Day 4 of mittelschmerz!

WTF!!! I thought mittelschmerz was supposed to last UP TO 48 hours! We’re at 96 hours of worsening pain!

It started on Tuesday. The pain was centered low in the uterus. That makes sense since the endo that was left behind at time of surgery is on the bottom of the uterus where it meets the bladder. The pain was mild but annoying, as it usually is during ovulation.

On Wednesday, the mild pain ramped up by afternoon to moderate and very annoying. I devloped low back pain and was very tired. At work, it hurt to pick up the baby. However, I did not take any pain medication. I wanted the pain meds but I kept putting it off, because I wanted to drink wine with my friends later that night.

For pain management, I began doing the pelvic exercises and slow stretching throughout the day.

However, I got so mad at my body for putting me in moderate pain. I got into that “nothing I do will ever stop the pain and the progression of this illness” mentality again.
So when I was with my friends Wednesday night, I drank not one but four glasses of wine.

On Thursday, the moderate pain continued, same as it was on Wednesday. I wanted pain meds but again I kept putting it off, because I get tired of all the pain pills I have to take. I wonder what hurts my body more, 23 years of taking up to 1,200mg ibuprofen a couple times a day when the pain hits, or drinking wine? I mean, come on…
More pelvic exercises and slow stretching throughout the day.
The pain was so bad on the way home that I went into dissociation mode. My face dropped, my eyes stayed straight ahead and were out of focus, and I just … drove.
By bedtime I wanted Tylenol 3 but again I put it off, instead grabbing for my friend’s progressive relaxation tapes he loaned me.

This morning I woke up groggy, even though I went to bed a full hour or more earlier than I’d done all week. I was slow and tired. The cramps ramped up again on the way to work.
Before 8:30am I gave in and took 600mg ibuprofen.

I think the reason I fight so hard against taking meds when I’m not on my cycle is precisely BECAUSE I’m not on my cycle. It’s not time yet dammit! I shouldn’t BE this way!
So I deny myself the meds and push through it with the mentality that this will pass because I’m not on my cycle and besides, the pain is a 3 to 4 on the Mankoski pain scale.
I end up declaring to myself, “This!? This is nothing! When on my cycle, I’m at an 8 or higher!”

But this morning, I couldn’t take it any longer. This has been going on for four days!!! WTF!!!

The pain just makes me want to cry because not only has it been going on for 4 days, it’s that the pain returned just 8 days after my period ended. And the pain is just dull, looming, constant, spread out.

To describe it emotionally, it’s like the feeling a child has when they can’t get their way, and they stew for a moment, then stick out their bottom lip, then melt down. Or to place the emotions as an adult…picture it like this: you’re told after having worked 8 hours without a lunch that mandatory overtime has just gone into effect…again… and you can’t leave for another 2 hours…and this is day 4 of management doing this to you.

To physically describe the pain, it is not in my ovaries, which is what normally happens with mittelschmerz. It’s been low and centered in the bottom of my uterus where it meets the bladder. I have the low dull feel a woman might experience with a bladder infection starting. But this isn’t a bladder infection – it’s just how my endometriosis behaves.
The pain as of yesterday began spreading to my anus. It’s not shooting pain – that happens when I’m on my period.

I guess the closest I can think to describe the pain coupled with emotions again would be a hang nail or paper cut that is ever constant and enough to drive you mad – or the feeling of being constipated and not being able to have a bowel movement for 4 days or more – THAT feeling – and that alone can drive you mad.

Yes yes, I called my GYN and left a message.

It’s been 4 hours. I’m taking 600mg ibuprofen again.
I’m beat down. It’s sunny outside and I could take the baby for a walk in the steep-hilled neighborhood. I may be viewed as a slacker if I don’t take her outside for a bit, which in turn makes me feel guilty and brings up the resentment for things this family has said to me over the months regarding how my illness impacts their careers.


I was telling the mother about how some friends want me to go into business running a daycare. Her sister in law runs a daycare, so we talked shop for a few minutes. The mother then told me I’d need to make sure to hire someone who could always be there and be reliable.
I was taken aback. I replied with, “yeah I’d definitely need a co-director because of my illness”.

There is a large rant there but I don’t have time for it.

People who suffer what I suffer already know the rant because they live with such insults all the time, too.

