

11am Edit:
I am effectively dissociated from the pain once more. Trying for sleep again.

1:30pm Edit:
Slept for an hour and 40 minutes (until 12:40pm), pretty good.
Problem is, I wasn’t breathing. Had Tylenol 3 induced nightmares. Woke up choking for air. It’s now nearly an hour after I woke up, and I am still drawing deep breaths and hoping for the full return of my faculties, and I have a headache.

I had crazy dreams/nightmares about my ma’s side of the family, like I *always* do when on a lot of Tylenol 3. We had some sort of reunion in someone’s house, which had an upstairs and a basement. There were small dogs, I think. The family was glad to see me but didn’t know how to act around me - as usual I was the weird one. The family acted as though I was cursed, or worse, an imposter of the blood line. But they tried to be nice to me about it. Then it faded to ignoring me. I tried to get photos but no one would stand still. The photos I did get looked creepy, so I declared the house to be haunted. At the end of the dream, I asked the family to all post skeletons as their user pix on Facebook.

The dream is just my fear of rejection surfacing, again. In the past year, I have reconnected with 23 family members on my ma’s side, mostly cousins. I am supposed to have a family reunion with them sometime this year.

My last post was at noon today. I ate some leftover dinner, which consisted of crock pot chicken, mushroom soup, spices and rice noodles, and with it I decided to make a medicinal marijuana hot chocolate.

Yesterday I bought a resealable peppermint mocha packet. It says it’s a single serving, but since I’m sensitive to every medication on the planet, I took it easy. I used one tablespoon of the mocha mix in 8oz of heated goat milk, mixed with a tablespoon of Trader Joe’s Sipping Chocolate.
I sipped on the chocolate drink - no immediate results. I sipped until the drink got cold - still no results.

The pain began to ramp up from 3 to 4 and then to 6 on the pain scale. I said screw it and drank down the rest of the no longer hot chocolate in three gulps.

Still nothing.

The pain reached intermittently to 9 on the pain scale, and I broke. I began sobbing from the pain.
In all, it had to be over an hour from first ingestion to feeling any effect of the food grade medical marijuana. At that point, I began to feel light headed. Still crying, I asked my husband very nicely to please scrub out the tub so I could take a hot bath.
The marijuana kicked in while I soaked in the tub. There were a lot of little clots. I bled and bled and tried to just let it all come out. I stared at the soapy water in the tub, and went on some sort of hippie line of thought of interconnectedness, which took me into beautiful mental landscapes and memories of the scenery in the movie Avatar. Once I was able to snap out of my daze, I realised that what I wanted today was pain relief, and what I got instead was a fracking drug trip, and slight dissociation from the pain. But no actual relief. For some reason, the anal pain had returned with a vengeance today, and I wondered if it was due to menstrual blood getting back there and inflaming everything. But no matter what I did, clean myself, soak in warm water - the anal pain stayed on course, stinging and gnawing right along with the uterine pain.

After about half an hour in the tub, I slowly stood up and began drying off. Of course, my period got heavier. I just let it happen. Dried off the best I could, got a new cloth pad on and got dressed.
I applied some Tucks to my asshole and still the pain did not desist.

I paced the house, wondering what to do next for the uterine and anal pain. I sobbed again in the kitchen, I tried to lay on the couch, and then I was in bed, crying from the pain. I tried acupressure as often as I could, and I fear I’ve left bruises on my body from clutching the points for so long.
I told my husband that I didn’t want to be on a stinking drug trip, with sensitive hearing and landscapes of Avatar, being all hippie about how everything is connected to everything else - if I wanted all that, I’d have had a drug party and invited friends over. I wanted pain relief, goddammit. I told my husband I could give him a very detailed report of the pain from a semi-detached point of view, and that’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want dissociation - I wanted NO PAIN.

My poor husband. He’s never done any drugs. He was at a loss for what to do. He felt so helpless and I could see how it frustrated him. He asked me a lot of questions about the trip I was on, about what I could feel and see and hear and what was difficult for me. Hearing is accented; children playing outside, and birds and the sound of the BART train a couple of miles away - were all crisp and clear in my ears, even through closed windows. Cars passing our house sounded muffled in that poorly mixed early 1970s movie sort of way.

My husband fed me 800mg Advil gel caps, and now I had to wait half an hour for those to kick in.
I think it was 25-30 minutes for the Advil to kick in, and the cramps started to calm down.

The medical marijuana made me very tired, and I was glad to be able to get some sleep since the cramps were abating. I slept for nearly two hours, and when I woke, it was dark outside. I had the craziest dreams/nightmares from the marijuana. I cannot remember them, but it was like fever dreams.

An entire day, fighting the pain, on a bad drug trip, caused by ONE TABLESPOON out of a packet intended to be ingested completely in one sitting. The high finally wore off around 7pm. I had a seven hour bad drug trip with no pain relief and minimal dissociation from said pain. DO NOT WANT.

My husband wants me to try the butter again. I’m not touching the medical marijuana again today. If the pain ramps up again, I’m hitting the Tylenol 3. At least I know the effects from that. At least I can split a pill and know what I’m getting into. At least I can still function on the stuff.

I got about 7 hours of sleep before having to wake for the day because the pain forced me out of bed.

I stood groggily in the bathroom, staring in the mirror, trying to figure out if I should take Tylenol 3 with Advil, or eat some more medicated butter with Advil. The pain rose to a 7 on the pain scale.

