I Will Not Suffer In Silence

I just discovered a blog wherein a fellow endo sister asked others to share their story. So I sent her my story, and then realised I really didn’t have a narrative of it here on my blog. So here is my story:

I got my first period at the age of 14 in 1985. By the time I was 15, I was vomiting from painful periods. Everybody told me I was being a baby about it. My mother threw Midol pills at me and told me to shut up. My friends did not have the pain as bad as I did, so I knew there was something wrong.

In 1991, I was put on Loestrin, firstly as a birth control method, and secondly with the potential benefit of easing my cramps. I went psychotic inside of 3 months, and stopped treatment. I wasn’t very good at recording details of my pain or treatments back then. All I have is the memory of wanting to kill everything in site, and weeping all the time, so I stopped Loestrin treatment.

In 1996, when I was 24 years old, I was fed up with people telling me that this pain was common to every woman, when I saw for myself that this was a damned lie. NOBODY around me was going through what I was going through, and I certainly wasn’t making this shit up. I hired a new gynaecologist – a man this time – and he told me I hit every symptom in the book for Endometriosis. He scheduled me for surgery, but my boyfriend got hired across country for a new job. I desperately wanted to go with him and leave the hometown we’d been trying to flee from for years. I promised the surgeon I’d schedule surgery as soon as I moved across country. How hard could it be? I’ve already got one doctor saying I likely have Endo. All I have to do is take that paperwork with me when I move, hire a new gynae and get the surgery.

THAT WAS A MISTAKE.

See, I knew nothing about health insurance in the United States. I had great Preferred Provider Organisation (PPO) coverage when I lived in Michigan. When I moved to California, suddenly the health insurance of choice for employers was Health Maintenance Organisation (HMO) coverage.
Under HMO insurance, it’s all about preventing illness, not treating existing illness. If you have existing issues, they don’t want to talk to you – they want to deflect you to other services. I spent the next ELEVEN YEARS begging doctors for surgery, only to be told I don’t have endo, I ONLY have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, or I ONLY have Dysmenorrhea, or I am simply out of shape and need to spend more time at the gym (I was bicycling 30-60 miles on average during this time, for fun!).
I was referred to chiropractic for period pain!! I was flagged as drug seeking for the pain!!

In 2001, I convinced my HMO primary care doctor to send me to a surgeon for evaluation with the suspected diagnosis of endometriosis. I was so excited to be so close to an official diagnosis. When I got to the surgeon, she flat out denied me surgery! She said I ONLY have Dysmenorrhea. She took a biopsy of my cervix, without any pain meds, knowing full well I’d driven there myself with no one to drive me home. I left her office feeling completely violated and abused. I noted the degree on her wall – University Of Alabama. I wondered if all doctors who trained in the South were this barbaric. She said my cervical biopsy came back normal. I fired her.

In 2005, I once again sought the help of a male gynae, hoping for a compassionate doctor such as the one I had back in 1996. Nothing could be further from the truth. This doctor looked me up and down with disdain as I told my story, and replied that I did not have endo – more likely it was bladder infections or sexually transmitted diseases! I noticed the degree on his wall – University of Kansas. Again, I wondered if all doctors trained in the South were specifically trained as barbarians. He was rude and condescending, but I let him perform a pap smear, hoping to exonerate myself. When the pap smear came back normal, and again he insisted I did not have endo, I fired him immediately.

Finally, in 2006, a friend referred me to her surgeon, and I had also finally scored a job which allowed me to have PPO health insurance. I saw the surgeon, told her my story, and she scheduled me for surgery. In February, 2007, I was laparoscopically diagnosed with Stage III Endometriosis on the ovaries, bladder, uterus and peritoneum. I was also told that I have a retroverted uterus and an everted cervix, which could account for Dysmenorrhea aside from the endometriosis. On that note, I was finally officially diagnosed with Dyspareunia. Why the hell wasn’t I told any of this when I had my cervix biopsy back in 2001?!?

