I Will Not Suffer In Silence

Hey all, just wanted to provide a quick update so I don’t forget. I’ll try to do a more detailed year-in-review in the next month.

I’ve been having a big uptick in pain since September. I hadn’t bled since March, and then spotted for a couple of days in September if I recall.

My contract ended at the end of September and I lost my health insurance, but my awesome primary care doctor (Fredian) wanted to see me anyway and said I could pay installments. She has to see me in order to justify authorizing a refill of Tylenol 3. So today I was able to see the doctor one-on-one in her small family practice. I was the only patient there and she the only doctor. We both had masks due to covid-19 still raging all around us (nearly every state right now has a HUGE spike in cases, bigger than it was back in March/April, because of the sheer volume of covidiots during this entire pandemic), and my doc took my temperature upon entering the building.

She gave me a urine test to rule out bladder infection. No infection, whew! She also tapped on my kidneys. No pain.

Then she did a pelvic exam, and that was excruciating. She says the whole region is still in constant spasm mode, which is consistent with my diagnoses of endometriosis and pelvic floor dysfunction. She recommended an ultrasound to rule out ovarian cysts. I have typically had my worst problem developing ovarian cysts in November. I don’t know what it is about November. She said there was no apparent infection and the cervix looked good, etc. I had to request a pediatric speculum, especially after the digit inspection left me in horrid pain already. Once the speculum exam was over, THEN I started feeling the spasms on the outside, and my lower front uterus was giving me gnawing sharp pains. I described it to my doc and I could tell she was a bit cringed about having caused me pain. She was as gentle as she could be, so I felt bad that she felt bad. She’s one of the best doctors I’ve ever had.

The last time I had in-depth sonograms and MRIs for the pelvic region was last year in Autumn 2019 when I revisited my surgeon (Dr. Giudice), who ruled out endometrial cancer at that time and said based on the images, she suspects the endometriosis has grown back and is likely especially thick in the pouch of douglas again (which also explains my lower back pain and constipation). So, when I get insurance again, I need to go for another round of diagnostics and prepare for the big surgery. But if I can make it to March 2021, then I will be declared officially in menopause, for not having had a regular period in a year.

My goal has always been to get to menopause and see if the endometriosis pain fizzles out. I know it is not a guarantee, but for some people it works. I’m not willing to do any more hormonal treatments due to unlivable side effects, nor am I willing to undergo GnRH treatments which cause bone density loss, when I am already experiencing that just by being a middle aged 10th generation Appalachian (i.e. really wonk genes).

So my options are pain management, pain management and more pain management… And possibly a full hysterectomy… none of that has changed.

I just have to keep going back every year for diagnostics, especially when I experience upticks in pain, to keep ruling out endometrial cancer or torquing cysts. That’s largely what this is all about. Ruling out scary stuff and getting to the finish line.

I took today off work to see my primary doctor and the rheumatologist.

The visit with my regular doctor (April Fredian) went great, and she filled out paperwork so that I can get a blue parking spot placard for my car. I did more bloodwork as we continue to chase and confirm autoimmune symptoms, and I have pending orders to do a sleep study because with all the swelling going on, I also now possibly have sleep apnea.

The visit with the rheumatologist (Felicia Yang) went poorly. She absolutely refused to properly examine me for anything else on the EDS score list, and wouldn’t look at my notes or the photos I had taken of my translucent skin, crepe paper skin, scars and stretch marks as backup.
She very lightly pushed on my fingers and declared I did not meet the Beighton Score, so I glared at her and pushed my thumb to my forearm and cocked back my pinky fingers.
She responded with asking me to touch the floor with my palms without bending my knees, and when I could not, she fucking shrugged and said she could diagnose me with, at the very least, hypermobile EDS but nothing more, and that having it doesn’t make me chronically ill.