I remembered eating just a few slivers of the medicated butter on a gluten-free waffle last night. The effects took 20 minutes or longer to kick in, and then I was pain-free for about an hour to an hour and a half. Then the pain returned, but was not an alarming pain. I went to bed with heating pads. Within half an hour, I was awake again and severely stoned. What?!? How did that happen? I was dizzy and slightly nauseous due to being so stoned. Was it the fact that I’d been on half a Tylenol 3 before eating the medicated butter - did it prolong the high? It just seemed like a new wave of stoned was washing over me - after I had gone to bed. Kinda scary.
When my husband crawled into bed around 3am, I woke suddenly and was dizzy and discombobulated. I cried out. I had no idea what was happening. I was on the verge of hallucinating.
My sleep remained broken and full of strange dreams all night.

This is why I stood in the bathroom this morning, contemplating which drug to medicate with. I know the Tylenol 3 like the back of my hand. The medicated butter is new and scary for me, especially since the dosing is completely up to me to figure out, and is not so cut and dry as pill splitting.

TMI FOLLOWS:

When the pain got to a 7 this morning, I also got the urge to defecate. Usually this is bad news - whenever there is pressure on the bowels or the bladder, the endometriosis pain becomes excruciating. While having a movement, I sometimes yell or cry out in pain, and sometimes I get quite nauseated from the pain, but once I’ve had the movement, the pain subsides, leaving me exhausted physically and emotionally. It does not matter if I have a soft stool, or diarrhea - if the bowels are agitated, it can get real bad for me, pain-wise. Of course, if I’m constipated, forget it, I’ll be on the verge of passing out from the pain.
Thankfully this morning the pain did not reach nauseating levels, and I was not constipated. Thankfully the pain abated immediately after the movement, and I’ve been about a 3 on the pain scale for the past hour.

That means I have delayed taking any medication, but the question still faces me - Tylenol 3 or medicated butter?

Today is Sunday. It is only my second day of full on menses and pain. I estimate I’ll be missing work tomorrow, based on years of experience as to how long my cycle lasts and how many days of bleeding and pain go with it.
That means I should not feel guilty over whatever medication I choose to take today, and if it leaves me too groggy to go to work in the morning, it’s okay, because I am taking care of myself today and in the here and now while the pain is present.
I spent too many years pushing myself to go to work despite still being in a lot of pain, or being exceedingly groggy from the pain and the medication to treat it. When my body tells me it is ready to return, and that could be tomorrow, then I will return. If it is not ready to return, then I will take the day off. No more of dad’s words in my head, telling me to “crawl in to work if you have to“. No more bullshit in my head from the Celestine Prophesy/The Secret/What The Bleep? cultists out there who say that I’ve manifested my own illness by way of pessimistic thinking or as they call it “Law of Attraction” (I’ve ranted about this in the past).

I’m tired.

I’m tired because of my broken sleep last night. I’m tired of proving myself to the entire world that I really am doing the best I can to treat the illness as it exists in my own meatsack. I’m tired of going through the pain every month, and the side effects of various treatments and medications. I’m tired of losing sunny days to the pain (this is Day 2 of not being able to go out into the warm sunshine and bicycle or go for a walk or run around town with my husband in a care-free manner, enjoying the weekend).

I’m currently at a 3 on the pain scale, with intermittent ass-shooting pain, which takes me up to a 7 on the pain scale. Need more breakfast food. Will report back later.

The clock has already reset. I didn’t want to blog about this at first because it’s embarrassing, but for my own historical record, I really NEED to record this.

My husband and I were not careful enough during intimacy on our anniversary, and as a result, I was afraid of an unwanted pregnancy.

I know, it may seem as strange when the media feeds everyone’s brains with the lie that endometriosis always results in infertility. Furthermore, I’ve not seen anyone in the endometriosis forums bravely declaring that they don’t want children. No, instead the forums and media are filled with stories of women with endo who are also having a hard time trying to conceive, and are distraught over it.
Their situation is real and I feel bad for them. I have stage III endometriosis but I am unfortunately still quite fertile, yet I do not want children. If there were only a way to switch that with someone who wanted kids…

Because of my anxiety that I could become pregnant, I sought out emergency contraceptive (in the U.S. it is known as Plan B, and it is over the counter at the pharmacy to women 18 and older).
I have taken Plan B before, many years ago. I knew that it would make me depressed, and I have established that my body cannot tolerate synthetic hormones. But due to our carelessness, I needed peace of mind, and it was only a one-dose hormonal treatment, so I took the Plan B.

Wed. July 15 - anniversary - unprotected sex.
Thur. July 16 - first dose Plan B at 1:58pm. Within 30 minutes, I developed a gurgly stomach, which turned into stomach cramps and intermittent uterine pain for the rest of the day. I also experienced mild nausea. Heavy fatigue took over by 5pm - I could barely keep my eyes open. Later, I had a poor appetite - I did not want dinner. I forced myself to eat a banana before bed. I took a shower, forced myself to do some mild housework, and went to bed by 9:30pm.
Fri. July 17, 2009 - took last dose at 1:58am. I had crazy dreams all night involving tornadoes, floods, murderous gypsy types and a world of magick and sorcery.
Friday - Sunday was hugely emotional, depressive, moody, and angry for me. I spent much of the time not wanting to interact with my husband or anyone, because I was in such a bad head space to even try saying anything polite. I mean, even my husband was concerned about me, and at times got his feelings hurt, and would react by saying, “hormones.” I seriously agree - I also attribute the moods and anger to the Levonorgestrel.
Tue. July 21 - I had an unexpected sugar crash around noon. I only ever get hypoglycemia right before menses begins, because my hormones are out of whack. Ever since adhering to a gluten and yeast free diet since 2006, I don’t get the hypoglycemic attacks with regularity - ONLY within a few days of menses. So having a sudden sugar crash on July 21 concerned me.
Wed. July 22 - 12:20pm I had another hypoglycemic attack, AND began spotting. It was dark red “dirty blood” and looked a bit coffee ground-like sometimes. There were tiny clots. Shortly after going to the bathroom, the cramps started.