I filed complaint against the surgeon who saw me in 2001, who had refused to give me surgery and who had said emphatically that I did not have endo. She was, coincidentally, a colleague in the same hospital as the surgeon who DID diagnose me with endo in 2007.
The hospital performed an investigation and came down unequivocal on her side, instead blaming my primary care doctor for improper referral, which had confused the surgeon, who did not know I was there for a surgery consult!! Are you kidding me?!?!

I experienced NO pain relief from the surgery. Initially, I was put on Yasmin to suppress the ovaries after surgery, but within one month, I exhibited the terrifying symptoms of Akathisia and Anhedonia (I just learned of the term Anhedonia from another fellow endo sister’s blog post, entitled Progesterone intolerance: Loss of enjoyment).

Two months into the Yasmin treatment, I was completely suicidal and had to be placed on 72-hour lockup while the doctor stopped the Yasmin treatment and fed me full of Xanax around the clock.
After that mess, I found that I did experience longer amounts of time between endo flares, where I was more often pain-free and had more energy. Each menstrual cycle however was the same as it had always been – I was bedridden from the pain. Six months post-op, sobbing in the surgeon’s office, she admitted to me that she had not gotten all of the endo out of me – that there was a spot on the bladder reflection – she was too afraid to get to it, because she feared she would have ruptured my bladder.

I knew this meant I’d have another surgery.
Three years later, in 2010, I had my second laparoscopy, and was re-diagnosed with Stage I Endometriosis. Again, my uterus and ovaries were covered with endo, and now endometriomas in the ovaries as well. There was a complication during surgery – they accidentally ran into the mesentery
The second surgery showed better results, but I have never been completely pain-free during my cycle. I may have spent far less time bedridden in 2011, but I still experience level 6 and 7 cramps, and I still have to come home sick from work. On the upside, I experienced 20 consecutive pain-free days in a row after this past surgery. It was amazing.
Of course, 14 months post-op, the endo symptoms are returning again. I have decided against further surgery, since I’m in the home stretch for menopause, which should begin anywhere in the next 6 to 10 years. That seems like a long time, but when surgery has been an ineffective pain management tool for me, and I’ve already been suffering with endometriosis for 26 years, I choose my battles carefully. I know the behaviour of the endo in my body. I have figured out my windows of uptime. I’m tired of hormonal and surgical experiments to quell the pain, which only brings up new and more terrifying complications.

I am fully aware that endometriosis could continue to ravage me despite entering menopause. If that becomes the case, I may go in for the big surgery – hysterectomy. Unfortunately, since the endo attacks my ovaries, I’d have to lose them, which means being put on HRT. If there’s ANY endo left in my body after a hysterectomy, then the HRT could stir up a new hornet’s nest, because endo feeds on any estrogen – whether natural or synthetic. There’s also the issue of progestin intolerance, which I am convinced was the case in leading me to become completely mental when I was on Loestrin and Yasmin. So far, I have refused any other hormonal treatments. No Lupron, no Danazol, no GnRH treatments of any sort – none of it. I refuse. I would rather have pain every 25 days for up to 4 days than ever deal with Akathisia, Anhedonia and planning suicide again.

For further information, see Things I’ve Tried To Combat Endo.

NOTE: This post contains references to relations between a married couple. You know, hootie hoo, insert tab A into slot B… that sort of thing. It’s on topic!

I’m looking for a job full time, researching and blogging for endometriosis awareness full time, and going to job interviews. So now my pain diary is falling behind. Don’t even get on me about ReliefInSite or CureTogether – I’ve barely touched those, either. Always playing catch-up.

So let’s go back in time once again, and then get caught up to present day.

Thursday March 12 was the ant invasion on the heaviest day of my menstrual cycle. My husband brought home peppermint and cinnamon oils. We tried those in dilution, to no avail. The next day, I said screwit and applied cinnamon oil directly. That seems to have worked.