She kept insisting that I looked great for my age and am doing well, despite me telling her I am in fact NOT doing well and that it is a struggle to get out of bed and VERY painful to get to and from work each day, and that the whole reason I was sent to her was to get to the bottom of my condition, and she’d already ruled out Fibromyalgia based SOLELY upon the “tender points” test, and ruled out Lupus based upon my bloodwork.
So I fired her and I will start all over again with a more seasoned and professional rheumatologist in a different office. **UPDATE** Scratch that, people on the EDS forums are saying rheumatologists are useless for diagnosing EDS and to see a geneticist. So I’ll work with my general doctor and my insurance to get scheduled with a geneticist.

Regarding the results of the echocardiogram as relates to my heart murmur: both the regular doctor and the rheumatologist explained that everyone has some degree of heart valve regurgitation, and that I fall within the normal bounds of what was observed. However, my regular doctor sees the bigger picture that the rheumatologist does not, and will send me for yearly echos to follow up on my heart, since my regular doctor cared to know that there’s a family history of heart issues on both sides of my family, and I still have unexplained edema going on.

In period / endometriosis news, I finally got my period on January 16 after a 52 day absence, and have been in level 7 or above pain ever since, with continual flooding out and birthing squid and stingray shapes since Friday.

Level 7 endometriosis pain and flooding hit while I was at my primary doctor’s office today, so I popped a Tylenol 3 and ate some food after the visit.
Level 8 endometriosis pain and continued flooding hit right after the rheumatologist visit, and I popped a second Tylenol 3 on the way home. Now I’m home and writing to you from the laptop in bed.

I told both my general doctor and the rheumatologist that my goal is to file for and be awarded federal disability, because I cannot go on commuting to and from work in the continually increasing levels of pain I have been in over the past year. I am fully aware that in the U.S., it now takes a disability lawyer and no less than five denials from the courts before one is awarded disability, so until that time, I will look for ‘work from home’ office work that will pay me enough to continue eeking out an existence. If it comes to the point where I’m facing homelessness over this shit, I’m outta here.

I am absolutely aghast at myself that this blog went silent for that long. In my memory, I’d only just written another tiring entry about my endometriosis journey.

In 2 years, 2 months time, I have finished out my last year as a preschool teacher and finally quit the profession for the second time in my life.

I wasn’t even unemployed for a week when a recruiter scooped me up from LinkedIn and I wasted no time and energy to comply with a 48-hour turnaround time to meet all of their requirements for the gig. I have been employed as a contractor via an agency via a banking firm via the request of the DOJ ever since June 2018. I was able to go right back into office work just like that. I’m a fraud analyst, now, for $8 more per hour than I was making as a teacher.

In 2 years, 2 months time, my health deteriorated and in early 2018 I tore something in my right shoulder while doing stretch band exercises with one of my autistic students. Then I tore my gluteus medius while rocking that same student to sleep. By May 2018 I was walking with a cane because my hip sockets kept painfully locking up and I didn’t know why. An MRI by end of May confirmed the glute tear, while the primary doctor diagnosed the shoulder thing as bursitis from strain. Neither are healed to this day.

In 2 years, 2 months time, my relationship continued to go down the toilet as the law caught up with my partner on some shady shit she had been doing since before we got together, and she almost went to prison for it. In the last two years of our relationship, while complying with all of the court appearances and paying off the debt she owed, her behaviour deteriorated and her narcissistic abuse escalated. She drove out a housemate, vetoed any other housemates, and turned most of the neighbors in and around our home against me. As mentioned, my health deteriorated to the point where I was walking with a cane by May 2018. The last straw for our relationship was in August 2018 when I had been accosted on a ride home from work by a Lyft driver while in level 8 endometriosis pain, and was near hysterical. Once I got home, I asked my partner to please drive me to the ferry terminal to go pick up my car, and it was like pulling teeth because I had interrupted her schedule before work. On the way there, she got into a road rage incident with another driver, which caused me to react by saying I needed her to be the calm one after what I had been through, and she WENT OFF on me over it, screaming about the other driver and how I took their side and blah blah blah. In the almost four years we were together, everything was always worse for her so the attention would always be on her. If I had endo pain, she had back pain so bad she was bedridden too, and for days longer. If I was sick, well she said she had pneumonia and I had to care for her. It went like that constantly. So with the road rage being somehow worse than me being sexually accosted while in level 8 pain by a Lyft driver (yes I reported it twice and no they never got back to me), I called it quits. I broke up with her on August 21, 2018 and moved into the spare bedroom. She got fired from one job, quit another, and was in the process of getting fired from a third while I was making plans to leave my home of 13 years because she refused to leave. She escalated her silent treatments and trash-talking me to the neighbors who kept believing her stories even though I’d lived there for so long without ever having been the kind of monster she made me out to be. My TMJ returned by September 2018 from the stress of EVERYTHING, and I spent Yule 2018 a suicidal wreck, and started in earnest to look for a place to live in January 2019.