I checked rxlist.com for info:

“Some women may experience spotting a few days after taking Plan B™”.

“The effects of Plan B™ on carbohydrate metabolism are unknown. Some users of progestin-only oral contraceptives (POPs) may experience slight deterioration in glucose tolerance, with increases in plasma insulin…”

I took 600mg Ibuprofen, called my GYN and ordered a refill for Tylenol 3 (I don’t normally let myself run completely out but accidentally did so this time), and took off to the grocery store to get some ready-made foods in case I would be bedridden again.

The spotting lasted all day, and so did the cramps. On the pain scale, I’d rate the cramps as a 4 on the Mankoski Pain Scale. Over the course of the day, I also developed low back pain, but I mostly attributed that to having moved stuff around all day (and yes, I did wear a protection belt for lifting).

Thur. July 23 - I awoke around 5:39am from the pain. I went to the bathroom and found to my dismay that I’m full on bleeding - I filled the bowl with blood. The pain in my lower back became very strong, and I started to get a bit nauseous. The pain level was at 7.5. I took my temperature but it was ‘normal’ (normal for me being around 97.5°F, but I don’t have thyroid issues, so say all the blood tests I’ve gotten for the past ten years… riiiiiight).
I called the makers of Plan B and told them about my experience. They said it was all normal. They said some women spot and others get what looks like a full on period. She even said the level of low back pain and the cramping were normal. Still, she took a basic medical history from me to put it on file so they can have a log of adverse reactions up to date.
By 7pm I was severely depressed with suicidal ideation. I called the Plan B hotline again. They have no studies and no records of anyone ever experiencing depression as a side effect to Levonorgestrel.
Fri. July 24 - I bled through my pad, underwear and bedclothes, and went through a pad an hour since I woke up. The cramps were still persistent, ranging from 4-7 on the scale, and mostly centered in the lower back and vagina, or lowest part of the uterus if anything.
I endured a pelvic exam w/ speculum, which made the cramps worse. I did a pee test. Negative as expected for pregnancy. I was told that I am obviously having a reaction to the hormone from the Plan B, and there’s nothing to do at this point but to ride it out, taking Ibuprofen 3x/day, as it is supposed to help ease up the blood flow. The doc also is supposed to send in a script for some Tylenol 3 - not my usual supply - just a sampling as it were, to get me through this. I am referred back to my GYN, who has not returned any of my phone calls this week.
Had another hypoglycemic attack - at 12:43pm. The third in as many days, around the same time of day.
My GYN office finally called back to tell me that my doctor has sent in my Tylenol 3 prescription, which should be ready today. The office seemed indifferent to my Plan B story, but did say the pain with the bleeding seemed unusual.

I spent all last night into today digging through every diary entry I’ve ever made, be it handwritten or typed to myself in an email or filed somehow or another on my computer, because I know I detailed Plan B side effects before. I just can’t remember anything past a general sense of ‘I got depressed on it’.
With all my searching, I found three instances in the past ten years where I took Plan B, prior to the current run:

July 2001
S M Tu W Th F S
1 2 3 4 5 6 7
8 9 10 11 12 13 14
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
29 30 31

July 11 - got my normal period
July 13 - drove to Tahoe w/ my hubby (who was then my bf)
July 14 and/or 15, 2001: unprotected sex
July 16 - Period ended but I took Plan B anyway. Depressed from having spent money I didn’t really have that weekend, from getting sunburnt, from being careless w/ sex.
July 17 - continued deepening depression.
July 19 - feeling happier emotionally
July 20 - started spotting, then bleeding
July 21 - very heavy bleeding
July 22 - heavy bleeding
July 25 - stopped bleeding
July 26 - severely depressed and angry
Aug 15 - got my normal period late; bedridden from the pain.

December 2001
S M Tu W Th F S
1
2 3 4 5 6 7 8
9 10 11 12 13 14 15
16 17 18 19 20 21 22
23 24 25 26 27 28 29
30 31

Sun. Dec. 9 - Took Plan B (forgot to take 2nd pill). But one pill was enough to depress my central nervous system and I noticed the depression within a day.
Mon. Dec. 10 - took Flexeril to ease the back pain - I’d thrown out my back the week prior.
Mon. Dec. 17 - severely depressed. 3 hour mental breakdown. Convinced I was still riding the depression from the Plan B. My back was better by the 17th, however.

Did not mention bleeding as side effect in my long journal entry on Dec. 17, 2001. However, I had a phone conversation with my ma, who was still going through menopause at the time. I had asked if she could see a doctor to ease the menopause side effects. She said she can’t take hormone pills - they mess with her - make her angry, very bitchy and depressed. She said her older sister, my Aunt J, gets the same way. I told my mom that was VERY good family info to have on record.
It’s already been noted by my mom that several of her sisters had painful periods like I do. Adding sensitivity to hormone pills, and depressions locks it down to a known family history.