I noted that I felt better on Friday, March 13. I continued to feel better. I did go to the doctor and saw whomever was available – Dr. Tsao was good to me. She told me black stools are normal when taking iron, and nothing to worry about. She sent me for a blood draw. A week later it came back that my iron levels, despite having taken all that iron, were still low!!! She said my levels were on the low end of “normal”, but still low, and to just continue taking the supplements as I’d been doing. I backed off anyway, though. I’ll just take the recommended dose for the next month and see how that goes.

I did get to Calistoga and had a nice time. I swam in a 102°F pool, I got an hour-long massage, and I giggled with a gaggle of women and we all helped our friend have a great, low-key bachelorette, just what she wanted.

http://www.indianspringscalistoga.com/

I did get out to the nightclub for the 16-year anniversary party of that club’s existence. Had a fun time. Danced my little patootie off.

I did get to the job interview on Tuesday, March 17, and I did great, but as expected, I did not get the job, because of my health condition. She stated it directly as the reason why she did not hire me, but thanked me for being forthright.

Now, I don’t really talk about this … but really I should…as uncomfortable for me as this is, it’s important for me to be able to track back and relay this info to my doctors…I was intimate with my hubby on March 17 but I had pain and spotting right after. I am clinically diagnosed with dyspaneuria (pain with sex) as part of the larger endometriosis diagnosis, though doctors can’t say for sure if it’s because of the fact that I also have a tipped uterus or if it’s because of the location of the endometriosis in my pelvic region.

The uterine/bladder pain continued into the next three days, with moderate low back pain as well. So Tuesday was mild to moderate uterine pain, Wednesday was moderate uterine plus low back pain, Thursday was on and off pain in uterine area and low back, and then on Friday, it worsened. I noted that I felt the need to urinate frequently. This began overnight, and worsened through the day on Friday. I had stinging pelvic pain, and I also developed hip pain after walking in San Francisco a mile and a half from my gynecological surgeon’s office back to bus station. I could have taken the bus, but I hate taking the bus because I really don’t like being in that close of proximity with strangers. I had too much mental energy going on and preferred to walk.

On Saturday, March 21, the pain was gone. I did get my hair coloured, and it turned out faboo! My husband liked my new hair colour, too. >:)

More intimacy ensued, and there was no pain during or after! (the month of March is by far the most action I’ve given my hubby in a long time. Wish it could be like this all the time, with no pain of course).

On Sunday, I had another job interview, and it went really well, but again, I’m not holding my breath.
Sunday evening, we joined up with friends at a local theater which was abruptly shut down after longstanding disagreements and negotiations between building owner and tenants failed to produce an outcome desireable to the owner. People were out collecting signatures to try to persuade the owners to reopen the theater. We saw our last show there with friends, and I had two glasses of wine. When we got home, my husband handed me a shot of whisky. It had been a tough day – we were both wrecked emotionally by seeing our friends literally weep because the place they got married in was now shut down. I promised the guy doing the paper petition that I’d help him also get an online petition going to further his cause, and now that seems to have become my third unpaid job.
I have a full time job of looking for work, a full time job of endometriosis awareness blogging, and now a part time job of monitoring signatures for an online petition (we’re already up to 316 signatures in just two days!)

Noting the fact that I drank alcohol on Sunday is important because…

On Monday night, I was preparing to go out dancing again. As I leaned forward in a chair to tie my boots, it felt like my entire pelvic region was frozen in place – it simply didn’t want to move with the rest of my body. The pain was sharp, stabby, and made me cry out. The pain didn’t dissipate like it sometimes does after a wrong move like that. The pain just continued, like waves fanning out after something initially hits the water. I popped half of a Tylenol 3 and went out dancing anyway, because I’m stubborn like that.

Movement and exercise did not help.

I am here to tell all doctors, friends and family members, that telling anyone with endometriosis that you’ve heard that exercise helps – IT’S ALL LIES.
So shut the hell up!