On January 31, I looked at a housemate situation in Berkeley with a gay couple, and sent off my info to their landlord. At last! I would be free! The next night, I made my favourite meal to celebrate; shrimp pasta alfredo. And this is where everything went sideways.

I spent that night and into the weekend in an allergic reaction and re-reaction tailspin, ending up in the emergency room for possible anaphylaxis. The ER staff gave me an I.V. of fluids and benadryl, gave me a week’s worth of prednisone, refilled my epipen prescription and sent me on my way, telling me to follow up with my allergist. That trip to the ER and allergist alone wiped out EVERYTHING I had to move out, PLUS a week’s worth of work, because I was too sick from the allergic reaction and the prednisone and benadryl doses to crawl out of bed. And I had no one to care for me. I broke up with my girlfriend, and she saw no reason why she should take care of someone who was just an estranged housemate. OH TRUST ME YOU WILL NEVER KNOW THE DEPTHS OF THE PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE FROM THAT PERSON.

After a few back and forths and two allergy panels with the allergist, it was ruled that I was not allergic to shellfish at all. I was in fact not allergic to anything other than dust and mold. It was therefore determined that I likely have Mast Cell Activation Syndrome, which I had never heard of until that point. I was put on a regimen of Zyrtec and Allegra once each once a day, then each twice a day, but I could not function or stay awake on any of that stuff, so by March, I quit taking it unless needed, which is actually risky to do with MCAS, but I have to work…there’s no one to take care of me.

The whole time all of this is going on… In 2 years, 2 months time… my periods went from monthly to every other to maybe every two months, but when I did get my period, it was the same pain as it ever was. My fibroids continued to multiply. My pain continued to make me miss work. I developed excruciating unexplained tailbone pain. I had been referred for physical therapy under my Kaiser doctor, but lost that health insurance when I started up as a contractor, and had to start all over again seeing doctors and specialists and whatnot.

I finally found people to move out with by April 2019. A club friend and her partner were on the brink of losing their home after their housemate left, but it was in a dangerous part of town that I did not feel comfortable in (hello we’re talking daily assaults and weekly gunfire), so we scrambled our resources and powered through several rental units before settling (and I mean settling) for a place over 20 miles away from where we had lived. The adjustment has been a bit rough but honestly what made it bearable is that my housemates have been REAL. They’re respectful and communicative and compassionate and accommodating. So I did it. I finally escaped the place where I had endured a nasty affair, divorce, suicidal attempts, horrible housemates and a dream romance turned narcissistic nightmare.

In 2 years, 2 months time, I had a cancer scare. In January 2019, with my new insurance, I was finally able to return to Dr. Giudice who had done my 2010 surgery, and she once again spotted something awry on a transvaginal ultrasound. This led to another MRI and a HORRIFIC saline sonogram (OMG flashing back just thinking about the torturous pain), all because my surgeon was concerned about endometrial cancer. When all the results came back, it turned out I have, on top of everything else, adenomyosis. BUT IT’S NOT CANCER! HAHAHAHAHA!!! WOOOO!!!!

So.. with everything I have been through in the last seven years, it’s no wonder I’m falling the fuck apart.

BUT WAIT! THERE’S MORE!!