I am reliable when my illness doesn’t claim me. I gave full disclosure at the outset, including time off monthly. They decided to hire me anyway.

Dammit, I don’t feel well.

I’m ready to cry on the job.

I don’t feel well.

1pm update: The on-call GYN called back and we discussed all the symptoms at length. She had my history and everything. I am so thankful. She said it’s likely not mittelschmerz but an endo flareup.
She said that if i am not better by Sunday, I am to call the emergency on call doc and go back in for yet another ultrasound to check for more cysts.

She addressed my fears about being flagged for using too much Tylenol 3, and authorised me to take the Tylenol 3 as needed (I can’t on the job though). She said my regular GYN would see the note in my file and would have no prob prescribing more before it’s time again, should I run out.
Instead of absent-mindedly saying ‘have a good weekend’ before hanging up, like the receptionist and everyone else does, this GYN said, “hang in there.” I nearly cried – I’ve been on the verge of tears all day but that almost did me in for sure.

mittelschmerz time again

Yesterday I got mittelschmerz. Yesterday the pain was centered low and up front and center in my pelvic region. Once again, the pain hit exactly 8 days after my last period, and exactly 14 days before the next period is due. This is my fourth month of recording this mid-cycle pain. You’d think that by age 37 I’d have known my body well enough and would have pinned the mid-cycle pain years ago. Alas, no. I’ve known for years I get mittelschmerz, but until now I thought it was willy-nilly. Now I see it has a set pattern. Well, and I guess I was much more in the dark as to symptoms until recent years, since I was also living in constant symptomatic food allergy reaction, which didn’t help with the mittelschmerz or the endometriosis.

Okay okay I’m not a big dummy. I’m a smartie for figuring this out at all! Yeah!

Last night, the pain spread to my lower back, and I took 600mg Ibuprofen for it. Mittelschmerz for me lasts 2-3 days. I had extensive adhesions and endometriosis on my left ovary at the time of surgery in 2007. My surgeon had to pry my ovary off the back of my uterus, because the endometriosis adhesions had twisted it around and stuck it there over many years. I still get most of my ovarian pain and ovarian cysts on the left side.

This morning, the pain spread to both ovaries, and now I’m feeling pain from my vagina to my vulva and it’s trying to extend to my left upper leg.
I’m also really tired, though I still managed to take the baby I care for for an hour-long stroller ride yesterday..up hill both ways where I work…

Today, not the case. No stroller rides. I’m beat. Doesn’t help that I’m not giving myself enough sleep at night. I’m falling into the trap that a lot of endometriosis bloggers do – “Must get info out NOW! People must know about this NOW! The timing is critical!”
I spoke with fellow blogger Melissa via facebook today – even when she is in the worst shape herself, she was able to give advice and help another (read: me!) to stop stressing so much. She’s a very strong woman. We endo sufferers are stronger than most, I must say.
I’m super glad I am now getting to know some of these warrior women online.

Still not getting it

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.

My husband being difficult: this is a result of me having my husband stay home last night from his Sunday night game night on account of me having had a real breakdown earlier in the day. He clearly did not want to stay but I lectured him about constantly being out with his friends for gaming conventions and impromptu game nights on top of his Sunday night thing, because he’s neglecting housework and post-wedding duties that sorely need to be wrapped up (post-wedding meaning we still haven’t gone through our hardcopy photos to assemble into albums for us and family.

The house on the cliffs: the home I work in through the week is up at the end of a steep hill with a view of the ocean. It takes only about ten minutes to walk down to the cliffs overlooking the ocean, and it’s been raining for the past week. I’ve been enjoying watching the storms come in off the water. Although in California, “storms” means simply, “light to moderate rainfall”.

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.

What coffee does to me

On Friday, as a sort of treat to myself, I went to my favourite coffee shop. I had planned to be up late on Friday and was very tired, so I thought caffination would be my best option. And it might have been had I just came straight home and had Irish tea instead of coffee.

But no, I not only had coffee, I had TRIPLE espresso.

Now here’s the thing – please refer to my No Fly List – I’m not supposed to have caffeine, nor am I supposed to have anything in the bean family. Coffee is made from coffee beans and I DO react to them.

WTF was I thinking? My rationale at the time was:

  • Want treat!
  • Can’t get my usual mocha because I’m not supposed to have cow’s milk so I know! How about straight up espresso then!
  • Wow that’s only a little bit for a single, that won’t do. I’ll take a triple and just sip it over time.