The pain was pretty unbearable at times, but I still tried dancing when I could. I rarely lasted an entire song, because I was so fatigued and/or in pain. I took another half Tylenol 3 on the way home from the club.
Late Monday night, the hubby and I were at it again. I was drugged on Tylenol 3 so I thought I was feeling better, right? HAH. The fun didn’t last long. The pain was razor sharp and I started spotting.

I woke up Tuesday and POOF! The pain was gone.

I had yet another job interview on Tuesday, and while at the interview, the pain returned. Go me! :(
I was handling a 6-month-old baby. He’s not heavy – he’s kinda small for his age. So lifting and carrying a baby can’t possibly be what set off the pain, could it? I have no idea.
The pain continued on and off for the rest of the day.

I accomplished putting away some laundry and catching up on endo awareness blogging, but found it hard to wind down at the end of the night. I’m sick of having pelvic pain when I’m not even on my period. I’m bitter. I’m angry. So in that, I become weak and I cave into coping mechanisms. Like drinking. I had a glass and a half of wine last night before bed to chill the hell out. It worked – I was able to get in some leisure reading (oh it’s never JUST leisure with me, I ended up taking notes for later research – the books I was enjoying had to deal with stuff to see in the UK).

Woke up today, and so far, I’m feeling fine.

Today I plan to hang out with a friend in SF whom I’ve not seen in awhile. We’re supposed to go thrift store shopping. Let’s see how well my body holds up.

So to summarise, let’s put it all in perspective, my month so far:

I spent all of Friday evening and all of Saturday on Tylenol 3 and a heating pad for the pain – just like old times. I was ok Sunday until late afternoon and then I needed more Tylenol 3 for the pain. I went to bed with a heating pad.

I needed a total of 2 Ibuprofen 800mg pills to get through the workday yesterday, and I struggled through work today on 1 Ibuprofen 800mg pill because I ran out of my portable stash. As soon as I was on my way home, I popped a Tylenol 3. My arms and back felt like they were going to seize up on the way home, because I’d been steeling against the pain all day, so I popped *another* Tylenol 3 when I was just minutes from home.

Since Friday night, I’ve been bleeding like a stuck pig. Again, just like old times. I’ve even had the shooting anal pains.

I only had ONE month free of george since surgery.

I am NOT going to try out any other hormone pills. Call me stubborn if you like. I can’t go through the mental anguish again. In my heart I *know* all hormone pills will affect me the way Loestrin did in 1990 and the way Yasmin did in 2007.

I called my surgeon today to let her know I’m no longer suicidal, but that all the old pain is back. I asked if she would give consent for me to join the Oakland Cannabis Club for medical marijuana (you need doctor approval to join). She refused, citing she doesn’t know the long term effects of Cannabis or if it actually helps one with medical issues. Great, so she’s in that camp.
She recommended accupuncture. Ok, fine, I’ve been saying I’ll try that for the pain, too.

I’m so sick of this. I don’t want to be a hospital patient all my life. I’m tired of doctors. I’m tired of being sick and I’m tired of the whole world knowing when I’m on my period because I have to explain *why* I’m doubled over or missing work or having to go for surgery or can’t go out with friends or I’m stoned silly on Tylenol 3.

Many years ago, when I was still a teenager, I didn’t tell people I was on my period. I just told people I was in a lot of pain if they asked what was wrong. People to this day can’t see a physical reason for my pain – they just see me suddenly steeling against it. And to this day I don’t tell *everyone* the reason for my pain, because I feel some people are too easily squicked by details or are too Midwestern or Southern, if that makes sense. People who don’t want to know about it because females don’t talk about such things.
I can usually tell the type and adjust my reply accordingly if someone asks if I’m okay.

I’ve noticed though that whenever I *don’t* tell people I have a medical condition, that they get a look or an air about them that says I’m some kind of drama queen to be expressing pain in public without a physical open gaping wound of some sort. I’ve noticed the same judgemental reaction for years from people if, when they ask what’s wrong with me, I reply with something like, “I have pain – it’s too much to go in detail about.”
Instantly, I’m a drama queen.