Well, you know how people are stupid and history repeats itself…

October 2002
S M Tu W Th F S
1 2 3 4 5
6 7 8 9 10 11 12
13 14 15 16 17 18 19
20 21 22 23 24 25 26
27 28 29 30 31

Tues, Sept. 17 Got my period, which was quite painful
Monday Sept. 23 Had a severe emotional breakdown
Tues, Sept. 24 Sister called and told me she’s pregnant
Sun, Sept. 29 Hubby (then bf) and I fooled around
Tues, Oct 1 Took Plan B, paranoid from fooling around
Fri, Oct 4 My sister arrived from Michigan to visit
Thurs, Oct 10 I became sick; strep
Sun, Oct 13 Sister departed for Mich, I called in sick
Mon, Oct 14 off work sick, went to doctor
Tues, Oct 15 off work sick, got my regular period
Wed, Oct 16 returned to work, still very depressed

Did not mention bleeding as side effect in my journal entry on Oct. 17, 2002. Still trying to find any emails or journal entries from that time frame to see if I talked about bleeding at all.

I’ll be adding the full text of those diary entries at some point, just so I have the history on this site.

I’d like to note for the record that Plan B has the same ingredient that is found in the Mirena IUD, which my gynecologists have been begging me to try since 2006.
Since I cannot even handle low doses of drospirenone and ethinyl estradiol synthetic hormones (as found in birth control pills), and now I know that Levonorgestrel also sets off the depression and rage, there is no way in hell I want a continuous dose of it through the Mirena IUD. I do not want a repeat of 2007, when I became suicidal on Yasmin, thanks.

My husband said he is going to look into getting a vasectomy.

In the meantime, I have to ride the rest of this nightmare out, and then in the next two to three weeks, endure more pain and suffering when my actual period reappears.
I hope that I can once and for all remember two things: be super careful if I don’t want to worry about pregnancy, and never, ever, EVER take Plan B or any synthetic hormone ever again. My husband said he is happy to remind me to never go near hormones again after seeing me get severely depressed from them twice, now.

I stayed home because of the pain and heavy bleeding today. I took a Tylenol 3 and within an hour had to go to sleep. I have no idea how I got through work yesterday because I was on Tylenol 3 then, too. Being at home I guess allows me to just go pass out with freedom.

I was on the couch at first but couldn’t get comfortable - I needed to stretch out my legs and couldn’t, and then my cat was meowing incessantly. So I got up and moved to the bedroom. It took awhile to settle - the Tylenol 3 made me VERY cranky and my anxiety was up again, too.

My first dream entailed me being at some diner somewhere, trying to order something as I sat at a small table near a partition. Suddenly, my left eye began to twitch and droop. Eventually my eye stuck itself shut and couldn’t open, and my vision was getting blurry in the other eye. I couldn’t order when the waitress came to me. I began to panic and went to the restroom. I may have been at Tillie’s diner across town….anyway, when I went to the restroom, I looked in the mirror and my eye was puffed out and stuck mostly shut. I tried to pry my eyelids open and could see my eyeball stuck in a downward position in all its viscous horror.
I then began to get tremors, not just in my eye but my whole head. It felt like a seizure coming on. I ran back into the diner and appealed to the horrified waitress. I asked her to look at me and tell me if I looked okay. The look on her face confirmed that I really wasn’t okay; I wasn’t imagining things. I began to shake, told her I might be having a seizure, and to please call 911.
As she did so, I was somehow able to get on chat or text my husband and ask him to call 911.

When the police officer arrived, I was no longer at the diner, but in a place considered to be my home (it didn’t look at all like my home in real life). I get the feeling I lived alone in this place. The police officer asked me “what seems to be the problem” and looked completely put out to have to have arrived to pick me up. I told him I needed an ambulance and needed to go to the hospital. The cop wasn’t buying my story and said I looked fine. I ran to the mirror and checked my eyes and face. Although the swelling went down a bit, I was still in bad shape. I went back to the police officer and explained to him that I was having seizures and eye twitches and my eye is still sealed shut and I can’t drive in this condition, I need an ambulance NOW!
The officer tried to tell me that maybe if I just wait it out, I’d be fine. The dream ended with me trying to convince him to allow me to go to the hospital.

I can’t remember if that dream flowed into the next or if I’d awakened for a few seconds and drifted back to sleep again.

My second dream had me encountering a kid as I walked back to my house from somewhere. I think I was in Michigan near my first childhood home. The kid was between the age of 10-12, short for his age, curly short black hair but not frizzy or too tightly curly, and darker skinned than me but not ebony. I can’t remember how we first encountered each other on this walk, but he began to follow me and beg. I think he was a homeless kid that everyone in the neighborhood knew. There’d been some teenagers hanging with him who followed us for a few seconds but seeing that I was interacting positively with the kid, let us go on alone. I remember saying something to him about when I was little, then added that he is not little anymore, not like the kids I teach at school.
But the kid got annoying and acted out. I had to pick him up and carry him as though I were carrying a preschooler in my class to the observation chair for having acted out and refusing to go of his own accord to said chair.