I wasn’t able to sleep til 3am Saturday and then I was only able to stay asleep for five hours before getting up for the day.

The first thing I noticed Saturday morning was how badly ALL my joints ached and throbbed. I have confirmed osteoarthritis in my cervical spine, my thoracic spine and my knees (with crepitus also present in the knees). All these areas were KILLING me starting Saturday morning.

My blood sugar was wonky for all of Saturday. I didn’t want to eat because my stomach and intestines felt gutted and pock-marked from the coffee. So the hypoglycemia got worse and I got a bad headache. And then my knuckles and cuticle-area of my fingers began to split open and bleed, which happens EVERY TIME I eat anything in the legume family.

The depression and anxiety set in today.

I went grocery shopping this afternoon, and became quite bitter over two things:

  1. The scarcity and choice of gluten-free, dairy-free, high fructose corn syrup-free products that don’t taste like ass.
  2. Why gluten-free, dairy-free etc products must cost an arm and a leg.

I mean, I know WHY such products cost an arm and a leg – it costs a tad more to produce, and the companies realise that by making it a ‘specialty’ item, they can also cash in with extra profit because they are greedy assholes.

But for chrissakes people, if you’re going to make a cheese that is lactose-free, WHY IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY DO YOU HAVE TO PUT HIGH FRUCTOSE CORN SYRUP IN IT?!?!

I found myself exclaiming aloud, “CORN SYRUP?!? Oh you have GOT to be fecking kidding me!” and I threw the cheese back down and walked off. As I walked off, a man looked up from his shopping to see what I was on about, and peered over at the cheese in question. GOOD. I hope he gets on a rant, too.

I was also disturbed to discover that my favourite brand of chunk light tuna fish, which is packed in water, also contains soy. WHY did I never see this before? It’s because I trusted the front of the can – when it says it’s packed in WATER, I trusted that it’s JUST water, not ALSO “vegetable broth (soy)” as listed in the ingredients on the back of the can!

First off, I can’t have soy. Soy can’t be trusted to not be genetically modified. Soy is in the legume family and I am allergic to legumes – I get atopic dermatitis flareups. Soy contains phytoestrogens, which are bad for people with endometriosis.

Secondly, eating tuna packed in water vs. vegetable oil is healthier for you because it contains less calories and fat.

Third, tuna packed in water retains more omega-3 oils than tuna packed in vegetable oil.

This is my life – I constantly have to recheck foods I’ve previously approved because I end up missing something, or there’s been a reduction in quality to save a few bucks and cheaper/dangerous ingredients have been added or substituted.

I had to go through all the cans of tuna on the shelves to find any that might have ONLY TUNA AND WATER and no other added ingredients. I had to literally sit on the floor as if in a library, checking out the books on the bottom shelf. Ugh.
I finally found canned tuna in water and water only, but it was only 4.5oz rather than the usual 6oz can.

Of course, the can of tuna that does not contain additional destructive ingredients but contains roughly ⅙ less amount of tuna is twice the price as the other cans of tuna. It comes in a fancy gold can, and is branded with a heart logo which reads “natural source of OMEGA-3” and “VERY LOW SODIUM”.
Further, it’s not the tuna I want. It’s not chunk light tuna. It’s albacore tuna, which contains more mercury than light meat tuna.

So let’s get this straight… you’re telling me to choose between SOY added to my tuna, or mercury poisoning?


My mental stability began to degrade further at this point. I talked out loud again, cursing the fact that I now have to spend more money even for my tuna, just because of my health issues.

To top it all off, when I got home from the grocery store, I found more ants in the kitchen.

I had a full on crying breakdown at that point.

I’ve spent the past week not eating in the house because the sight of ants takes away my appetite. It’s winter in California, therefore everyone’s house is under attack by tiny ants. It’s just how it goes.
I’ve been grabbing what little food I’ve had left in the fridge and taking it with me to work this past week – eating breakfast on the way or when I get in to work. When I got home from work, I didn’t eat dinner, or I went out to eat instead.
I thought two applications of borax/sugar gel from the exterminator (he showed up for a second time this past week), and all the orange ‘Bugs R Done’ spray I’ve been applying would surely have killed those suckers off by now.
But no.