But it IS too much to go into detail about.

General people on the street don’t want to hear a fecking story – most of them don’t have much of an attention span.

General people on the street also don’t want TMI. They don’t want to know that “it’s a girl thing”.

In all honesty, strangers and cow-orkers don’t ask if I’m okay because they care. They just want me to stop looking painful or unhappy and therefore causing drama.

If I sense someone actually does care, I’ll tell them about Endometriosis.

The director of the department I work in, for example, wanted to know the reason for my surgery, and expressed genuine concern. When I told him, I found out his wife also has Endometriosis. He asked how I was doing today and I was honest. He looked concerned. He understands because his wife goes though it. He told me to hang in there.

I’m not a terminal patient. I’m not in 24/7/365 pain. But once a month, I’m screwed for five to seven days at the least. I miss work for up to 3 days every month because of the pain. I get moderate pre-menstrual pain for up to a week before the actual bedridden pain. The pre-menstrual pain is not enough to make me miss work but it’s enough to have me take 600-800mg of Ibuprofen and be really uncomfortable.

My entire life is affected by this disease. I went on an exclusive women’s group 66-mile bicycle ride in 2002 and the disease hit me smack in the middle of the ride. I’ll be having a lovely intimate evening with my man, only to end up crying from pain associated with this disease, and it doesn’t matter what time of the month it is – the disease makes sex painful.
The disease is always with me, even if it only makes me bedridden for up to 3 days a month.

I am feeling very pessimistic about the next few months. I’m told that the first couple of months are or could be bad because I’m still healing from surgery. But I don’t believe anyone. I just think george is back. Although the surgery was hugely beneficial in providing me with a diagnosis, I don’t feel it SOLVED the problem even on a temporary basis.

I feel like the woman who felt relief for a short time after pressing charges on her abusive husband, because he was confined to jail. For a short time, she tasted sweet life again.

Now he’s out, and he’s just forced his way back into the house, and the wife is again being beaten.

I feel beat down by george. I feel like he’s won the game – that he’s not going anywhere. This disease is laughing at me and beating the shit out of me.

I mostly believe in reincarnation. I believe from time to time that I’ve given myself all this shit in life for a reason, and that I’ve got to survive it for that same reason in order to get to the next spiritual level – to have a better life next time around. Striving for that spiritual lottery jackpot as it were.

Today, I don’t believe in reincarnation. I don’t believe I asked for this disease. I feel like a victim. I feel I do not deserve this. I feel angry. I feel powerless.

…but I keep fighting.

I’ve just asked my masseuse for accupuncture referrals.

I guess that’s the next step in pain management, along with getting off my ass and getting to a regular yoga class.

I want at least ten pain-free years before menopause sets in.

So it finally happened. I’m all healed up inside. I know this because I finally got the “coffee grounds” falling out of me. It looked at first like george had paid me a visit, and I was about to get real pissed off, because I’ve been taking the Yasmin every day at the same time.
But then I looked closer and saw the color and the debris and realised that the scabs inside have finally sloughed off and have got to exit somewhere…so … there we go.

My incisions are still pinkish red and they’re shiny, so the scarring is going well there it seems, too.

And now, time for cozy soft warm bed. Mmmmm, bed…

The last glue plug fell out on March 9th. It was the first glue plug to go but apparently not all of it ever came out, and therefore the area got a little infected. Ew.

The belly button is still healing, but despite that, I was finally able to wear jeans on March 9th for the first time since surgery (which was Feb 1st). Granted, they’re the largest size jeans I could find in my drawer (size 33-inch waist), but still. It may be another month before I’m able to wear my 32’s or my 30’s. That’s okay.

I did my homework on the hormones and found out that I was wrong. I’m not on progesterone. That’s the naturally-occurring hormone in one’s body. I’m on synthetic hormones of course, and the names for those in the Yasmin pill are Progestin (synthetic progesterone) and Ethinyl Estradiol (synthetic estrogen).