As I continued to decline, nobody could figure out the debilitating hip socket pain. I was again referred to physical therapy but could not go because I’m working ten-hour days with a 2-hour commute and no paid time off because I’m a lowly contractor, and if I dare miss two weeks of work for a serious illness, they have no fucks to give and will shit-can me. It’s happened to three different co-workers in the time that I’ve been there.

So I’ve been trying to do prescribed exercises at work and at home and just power through each hour, each day, each week. I live up a flight of stairs and our laundry room is in constant use when I’m at work and not available by the time I get home, so the only time I have to do laundry is on the weekends at the laundrymat. Only I’m too exhausted by the time the weekend rolls around, and I want to sleep all weekend. When I DO finally have the energy and time to go to the laundrymat, I have so much accumulated by that point that I pull muscles hauling all these heavy bags to and fro.

By September 2019, my doctor, whom I must tell you I AM SO GLAD to have found again under the new insurance – it’s none other than Dr. Fredian whom I adored way back many years ago because she takes her patients seriously. So seriously in fact that she finally opened her own practice! So yeah, by September 2019 we were talking Fibromyalgia and Lupus as other conditions to rule out, based upon all of my symptoms and deteriorations. It had turned up in bloodwork that I have a severe vitamin D deficiency – we’re talking Rickets. The very very base minimum is 30 on the scale and I was at 12. After five weeks of taking 50,000iu, I had only climbed to 26. I switched from weekly to daily doses of vitamin D. It was also discovered that the swelling in my legs has progressed to the point of pitting edema. SO PAINFUL.

On December 12, I finally got to see a rheumatologist, and was prepared to be dealt a Lupus diagnosis, when after going over all of the bloodwork and my medical history, as well as the trigger point test for Fibro, she declared I did not have either Fibro or Lupus. GAAAAAHHHHHH. WHAT THEN.

Looking me over again, she did the trigger points again and then extended out my fingers, and nearly jumped back when my pinky finger kept going back. I told her it didn’t hurt, she could keep going. She asked if I could do that with my other fingers. ‘Oh yes’, I replied, and bent my thumb to my forearm. She said, ‘I think we’re on to something’, and asked me if I’d heard about Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, or EDS. I asked her which was worse, Lupus or EDS, cuz I didn’t want the worse one.

And well, here we are. I’m staring down an Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome diagnosis. I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon with a cardiologist to get an echocardiogram to check in on that heart murmur I’ve had since childhood. From there I will see about getting genetic testing and see if we can nail down WHICH FORM of EDS I have, in order to form an attack plan.

And then there’s Endometriosis. The entire point of this whole blog over most of my life. All my life I’ve waited to go through menopause naturally because I instinctively knew that the Luprons and the IUDs and the Hormonal treatments and the Hysterectomy would do more harm than good, and now I have EDS to back me up in that strong gut feeling. But it’s bittersweet, because my whole goal was to get to menopause, to see if the pain fizzled out on its own, and now that I’m nearly here, the fates are all laughing at me. I won’t enter my silver years free of endo to age gracefully as I naively held onto in the back of my head. My period may end, and I know it’s no guarantee of being pain free from endo, but worse yet is the pain that awaits with EDS. I didn’t want this. I don’t want this. I don’t know how to survive this. I’m tired. I’m so tired.

I will fight until I can fight no more.

Until then, I’m hanging in there, I tell me I love me, and I love you, my endo family.

It has been 16 months, or nearly a year and a half since my last blog entry. I became disillusioned with life with endometriosis.

Starting around March 2017, at the age of 45, my periods started becoming irregular.
I would stop bleeding, then a day or two later, start bleeding again for a few days.
Or I would bleed for eleven days in a row.

I skipped a period from April to May 2017, going 36 days. BUT I spent most of May with cramps above level 6 on the pain scale.