So I was not eating, and at night I was suffering nightmares of waking up with ants on my face. Then I top off the week with a deadly treat.

Nice going.

So here I am, supposed to be in bed, and I’m not tired, and I have anxiety, and my entire spine from top to bottom is aching.

All because I had coffee on Friday.

I want to stay up all night researching the biology and mechanics of caffeine on the system, so I can blog about it on the main site, but I can’t. It’s one more thing to add to my extensive list of things to research for myself and others, so we have more than “I was told I should stay away from this” and really know WHY we MUST stay away from it.

You’d think that after nearly nine years of diet modification and identifying foods that make things worse for me, that I’d have developed enough discipline to stay away from those bad foods. Instead, I’ve just become bitter and resentful, and every now and then I cry out “I deserve a treat dammit! I want that tasty food too!”
And I suffer the consequences. I’m not really saying I deserve a treat after all, am I?

What I’m really saying is that I think it’d be a fine day to punish myself. Wow I’m feeling GREAT, I think I’ll give myself a nasty food reaction. Yeah! Now doesn’t that feel better!

My cousin, who has end stage hepatitis C, is totally right. He was ranting to me about similar in recent months. He said, “We could be dyin’ from a bullet wound and shoot ourselves again. Hey that’s not enough pain, gimme a knife!”


When will I learn.

Awesome NPR Perspective

I can’t get this out of my head and it’s a good thing! It’s positive and reinforcing.

Yesterday on the way home from work, I was listening to National Public Radio (NPR) and my favourite series came on – Perspective. It features someone telling a real life story to give others perspective in their own lives. I collect the podcasts to this series as well.

I almost cried on the way home from work as I listened to yesterday’s perspective. I wrote about it on my main website when I got home, but I want to share it here, too.

The Notepad
Wed, Feb 18, 2009 — 7:37 AM
Evan Sagerman’s wife was seriously ill, but doctors couldn’t — or wouldn’t — help her.

In the small examination room, my wife sat on the table, furiously taking notes.

The doctor looked at my wife’s notebook. The doctor said that when she sees a notebook like that, she knows she’s dealing with a neurotic patient – the kind of patient who reads too much on the Internet.

The doctor then talked to my wife about her illness, pausing now and again to allow my wife’s note-taking to catch up.
I appreciated the doctor’s polite pauses but, this was the wrong doctor. This doctor saw my wife in her notebook, but she had no idea what she was looking at.

My wife’s health began to fail when she was in her early twenties. Over a period of five years, she went from doctor to doctor, and from diagnosis to diagnosis. She was told that she had allergies, that she had autoimmune disease, that she was normal, that she should be on steroids, that it was all in her head.

Meanwhile, she steadily grew worse.

Having an undiagnosed chronic illness is like being perched on top of Mt. Everest – you’re still on the planet, but you’re not well-moored. The air doesn’t have enough oxygen in it – you know you have to get back down to a lower elevation if you want to stay alive. Only you don’t know how.

Her notebook is where my wife recorded everything; seemingly unrelated symptoms, meetings with doctors, therapies and medications tried.

What ice axes and crampons, down jackets and ropes are to climbers, that notebook was to my wife. It was the tool for her descent back to safety, if she was going to descend at all.

Refusing to give up, my wife met with yet another doctor. She consulted her notebook as she gave her long medical history.

This doctor listened carefully to her lists of strange symptoms, test results and therapies tried.

When she was done, he said he knew what was wrong with her. He said he could help. And he did.

It’s taken years for my wife to slowly climb down from her airless peak, but she has.

A climb she accomplished, clutching her notebook.

With a perspective, I’m Evan Sagerman.

Six Things That Make Me Smile

I was tagged by fellow endometriosis blogger Jeanne last week, and I’m able to reply now that I’m out of the black pit of pain and being bedridden! That alone should count for smiles I think!

So here goes… Six Things That Make Me Smile

1. The sound of my husband’s voice and the silly things he says.

2. My cats purring.

3. The smell of the datura flowers blooming on a summer evening. There’s a huge datura bush right outside our front window.

4. Seeing the progress a child under my care makes at any given task.

5. Getting updates of pictures of my niece and nephews (they live over 2,000 miles away from me).

6. People constantly being shocked that I’m the age that I am, because they think I’m 10 years younger.

The rules are that I’m supposed to link back to the person who tagged me (check) and tag other people in this entry.
I’m not going to tag anyone cuz I’m lame. Feel free to consider yourself tagged if you are reading this and have not done this meme, yet!