And, it’s the synthetic estrogen that’s making me a raging psycho hosebeast, not the progestin.

My surgeon was sorry to hear about my side effects and wanted to put me on Micronor, a progestin-only hormone, instead. She called in the script for me. Once I found out that it’s the synthetic estrogen that’s causing me the emotional imbalance, I was ready to try the progestin. But the doctor warned that I have to take the progestin EXACTLY at the same time every day OR ELSE I’d get cramps and breakthrough bleeding. And the progestin isn’t a good source of birth control, whereas the progestin/estrogen is.

So I started studying side effects for both Micronor and Yasmin.

I found askapatient.com and read peoples’ reactions to Micronor, rather than the usual Generic side effects noted in the lab website I’m so fond of.

Reading these peoples’ experiences terrified me. I mean… getting hairy arms, legs, chest and back? If I wanted that, I’d have started taking Testosterone shots to become a boy back in 2003. I’m no longer having that gendertastic episode. I do not want hair growth.
And there’s the other stuff – the painful periods returning and lasting up to 3 weeks at a time, for example.

So then I read about the Yasmin. I saw exactly the issues I’m having show up in other women. And I saw that they stuck with the Yasmin in most cases. And things got better.

So I called my primary doctor and explained the surgery, the Yasmin, the side effects. I requested a refill of an anti-anxiety pill, Lorazepam. I was happy that I didn’t have to come in for a visit – they just called in the script for me.

Then I called the pharmacy and told them to disregard the Micronor and to refill the Yasmin. So here I go, month two coming up on the Yasmin. We’ll see how it goes.

And george is due next Saturday, on my half-year birthday (everyone should celebrate their half-year birthday!). My great gift would be that george doesn’t show up to spoil the party like he was always so fond of doing.

I’m still a ball of energy on the Yasmin. But now the weight is all over the chart. I was down to 153lbs (69kg), and within four days I shot up to 157lbs (71kg). And yet I’m still coming home from work and dancing til I sweat in the living room. My knees and back hate me for it, but I can’t stop. When I sit down, I bounce my legs. The Lorazepam will help calm some of this down when I’m at work and can’t get away from my desk. This will in turn lessen the anxiety and rageyness.

In fun news, I got to spend the weekend with my man for the first time in like, EVAR. We lazed about and watched X-Files on Friday. We went to our friends’ house for an awesome feast and silliness (more Redneck Life board game playing!) last night, and today we sorta slept in with the time change and all – and we hope to get some bicycling in before sunset. If so, it will be the first time I’ve gotten back on the bicycle since surgery.

Regarding the early Daylight Saving Time (DST) switch this year, let me first rant to say that it’s all bullshit. Its real intent is not to “save energy” but to continue enriching the oil kings – notably DUBYA – because – as cited on NPR, with an extra hour of daylight, people are bound to go out after work…in their cars….which requires MORE oil and gas to buy to operate the cars. Is there any way to stop this madness? How soon til I have enough money to get an electric car?
*adds “electric car” to list of savings goals to prod this into action*

The only problem we had in our household with the early DST switch was that I forgot to update my linux box before the time change, so I had to do it manually. No big whoop. However, there are going to be some small businesses out there who didn’t patch their computers, and their systems will be horked. Even people I talked to last night didn’t understand that they had to manually go and get a patch this year for the time change. So there will be some frustrations floating around when people realise that the patch affects more than looking at the little clock on the desktop.

Right. I’m off to shower and start my day… at 1pm!

For my memory and for others with Endometriosis who may find this journal:

Today is Day 32 post-laparoscopic surgery, in which Stage III Endometriosis was found.