Once back at my house, which was very much like my first childhood home, the kid began going through my stuff. There was something that he made fly through the house, a heavy paper object or toy of some sort. We played with that for a few minutes. The house was starkly empty and there was an echo when we talked.
After a few minutes, the kid began trying to steal stuff. I chased him through my house and swatted his hands away from stuff and emptied his pockets and scolded him and told him I’d given him things already, he didn’t have to take MY stuff. This just made him act out even more, in a mad grab session, running through my house.

As I chased him, the house began to get creepy. It began to shake like an earthquake. We ran outside and there was no earthquake. The kid still had stuff belonging to me so I resumed trying to pry stuff from his hands. He wasn’t laughing - he was serious about taking it, and we struggled with each other. I began hitting him. At this point, two young teen boys (probably about 13 years old) came by to check on the younger boy and saw us struggling. They joined in, picking through comic books and games and other stuff that my husband had on some bookshelves just outside of the house, against the exterior wall of the house in the driveway and on the porch. I tried grabbing stuff back from them, too, telling them it belongs to us, it belongs to my husband, it belongs to me, etc…
The younger boy had run off - we’d come to the house from the left side of the street facing the house, and he’d taken off across the lawn to the right side of the house and ran up the street. I tried to chase after him but that’s when I noticed the two older boys, who were now ripping pages out of my husband’s comic books and graphic novels. When I tried to stop them, they explained that the pages are supposed to be ripped out and placed on a laminated mat of some sort. I told them ‘but that’s for my husband to do when he wants to because it’s his!’ but the boys continued.
Enraged, I began hitting them, too. Striking them, bashing them, anything I could do to make them stop taking our STUFF.

That’s when my haunted house began acting up again - things rattling inside, crashing about. I want to say we all went inside and experienced the rumbling shaking of the house, the swinging flickering lights and all that, but it’s fuzzy now upon recollection. Either we all went in or I went in and came back out again. There had been a 12 or 13 year old girl at this point who was also with the boys, also rifling through my STUFF, and I struggled with her, too, attacking her. She got all upset and I told her to go tell her mommy, then. She gave an evil grin and I shrugged and told her I looked forward to the exchange.

I needed to go back into the house and by this time, it was getting dark outside and the lights that were on in the house made a yellow glow. The rooms were dark. I went through the empty house, wondering where all my STUFF had gone. The house smelled like a basement. In fact, perhaps I was in the basement (The house in the dream looked nothing like my real childhood home on the inside). I was in a large room and diagonally to my left there was a doorway leading to the next room. At the far end of that room was a small bathroom, and the light was on, and water was running. I walked towards it.
Something either told me to run BECAUSE it was going to get very scary and possibly a murderer lurked in that back room - one of the kids- or something popped out at me. Either way, I booked it outta there, and began screaming because I knew something was closing in behind me, and fast.

That’s when I woke up, and my eyes felt puffy…

I got out of bed and checked myself in the mirror. Thankfully, I did not look like my first dream…

Have I mentioned how much I hate Tylenol 3’s side effects? The nightmares are caused by me likely not getting enough air, because the codeine has suppressed my respiration.

But of all the meds I’ve tried, I have the least amount of trouble with Tylenol 3.

Regarding the dreams… they do hold meaning, drug induced or not. I’ve been having a problem with my left eye spasming for about two months, now. The spams are minor but I need to talk to a doctor about it, because magnesium and potassium, which I was once told would help with that, has not. I have a doctor appointment this Saturday.

The cop not taking me seriously in the dream is directly attributable to the secretary at my GYN office who I spoke with this morning. I was explaining that I’d like to speak to or see my GYN because I’ve had abnormal periods since February, and also having endo, I’d like to just get checked out to make sure nothing bad is going on. She totally brushed me off and said cycles change as one gets older and it’s nothing to worry about. She didn’t believe I had endo and asked me accusingly, “Are you DIAGNOSED with endo??”
Uh, yeah lady, stage III, and it’s been two years since surgery, and the shit grows back, so piss off already. I wanted to say that, but instead I shot back, “Yes, Stage III, diagnosed in 2007.”
She put me on hold, came back and said, “so you’re having pain?”
I retorted, “LOOK, I *always* have pain, it’s what happens with endo. This has nothing to do with the pain. It’s the cycle switching up on me when for many years it NEVER DID THAT.”

She said she’d leave a message for the GYN to call me back. Bitch.

So yeah, the cop not taking me seriously in the dream? Same bitch.

I don’t know about the stuff being stolen or about the kids in the second dream. I never hit children, though older children like the ones in my dream, I have to say it is difficult to work with them. That’s why I only choose to work with the wee ones.

Being chased by the kids or the haunted house towards the end of the dream may refer back to my recent job harassment, or may stem from a jealousy issue I’ve been wrestling with.

DreamMoods says, “To dream that you have been robbed, denotes that you are experiencing an identity crisis or you are suffering some sort of loss in your life. Alternatively, you may feel that someone has stolen your success or has taken credit for something you did.”
Again, tied to the job harrassment because I left one career field after harassment, went back to my old career, and have been getting harassed there, and now I don’t know what to do with my life, what career options I have, how I’ll make it financially, etc.

DreamMoods also says, “To dream that you a seizure, suggests that you need to have more control in your life.”
Yeah well lots of dream topics end up translating to that.

DreamMoods says, “To dream that you are being haunted, indicates early unpleasant traumas and repressed feelings or memories. You are experiencing some fear or guilt about your past activities and thoughts.”

*sigh*

And now the cramps are back again.