Catching up

Last week I got george three days early. This happened in the middle of the work week, and I noticed that the dark old blood was back again. Last month was the only month in over a year now that I did not have the dark old blood. So I wonder again, what’s going on inside of me? Is another ovarian cyst growing?
Ugh. I hate guessing. I want a full body scanner to read out exactly what’s going on, dammit!!!

Anyway, I notified the people I nanny for and was asked to please try to come in to work. I medicated with 800mg Ibuprofen and went to work. I did okay on Wednesday, February 11. I went to work again on Thursday, February 12. However, the pelvic pain set in. I was still only spotting the dark stuff at that point. I took 800mg Ibuprofen twice during my shift (every 4 hours). I was so tired I could barely function – this is what the endometriosis does to me. Even bending down to pick up a toy for cleanup time gets me winded and exhausted to no end. Climbing stairs with an 11-month old on my hip made me just want to collapse from weakness.
I told the parents I work for that I would not be any good to come in on Friday, February 13th. Thankfully, the mom had already planned to stay home that day in case I was a day early. Thankfully being three days early still allowed me to work two out of three. Jeez.

Friday I stayed home and that’s when the real bleeding and pain set in. I was bedridden all day. We had plans that night to see Cinematic Titanic – my husband was really looking forward to this because he’s such a huge fan of the people behind the production. They’re the ones who also did Mystery Science Theatre 3000 (MST3K in case you’ve been living under a rock). I didn’t want the pain to get me down so I told my hubby I’d still go with him.

Well, apparently he didn’t know the area we were going to very well, or forgot, or was so blinded by his desire to see this show that he lost sight of the fact that I’d been bedridden all day. I told him while we were still parking that this is a hilly area, and I was not in any shape for climbing hills. He parked the car in a local garage, we got out and BAM I was right – hills. I got very depressed and angry. I told him I wanted to cry. He kept looking upwards and onwards to that destination up the San Francisco hill. So I told him in my weak shakey voice that he could have dropped me off at the entrance. I told him I’m about to cry and that I feel taken advantage of for his own selfish desires.
He hung his head. He asked if I wanted to just turn back now. I defiantly told him NO, that he wasn’t going to put this guilt on me like that. He slouched as we walked. I knew he wanted to see the damned Cinematic Titanic. I knew he’d be bitter if I made him turn around now, a block and a half away from our destination. I took baby steps. He was rushed but tried to slow down for me. I was the bitter one.
I told him to never do this again.
When we got to the theatre, I popped half a Tylenol 3 so I wouldn’t be so high that I’d need to curl up on the floor and sleep.

I did enjoy a few laughs during the show. But the theatre chairs were not made for the big people of the 21st century. I’m 5’5″ tall and weigh 170lbs, so while I’m overweight, I’m not morbidly obese. But I was spilling out of the theatre chair. And the chair back was uncomfortable. And there was an obese man sitting on each side of me, also spilling into my personal space because of the small chairs.
My shoulders and lower back and legs ached from trying to hold still in clenched centered position for over an hour.

I popped the other half the the Tylenol3 when we got out of there. My husband told me to wait in the lobby while he went and fetched the car. I sat on a hard bench. I should have gone back into the establishment and found a nice soft chair to sit on, but I didn’t know if my husband had enough sense to call me when he got to the front door, or just sit there in the car waiting for me.

He dropped me off at home and then went to an all-weekend game convention.

I’m not normally angry and demeaning towards my husband, but man I was really not happy with him that night!!!

I was bedridden Saturday and Sunday as well. A friend was visiting from Seattle, and came over Saturday afternoon to hang with me, even though I wasn’t feeling well. He bought me Indian food for dinner and we rented movies to watch. He ended up staying the night because his plans with other friends fell through. I wasn’t feeling any better on Sunday, and still bleeding like a stuck pig, so I was relieved when my friend was suddenly phoned by his other friends. I mean, I like my friend of course but I just wasn’t well, y’know?