I had a new ultrasound in May 2017, but the GYN said everything looked good; my ovaries showed no cysts and my uterus looked smaller. However, several intramural fibroids and a subserosal fundal fibroid was noted. The GYN told me that it shouldn’t be causing the elevated pain and weird cycles I was experiencing, to which of course I called bullshit.

I skipped a period again between July and August 2017, going 44 days between periods.

August to September 2017 was 36 days, and I spent most of September with cramps above level 6 on the pain scale.

I had two periods in the month of October 2017, with most of the month yet again cramping.

I’m back to having roughly one good week a month without cramps.

I should also note that for about a month (from March to April?), I experienced serious night sweats and hot flashes. Though they abated, I know it was just a taste of what’s to come. Though they abated, my core body temp has been elevated, and I’ve been running more warm to actual HOT since Springtime.

Also since Springtime, I have been experiencing hormonal rage, the likes of which I have not experienced since I was a teenager. It’s the exact same ragey feelings I had when I was in my teen years, only now I’m not screaming at my loved ones in public. Though I have lost my shit several times at my partner, and had to apologise.
That said, I feel like I may snap at any second.

Since early 2017, I have been trying to find a talk therapist to no avail, because Kaiser outsourced all of their psychological treatment to an already inundated program. I even tried calling Gaylesta and local community psychiatry, but everyone was overwhelmed with people calling for help. This is because of the political crisis people in the United States have been experiencing since November 2016 when The Orange Troll was installed into the White House and began systematically rolling back civil rights for everyone and everything.

On September 16, 2017, I was t-boned, and my car totaled. This, on top of a year of dealing with an epileptic dog, a Troll in the White House, a former friend/housemate shitting all over me and then crying to other people about how mean I am when I begged her to repair the damage she’d done to the room she’d rented, and me ending 8 years at one employer, hoping to switch careers, only to be scooped up again by another even more dysfunctional employer in the same industry.
So I’ve been suffering anxiety/panic attacks the likes of which I have not seen since my mid-to-late twenties.

I have been on a thin edge of sanity for the entire year of 2017, and I think I have an idea of what is happening to me, along with all the above-mentioned life stress:

I’m that much closer to the end of my period, and hopefully the end of bedridden horrific bloody cramps.

HOWEVER, I’m gonna be honest here and say that I had it in my head that I would have this sort of magickal timeframe to start preparing for peri-menopause before it actually hit. You know, time for me to enroll in yoga class, meditation classes and a stress-management program…so I could go into peri-menopause gracefully.

My body took one look at that idea and threw its head back, laughing maniacally.

That moment last Spring when I thought to myself, “Hmmm, could the is be peri?” It was already too late. The hormones were already going sideways, plotting to take me down hard.
Nope, no mindful meditation and graceful for you, buttercup.
HIT THE FUCKING DECK!!!!

So, from here on out, this endometriosis blog is ALSO my peri-menopause blog. Because, you know, I STILL Will Not Suffer In Silence.

Peri-menopause and Menopause are just as taboo as Endometriosis. So I will still be here, tellin it like it is.

Oh, one last thing before I conclude this journal entry:
PERI-MENOPAUSAL CRAVINGS ARE A THING.

I have never eaten so much peanut butter IN MY LIFE.

Actual peanut butter. Reeses peanut butter cups. Ben & Jerry’s “Everything But The…” ice cream.
Peanut butter cookies.

Don’t ask why. I don’t know. This at least is the only thing about peri-menopause so far that has me giggling.

I am in a lot of pain. I hobbled into work this morning because I had a parent conference at 8am. I’m shocked I lasted the entire day…I certainly thought several times to just bail, but I gritted my teeth and hung in there.

On the bus ride home, I felt nauseous because of all of the motion. Just walking from one bus stop to the next across the street felt like a death march because of the pain and nausea.

I have 3 remaining parent conferences tomorrow. The one first thing in the morning has already been rescheduled twice, so I can’t cancel it.

I may just go to work long enough to do the conference, come home, and come back in the afternoon for the other two conferences. Not sure if I’ll be able to stay at work all day tomorrow.