George arrived on Sunday, March 8 at 6:48pm. I’d been cleaning the house all afternoon in preparation for george, and documenting it for YouTube.

I’d been documenting different parts of the video all day as ideas and the script came to me, and getting excited as to how all the parts would fit together at time of edit. This was the first video I was creating that would have a soundtrack and voice over parts, and my confidence level was high - I would figure out how to put it all together in iMovie.

I was in the bedroom, photographing the stuff I would use to entertain myself with while bedridden, when suddenly my face and ears flushed. I felt stingingly hot and winded. I went to the bathroom and there was george - a day early. There was bright spotting at first, and the pelvic cramping returned. I immediately popped 600mg ibuprofen, dropped everything I was doing around the house, and zoomed off to the store to finish grocery shopping.

By the time I returned home an hour later, the pelvic pain was at 6.5 on the Mankoski Pain Scale. I can’t recall but I think I took Tylenol 3 before bed that night.

On Monday, I went from bright spotting to dark brown spotting, and then it turned bright red by evening time. I note this because all through 2008, I had dark brown coffee ground type material on my first two to three days of menses before the heavy bright red flow set in. And then it was November 7, 2008 when I was diagnosed with a 4cm ovarian cyst, which left me very ill throughout the month of November. I went on a detox diet for liver and kidneys that month, and by the end of November, the cyst had shrunk to 1.6cm.
I’ve had dark brown spotting on and off since November. I’ve only had one month so far that menses started off bright red and stayed that way throughout.
A healthy menstrual cycle is supposed to be nice and bright from day one of menstruation. The dark stuff means something not right is going on inside, such as a cyst. So I keep track of the colouration every month, now.

Going back further in time a bit - after my last day working over in Daly City, on Friday, March 6, I went to a health food store I always frequented when I used to live in that area ten years ago. I picked up some liquid iron supplement, and also purchased iron supplement pills. I spoke at length with the dietician running the register, and he told me that for my condition, my doctor would probably put me on 1,800mg “of the harsh stuff”, meaning the really constipating iron tabs. He sold me stuff that’s supposed to be much more gentle on the stomach and intestines. I’ve been taking the iron since Saturday, March 7th: 100mg per day of the capsules and 4tbsp (20ml) per day of the liquid stuff.
That is to say, I’ve been taking three times the recommended dosage of the capsules, and two times the recommended dosage of the liquid, because I lose so much blood every month, and because a year ago last April, when I was in the emergency room, I was told I may need a blood transfusion with all the blood I’d lost (I declined treatment, I just wanted to go home cuz I’d had a horrible hospital experience).

Tuesday is when the cycle got very heavy and painful. That day was the Full Moon. My pain level was at a 7-8 all day on the pain scale. I went through a lot of Tylenol 3 that day. So much in fact that I’d wager to say I overdosed a bit, because by evening time I had mild hallucinations and found it difficult to breathe. Despite having taken so much Tylenol 3, I was highly productive on Tuesday. Being that high allowed me to dissociate from the pain and work on my YouTube video quite a bit.

On Wednesday, I woke from a medication-induced nightmare which left me on edge for much of the morning because it involved friends disowning me. The pain and bleeding was moderately heavy, but it fluctuated all day. I ranged from a 4 to a 7.5 on the pain scale for much of the day, but despite that, I was very tired and listless all day. I refused pain medication for much of the day because I didn’t like how much I’d taken the day before. It wasn’t until around 9:30pm that I resumed taking Tylenol 3, because the pain and bleeding ramped up again. I went to bed feeling 8 on the pain scale.

Thursday is when I had my Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.
First off, I woke up from another medication-induced nightmare in which tornadoes, my father, my husband and some friends were involved.
But I fully expected to feel better after having two heavy pain and bleedy days. This was not the case. If you can believe it, the bleeding was even heavier than the previous two days. I was soaking a pad an hour, I was dizzy, off balance, disoriented. I took my pain meds and considered whether I should go to hospital emergency. Every time I stood up or adjusted my position, I soaked a pad.
I had just stood up and had picked up my bottle of orange juice, when the lid popped off and the bottle fell from my hands, splashing all over the place. It wasn’t even 10:30am yet. I wrote about it after cleaning everything up, but my bad day didn’t end, there. After cleaning up the mess, my pain got considerably worse of course, what with all the stooping, bending and mopping I had done. I took my rice heating pads to the kitchen to heat them up in the microwave, and shrieked.

Ants!

We’ve been having trouble with ants for the past few weeks, and have tried several remedies. The ants always find a new way into the house. In the two and a half years we’ve lived here, we’d never had ant invasions until this year. Because of the recurring ant invasions, I’ve come to scrutinize any room I enter before going about my business in that room. This means that I had just been in the kitchen less than an hour prior to my re-entry, and there were no ants. And yet here they were now, a full busy highway of them. They had found my cats’ water dish but surprisingly not their kibble. They were having an all out pool party in the water bowl. Miscellaneous ants crawled about the kitchen, checked out the liquor shelf, and cruised alongside the bottom of the refrigerator. The source of their entry was through an opening in the cabinets below the kitchen counter. This is the area - that entire back wall of the kitchen - in which the ants have been trying to come in through various sources for weeks, now. They’ve even tried coming in through light switches.

Upon entering the kitchen and seeing this, I put down my heating pads and sobbed. I had to clean up this mess NOW, or else I’d go mad, and the ants would be in the cat food and in the fridge within minutes.