It’s a good thing he didn’t stick around because Sunday afternoon is when the pain got so bad and ramped up so fast that the meds didn’t have time to take effect, that I sobbed for an hour. I started off trying to do the simple yoga I was taught for the pain – the child’s pose or turtle pose as it’s called. Well, that made me scream in pain. I took a second Tylenol 3. I paced the house. I laid on my back with the heating pad. I did my breathing exercises. I kneeled against the bed with the heating pad. I sobbed. I considered calling for an ambulance because there was no one in the house with me and I was scared again. I thought about calling my husband home from the convention.

I knew neither of those options would work, because I knew that the pain would be gone by the time aid arrived. And I was right. Right about the one hour mark, it was all over. The knifing pains up my ass and through my pelvic region ceased. And the meds allowed me to rest and sleep.

I stayed on Tylenol 3 at regular intervals for the rest of the day/night.

I awoke on Monday feeling much better. I still wrestled with moderate low back pain, but the pelvic and anal knifing had stopped and the bleeding had tapered way off. I even got some housework done on Monday.

I got to work on Tuesday and at the end of the day I was given 2.5 weeks notice of my dismissal. The reason given was that the baby is nearly a year old and badly needs socialisation with other children (there are no nearby parks, playgroups or anything for this poor child). I was told they really like having me around but it’s important that she be around other children now that she’s on the cusp of talking and walking. While I understood her points and agreed completely, I couldn’t shake off the flashbacks that started flooding in.

It was October, 2007 and I had just returned to work from absence after another 4 days bedridden. I wasn’t on the job for 2 hours before I was called into HR and fired for my monthly absences.

No matter how much I agree with the family I work for now, part of me wants to cry and part of me feels like a failure and part of me wants to scream ‘discrimination!’ again. It’s the PTSD. And anyway, the family has a rock solid alibi.
The thing is, I wanted out anyway – not because of the family or the child – but because the commute kills me. It’s just that I didn’t get out on my terms is all.
And it kinda sucks that I only got in half a year with them. I was hoping to make it to a year so I could then go to the nanny agencies and be hired (they require a year experience).
We’ll see if I can also count the week I did for a friend and the three months I did for another family. That gives me 9 months at least.

So now I have until my next cycle to see if I can line up another job, much closer to home.
The only reason I’ll be stressed out is if my husband finds some urgency with me getting a job ASAP. Otherwise, I’m going to go at my own pace, dammit.

Very whiney

For the past three days, my internal emotions have felt like a little kid who can’t tell the adults what is wrong, so she resorts to stamping her feet and fits of crying and sticking out her bottom lip and frowning a lot.

I’ve been having dull continuous aching pain in my upper legs for the past few days.

*** TMI FOLLOWS *** (there’s always a lot of graphic detail in this journal for those of you who are new to it)

Late Tuesday night, I began spotting. It was so faint, a normal person would have missed it, but I have the eagle eye and OCD checking behaviour and was able to notice. So I declared george would be here the next day and I was right.

Today I began to feel nauseated and then my body became extremely weak. This is usually a Bad Sign™, so I took 800mg in anticipation of pain and bleeding ramping up. I left work early and had to struggle to keep my eyes open and my hands on the steering wheel.

I’ve been spotting dark brown blood with debris since Wednesday morning. It wasn’t until after 4pm today that the blood began to get a little brighter and redder. But there’s still a lot of brown debris and I’m still only spotting, albeit enough to have to wear a pad since this morning.

Today the anal pain returned. Was it the cow’s milk cheese I caved in to last night? Was it the corn chips? Was it the fact that I’ve gone through four yes count ’em four bags of gluten-free cookies in the past week due to PMS XXTREME cravings for sugar this month? Gawd I feel so guilty for having pigged out like that. I haven’t done that in a long time.

Gah. My ass hurts. I just want to do the young child cry – the one that tells you baby is overdue for nap or feeding. I just want to sit here all day and night and do that cry. My emotions have been doing this internally for the past two days and I’m getting really tired of it, so I’m now feeling the need to unleash it – share my pain as it were – on anyone crossing my path.

My poor husband will be home from work tomorrow because he’s getting ready to take off for the weekend to a game convention. He may have to bear some of my misery. I know he goes to this convention every year and it really is the best thing for him to be out of the house this weekend while I’m miserable but dammit at the same time I want him near to take care of me and bring me food and water or juice at regular intervals and pat me on the head.


I’m so tired. But like a baby who is so very tired, I just want to continue whining and not sleep.