What sucks is having to take a bus to and from work when in so much pain. I thought driving was bad? Try walking three blocks to the bus stop first thing in the morning when the pain is at its worst, then getting on a herky-jerky bus.

I almost made it through the work day. I remained around a 5.5 on the pain scale for much of the day, with only Ponstel to take for pain relief (which doesn’t work AT ALL at the dosage I am given).

At 3:37pm, another wave of level 8 pain took me down at work. At that point, I still had no authorisation from my doc to refill the Norco…since last Thursday.
Pleas to my primary doc went unnoticed.

The advice nurse couldn’t reach anyone in that department. I was stuck in the teacher lounge with a heating pad, clutching my abdomen in pain, waiting to hear back from the advice nurse. She said, “If you don’t hear back by 5pm, call.”

I called at 4:45pm and was told that another doctor filed the script (for 10 pills), and that I should follow up with my GYN ASAP.

This is exactly the same thing that happened last month.

THEN, I’m told the GYN I have been trying to reach is not my primary GYN doctor! When did that happen? I have only ever been dealing with the one GYN.

There is a ray of sunshine in all of this – I have the best co-workers EVER!
My boss drove me to the pharmacy, while the school secretary drove my car home. The director dropped me off at home and picked up our secretary. THEN, my newly appointed assistant teacher dropped off my backpack, some soup, yoghurt and juice! I am SO thankful for these wonderful women!

Tomorrow is another day. I can hope again that the pain subsides.

Today I threw up from the pain. My period arrived yesterday after a 34-day hiatus.

My last post was May 7, where I was dumbfounded by an extension of my period, which was alarmingly odd. That pain and bleeding lasted until May 13. I then experienced days of no pain, days of some pain, off and on like that through to the end of the month. I thought my next period was due May 24, but that date came and went with no sign of george.

Then he arrived yesterday as I mentioned above. Obviously the endometrioma is wreaking havoc inside of me.

Yesterday and last night, I had moderate pain. It was manageable, though. This morning, as I was leaving the house for work, the pain suddenly shot up to a 7 on the pain scale. It happened right after I had to swerve and honk the car horn to avoid an asshole trying to run a stop sign. That minor adrenaline rush was all it took to set the pain in motion.
I had to turn around only a block from my home, drive back home, take some Tylenol 3 and put on a heating pad, and then try again to get to work. I was about 10 minutes late to work. I popped 800mg Ibuprofen and tried to go about my day, but the pain just kept getting worse throughout the day.

I took another half Tylenol 3 just before lunch time to no avail. I then popped 800mg more of Ibuprofen after lunch. I thought getting to 8 on the pain scale by lunch time was going to be my worst, but no… the pain got to 8.5 while I was in a head teacher meeting around 4pm, and was accompanied by a horrible headache. I tried to leave immediately after the meeting, but ran back inside the building to vomit. Yes, I vomited because the pain was so bad. I haven’t done that in a long time.

I got home and just like that, the headache subsided, as did the pain. I’m seriously exhausted from the trauma of it all, so I took a nap for an hour, only waking up because of the pressure on my bladder from all the buildup of menstrual fluid.

As soon as I used the bathroom, WOOSH the pain level shot up again and the headache returned. I just took a whole Tylenol 3.

Please kill me now.

This month was a blue moon month, and also a blue cycle month. Two full moons and two cycles in one month. My friend Kristine calls my period my Wolf Time, since my periods seem to happen around the time of the full moon. ;)

This cycle began last night in the middle of the night. For a day or two prior, my body felt heavy and I was out of breath easier. I had very mild twinges of cramping, especially on Saturday. The PMS cravings were on the increase this month, a full week before my period.

This cycle is painful – I’m guessing a 7 on the pain scale. It got to be enough that I got nauseous this morning, whimpered in pain or cried out throughout the day, and finally dug into my old medicine stash of Vicoprofen.
Now I’m happily dissociated from the pain, but I’m bleeding heavily and have to go to the bathroom often.