Good thing I’d already popped a second Tylenol 3.

I set to work with the ‘Bugs R Done’ orange spray. After coating the kitchen in that stuff, I opened windows to air out the house, and mopped up ant carcasses. To the latest entry point, I applied ‘Ant Eater’ brand anticide, which contains diatomaceous earth and clove oil. I then stripped down and took a nice hot shower. While showering, several ants streamed out of the towel rack in the shower and began running up and down the shower wall.
I sobbed and sobbed. Depression set in full force at this point.

My husband came home early from work, bringing peppermint and cinnamon oils in tow. He moved the fridge out, cleaned up under it, and we applied soaked cotton full of the oils to various potential ant entry points around the kitchen.

I went to bed early last night - around 9:30pm - as the bleeding tapered off. I laid in bed first listening to progressive relaxation tapes, then reading The Witching Hour - a book I first fell in love with back in 1995. I had three heating pads on various parts of my body. I finally was able to get to sleep around midnight.

We’ve not had any further ants and hopefully it’ll stay that way.

Today I am feeling better. I’m back to spotting again. I have mild to moderate low back pain. The problem today is that around 9am this morning I had black, bloody stools. This is important to note in relation to my iron supplement discussion above, because it is a sign of iron toxicity. Insofar as symptoms go, I also have metallic taste in my mouth, and a headache. So I’ll be laying off the iron supplements altogether until I see my doctor. I have an appointment today at 2:45pm.

Tomorrow, I’ll be up in Calistoga for an all day spa event for a bride-to-be. I’m a bridesmaid in her wedding next month, and so we are treating ourselves and the bride to massages, swimming, relaxing, and dinner. We’ll cap off the night with a girly slumber party and then come back home on Sunday.

This Monday, it’s the 16-year anniversary of a local nightclub, and so my husband and I will be heading out to that.

Coming up this Tuesday, I have an appointment with Social Security Disability Insurance, which will likely be a waste of my time. I set up the appointment yesterday in the throes of my depression, because I am feeling unemployable again due to the fact that I have just missed another week of potential work, and I can’t shake it from my head that the last job might have continued had I not been out sick for nearly a full week every month, and the daycare agency never called me back when I asked to be reinstated (that’s the same agency that told me “I knew it! Every time I need you you are not available!” in August, 2008, because they seemed to only call me on a monthly basis, and when I was bedridden).

I talked to state disability yesterday. They told me that per their rules, they can only pay out a maximum of 55% of one’s paycheck, which means one must be inable to work for more than 14 days out of each month. Because I can work 23-26 days out of each month, I do not qualify as disabled per their requirements. So although I am potentially unemployable due to my health conditions, I fall through the cracks for state assistance. I was referred by state to federal. I know that will be a joke, too, but at least they’ll take time to interview me rather than just deny me outright.

This Tuesday, I also have an interview for a nanny position. I know I will ace the interview because I am confident in my skills and educational background. But I am not confident I will get the job once they find out about my health condition. I go back and forth on the issue of whether or not to divulge my health condition.
We’ll see how it goes.

Next Saturday, I’ve got an appointment to get my hair coloured. I’ve not done anything colour-wise with my hair since the wedding five months ago. I’ve been letting all the colour and length grow out so I can get the copper and red tones I originally wanted before that one hairstylist screwed up my hair just weeks before our wedding last year. The woman I’ll be seeing next Saturday is the miracle worker who fixed what the other hairdresser had done to me.

Apparently I won’t learn to take better care of myself anytime soon…

I was still an anxiety case and not tired at all during my last entry, so I took a teaspoonful of codeine cough syrup to make me drowsy. I figured since it had an expiration date of 2007 on it, that it would be a weak sedative at best. I figured it was more a psychological crutch than anything.
I was wrong.
I woke from a nightmare as my husband was readying for bed sometime after midnight. I had been babysitting a child - the parents came home from their night out and they were drunk. Instead of payment, they gave me all sorts of infant toys they’d just bought, and slurred drunkenly at me about their time out that night. I thanked them for the toys and eventually was able to bring them round to the topic of payment. I told them what my hourly rate is and even decided to state a range in case they were not so flush with cash after their stupid shopping and drinking spree. The mother paused, looked at me nearly cross-eyed, and stated I’d have to talk to her husband, as she did not have any cash. So I phrased the same to her husband. He went from smiling drunk to the look of belligerence. His tone became cold and he stated that he just didn’t have ANY money to pay me with, that they’d just bought me all this stuff…
Oh sure I see, now I’m an ungrateful bitch. Okay, nevermind, well I’ve got to go! Be seeing you! And I made my way out the door with a forced smile and bid them goodnight.
I got out to their driveway, which was more like an unkempt alley with bumps and potholes. The alley bordered a muddy grassy area along an old rickety wooden privacy fence. In some places, there was no longer any wood - instead I saw the metal fence, and behind it some more homes (this actually exists - not outside of the crazy family’s house but behind the converted warehouse space our friends live in. We’d just seen them Saturday night).
I looked for my car and became panicked when I didn’t see it in the spot I’d left it a couple of hours earlier. I walked up and down the alley looking for my car, and on my way back I found it - my car had dropped into a sinkhole! I hadn’t even heard this happen! Some of the wooden and metal fencing had fallen down on top of my car in the sinkhole, and my car looked to be in bad shape. I wanted to melt down right there. I tried calling my husband but got a wrong number. I tried again and reached him but he seemed indifferent to my problems. It was an effort to get him to come pick me up.
Next thing I knew, a crew was on the scene raising my car from the sinkhole. Dunno if I’d called them or neighbors did, but neighbors had come out to watch. I talked with a neighbor about how a policeman had just told me I could sue the adjacent property for lack of upkeep and maintenance on the land on which my car had been parked. Turns out the property was a big house converted into many apartment units, and the person I was talking to not only lived in that property as a tenant, but owned it. So now he was tipped off to my intentions and he brusquely walked away from me.
I can’t remember if I started to walk home after inspecting my car and deeming it a lost cause for the moment, or if my husband finally arrived to pick me up. The neighborhood had now turned into the neighborhood I lived in during early childhood back in Michigan.
I can’t remember much about the dream during this phase. I know I ended up back at our house, which was built on stilts at the top of a cliff overlooking a large body of water.
Next thing I remember is being in the house with my mother and brother present, and the house begins to shake. I look out the window and see multiple tornadoes coming in off the water. I try to gather everyone but I can’t find my mother or my husband. My brother is slow to the news at first, but picks up on the urgency and danger and starts looking for shelter with me.
The dream ends with the house exploding from the force of the many tornadoes. We all die.
I watch the remainder of the dream as a viewer rather than participator. A neighbor in the area is picked up by one of the twisters and flies through the air, down the hill to the neighborhood below, where he is set back down and takes off running down the street in panic.