Unlike a baby however, I took a Tylenol 3 to knock me the hell out. I don’t usually take that unless I’m at an 8 on the pain scale but dang it, I need to be put out of this emotional misery for awhile.

And have I mentioned my ass hurts? It’s on fire. OW.
Warm compresses are not helping. Cold cloths make it hurt worse, as do the astringent pads. WAAAAHHHH MAKE IT STOP!!!

Be careful what you wish for

Remember yesterday I said, “Just get it over with – just kill me with the pain already and let’s be done with this month” ?

Well. This morning George is three days early. He JUST arrived minutes before I am supposed to leave for work. I’ve texted and emailed the mother I work for. Hopefully she’ll get the messages in the next couple of minutes.

To be honest, I … she just texted back… okay… I might just try to go in.
Anyway, to be honest, I knew I’d start today. I was in such pain yesterday that I took 800mg Ibuprofen at work. I was very tired and run down. Despite the tired, I got in some gentle yoga and Qigong three times yesterday. Before bed last night, I told my husband I better be careful what I wish for. I told him my bet is on the next 10-15 hours that george will arrive. I lost the bet because george arrived 7.5 hours later.

I’m off to work, wish me luck.

5pm Edit: I did it! I worked almost a full day! I was let out 2 hours early cuz a parent came home earlier than normal (she had gone in earlier in anticipation of me being ill). The pain never got debilitating. I took 800mg ibu first thing this morning, and then 4 hours later, I took some more. Which reminds me, I’m due for another dose.
If by some miracle I’m still feeling alright tomorrow and they still haven’t found a substitute, I’ll go in to work again. I was told that it’s okay if I get there and have to leave again within a few hours from the pain.

One thing about the blood – it’s back to being dark brown again. I’ve been taking my sepia pills as instructed. Last month, I had healthy bright blood from the start of the cycle. So now I’m wondering if I have another ovarian cyst growing. Sometimes I wonder why I analyse my period so much, because in 22 years, I’ve never been able to figure it out yet.


This week is full on PMS week.

I hate the cold. This morning in Northern California, it was so cold that I had to go into the storage unit and dig out my ice scraper to scrape my car windows before I could drive to work. I also hate California winters because it always means ant invasions. We’ve had ants coming in from the interior walls for the past two days. Yesterday, it was the bathroom. This morning they found the kitchen and living room. On both occasions they were scouting – hadn’t found any food yet. However, since they tunneled into the kitchen, they were about to discover the cat food. I couldn’t let it go until I got home from work. So there I was at 6am cleaning floorboards and spraying toxic Raid ant killer. I really need to get the nontoxic stuff – I’ll have a look over at the hippy store on the way home from work tonight.

Yesterday I was zipping along home from work when for no detectable reason, traffic came to a halt at my usual exit. It took me 35 minutes just to go 1 mile before hitting the underground tunnel to my island town. Traffic was at a dead stop through much of the tunnel as well. Once I got through the tunnel, traffic resumed just fine. WHAT THE HELL.
The traffic delay was enough to throw off my entire night. I wanted to go straight home but I had to get some groceries for the week, and I knew my husband wasn’t going to want to go out and do my chores for me again, so I continued on like a brave soldier.
I about exploded in rage at the self-checkout at the grocery, when I couldn’t make all my groceries fit into the single recyclable bag I brought in. My face flushed red with the rage, but I stuck with my duty, because I need to eat through the week. I huffed out of the store. I still had one more store to go to but I said screw it and just went home, instead.

You know PMS is in full swing when you get home and sit down with a bag of cookies for dinner. *sigh*

Right now I’m at work and the baby is sleeping. It’s 68F in the house but to me, it feels like 40F. I’m freezing my ass off. I have my hoodie on and a blanket over me and I’m still getting goosebumps from how cold I am.

Today the pain is localised to the lower left front of my pelvic region – it’s a dull pain and not bad enough to warrant pain meds. I have a continual throbbing pain deep in both of my legs extending down to my knees. And my lower back is also hurting. I’ve been trying to do stretches for the past two days but it’s hard to want to stretch when I’m freezing cold and just want to fold in on myself.

I want the anger and rage PMS crap to stop now, plz. Just get it over with – just kill me with the pain already and let’s be done with this month.

Baby’s up, gotta go.