While I’m sad to miss the Labor Day weekend’s events because of the pain, I’m happy that the worst of my pain will hopefully happen while I’m off work for the holiday, so I don’t have to miss any work.

I think my pain level is increased this month because I’ve been drinking a lot of alcohol this month. I’m still going through major depression in the wake of the divorce. Even though the divorce was final on July 5, 2013, I’m still a bit of a basketcase over it.

Today I spent the day sleeping; on the couch and in my bed. I used the heating pad all day. Right now I’m going back and forth between writing this entry, watching Ghost Hunters and watching Sleepy Hollow. I can’t seem to focus on any one thing for too long. I blame the vicoprofen. ;)

So it’s been another 30 days, and george decided to show up yesterday. I’ve got my calendar set to 30 day cycles, now. Better than the freak accident of last month, when he showed up at the 19-day mark.

Today is Day 2 and is a bit heavier than yesterday. I went through 4 pads today.

Starting yesterday, I was depressed because I am easily out of breath, heavily fatigued, and in general bloated. This is so not the right time to pick back up on the exercise regimen, but the mental bashing happens every month around the time of my period – guilty at not having spent 3-4 weeks of uptime as a gym rat, working out and getting beefcakey. BAH. Whatever. I’m tired of the self-inflicted guilt trips already.

I’m tired – so tired. I had an asthma attack today – first one in many months – don’t know if it was brought on by weekend campfire, cleaning the tub last night with Tilex, or getting an email from my ex husband asking for his ring back (which sent me into a rage). The wheezing definitely does not help the already feeling out of breath issue. meh.

I have consumed 1,600mg of Advil to quell the pain today, and I used my rice heating pad at work. I have already added 100mg of gabapentin daily to make 300mg/day while in the endo flare. I hope I am not in any more pain tomorrow than I was in today. If I start missing work again, this will pile more guilt and fear on me, since I’m supposed to take a head teaching position come end of August.

Ugh. I can feel it – it’s getting heavier. I’m going to bed.

I’m only at 19 days since the last onset of my cycle, and I woke up bleeding! WTF! I’m not supposed to be due for up to ten more days!

First my cycle lengthens from 25 days to 29ish days, and now I’m starting it at 19 days?
Is this the start of peri-menopause?

I had prior warning signs for the last few days, but I mistook it for just being too active on the dance floor. I took half a Tylenol 3 pill after going dancing on Friday, because the lower back and left hip were killing me. The low back pain was a sign of george, though.

The pelvic and low back pain, combined with right hip pain and mild nausea from said pains has led me to take another half Tylenol 3 pill today. I’ve also consumed 1,200mg of Ibuprofen today. The pain of everything has had me constant at about a 6.5 on the pain scale today.

Despite the pain, I still went out and got my hair cut, then met up with two friends I haven’t seen in several months, then did a bit of retail therapy before coming home and setting up this year’s AIDS Walk donation page (I organise a team for the walk every year). I have been hobbling quite a bit today – mostly due to the hip pain – but dammit, I still went and lived my life. I will call the doctor tomorrow about the hip, and I will call my surgeon about the early menstruation. Of course, I should probably read up on peri-menopause again, too. I don’t know if it’s too early for me – I’ll be 42 in September. My Ma entered peri-menopause around this age, so it’s not unheard of.

Tomorrow begins a week of tearing down classrooms and setting up for the Summer session. This past Friday, my head teacher and I successfully graduated 17 first- and second-graders. I made it through an entire school year without missing much work from endo, because I’ve been on Gabapentin. I have seen more money in my paycheck as a result, and have earned my worth with the management, who are finally considering me for a head teaching position. So, I’m still in pain, but I’m no longer averaging an 8 on the pain scale. I modulate the amount of Gabapentin I take during my cycle, so I’m getting 300mg a day instead of 200mg. This helps, but the side effect is that I forget everything. So long as I’m not taking 300mg every day anymore, it’s worth the side effect for now.

We’ll see how this week goes for me…
In the meantime, here’s a pic of my new ‘do!