End dream.

Dream influences:

The crazy family: I had an interview earlier in the day on Sunday with a crazy family, so this is how they entered into my nightmare.

Tornadoes: for me tornadoes in dreams always mean big change is coming. I already know I’m losing my job in two weeks. What change beyond that is coming just makes me more uneasy. Examples of change in my real-life past from having tornado dreams: moving to California on a few weeks’ notice. A boyfriend suddenly breaking up with me and ordering me out on threat of harm to my cats, after we’d spent five tumultuous years together.

9:30am update: More ants in the kitchen right before I had to leave for work early this morning. They’re still finding ways to come down from the interior walls behind the cupboards.

I hate life right now.

I just woke up nauseated and cramping badly, and feeling hungry.

Sometimes the Tylenol 3 makes me nauseous. Most often, it gives me false hunger pains. And sometimes the pain leaks through despite being medicated.

Then again, the last time I took any meds was almost 3 hours ago, so I assume that it’s also time for another dose.

I also had more nightmares. I was in a daycare trying to put children down for nap. The children were children I’d cared for 15 years ago back in Michigan. Nobody would listen and I found myself shouting at them. At one point I’d had it and left my co-teacher alone with all the kids in the room, and went for a walk.
I got about three blocks from the daycare and decided I should turn back around. But suddenly, no matter which route I took, I ended up further and further away. I hopped on a bus or light rail train, thinking I could get back to the daycare quicker, but when I was let off the train, I found that I was now up by 16 Mile road (in Michigan). Panicked, I walked faster and faster, trying to find out what had happened, trying to get to a place I remembered, so I could get back to work on time. It was all very anxiety-inducing.

The dream shifted from that to an actual real life memory of being down in the basement at the house my first sex partner was staying at. He was mad at me for terminating a pregnancy I did not want, and ending the relationship with him because he’d lied to me about purposefully knocking me up. He held a shotgun to my head. I ran upstairs away from him in sheer screaming terror, and tried to dial 911 on the phone at the top of the stairs. He grabbed me from behind, grabbed the phone from me, bashed the phone receiver into the wall, turned me around, grabbed my neck, slammed my head into the wall a few times and choked me. Then he stepped back and calmly announced he was going back downstairs to get the shotgun and take care of both of us. I ran from the house, got into my car and drove home in hysterics.

That is a real life memory.

I threw open my eyes and blinked rapidly and breathed deeply to force the memory to fade away again.

I get this unexpected flashback every now and then. All I can do is breathe and push it away.

The flashback caused even more anxiety and I think is what brought the cramps. The books I have on Endometriosis state that since the uterus is hormone-rich, whenever something happens to set off a hormonal surge in the body, the uterus is also involved. And for someone with Endometriosis, this is bad news, because when the hormones set off their signals, it also activates the hormone-rich adhesions on organs outside of the uterus. Those organs in turn set off their pain receptors, because they think something is attacking them. And voìla, that’s how I get to be in so much pain and gushing bleeding.

So of course at this moment, all I can think of is THANKS A LOT, DIPWAD. I STILL KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE. I STILL KEEP TABS ON YOUR SKANKY ASS. I STILL DON’T FORGIVE YOU, YOU EFFING BASTARD. ONE DAY I’LL JUST STOP BY AND GET ALL KILL BILL ON YOU.

…and I breathe…

because anger sets off a hormonal wave again…

You see how it goes…

Good times.

I spent all day yesterday, from about 10am onwards in bed, because that’s when the pain started. I had cramps throughout the day but I remember my last onset of cramps was about 9:30 - 10pm last night.
And then this morning again at 9:45am. I keep wondering about this 12-hour cycle my body tends to go in with its cramping.

So much research still to do. Must make the time for it.

I *still* haven’t posted the research from fatty cells I was looking up last week. I had no idea that fat cells *produce* estrogen. Why did I not know this? The books I have on Endometriosis tell me this. I just retained the info til now. I need to finish typing up that entry and share it.