At Day 32, the following is true for me:

• Sex resumed at Day 24 but bright red bleeding occurred afterwards and lasted a half a day. Sex again on Day 31 resulted in the same. It’s not enugh to fill a pad.
• The glue plugs are STILL in the incisions (well, one of the three fell out the other day), and the belly button is the most tender and keeps getting inflamed due to clothing and skin rubbing on it throughout the day (skin if I slouch while sitting). Wearing a bandage, carefully placed, seems to help.
• The left ovary (the problematic ovary for me) still gives jarring pinches of pain on occasion (roughly every other day throughout the day), enough to make me gasp.

At Day 14 on Yasmin birth control pills (bcp) for Ovarian Suppression – that is to say – using bcp as a way to try to prevent the Endo from growing back, the following is true for me:

• Breakthough Bleeding is present on a daily basis – it’s very light.
• Breasts are VERY sore for up to three days after even light sexual play.
• Highly energetic – my legs are constantly bouncing and I come home from a desk job nearly every night to work out (for me this means dancing til I sweat buckets).
• My face seems blotchier than usual – a noted side effect in the Yasmin instruction packet.
• I get bursts of aggression bordering on rage that can be difficult to control if I’m not careful. This is reason #1 why I stopped taking bcp the first time, back in 1991. I’ll see how Yasmin continues to treat me and try something else if I have to.
• I am happy to report that libido is NOT negatively affected by the Yasmin.
• Acne was a problem in the first week of taking Yasmin but was easily remedied by swabbing my face and back with Witch Hazel twice a day.

Also re-noted for posterity – the first period after my surgery did NOT show any signs of relief – it was as bad (felt a bit worse actually) than my periods before surgery, and I was home sick from work as a result.

Now that I’ve been on Yasmin for 2 weeks, I anxiously await the next menstrual cycle to see if it tries to show up. I’ve been instructed to take Yasmin uninterrupted for a year because my periods are so bad.

Yesterday morning in the shower, another glue plug fell out. This was on the right side, and it left more of a hole than the one on the left side. I don’t think all of the glue came out of the incision on the left side, now that I look at it. so I’ve been keeping the right side incision bandaged. The only glue plug left now that’s been giving me grief is the belly button. Because I have a bit of a belly, the button gets irritated by damn near anything I wear, waistband or not. I’ve bandaged it from time to time but it seems to make it worse. *sigh*

The Yasmin has me very antsy. I have all sorts of energy. I’ve been coming home every night and turning the house into Club Steph. I dance and dance until I drip-sweat.

I’ve lost two pounds. YAY! Down to 153lbs (69kg).

Oh, and I just spent $150 that I shouldn’t have, but the outfit is friggin gorgeous and I *must* look fantastic for an upcoming gothic festival in May.

Almost had a panic attack at work last week. I was just sitting there taking call after call and suddenly I felt like I was being choked to death. I had to regain my composure and breathe slow, deep breaths before answering the next call.

Today at work, I got bitchier and bitchier as the day wore on. I felt like at any moment, I could stand up, begin screaming like a wilderbeast, throw things off my desk, and heft it over the railing (I work in a loft).

I’m beginning to think that the Yasmin is affecting me.

Gah. And still two more days of work to go this week. :(

Over the weekend I was finally able to have some intimate time with my man. Only 24 days after surgery! Technically I was supposed to wait another week but well, we couldn’t hold out. ;)

Of course, this brought george back temporarily. Barely any cramping. Then he disappeared.
Then today, two days later, without warning – george re-appeared – bright red and flowing. WTF!!! And horrible pinching pains on the left side again! It’s a good thing I have my post-op doctor appointment today.

I went to a pain management doctor today for the back pain I always have. This doctor talked about epidurals and surgery and steroidal injections into my spine! I told him I only want his advice on further NON SURGICAL treatment options. So he’s going to get me an MRI and also refer me to a specialist who can teach me to do gentle stretches.
I have back pain since my car accident in 1994, which leads my back to go out about 3-4 times a year. Each time, I’m out of work for about a week. But today I was not presenting pain symptoms. He felt my neck and shoulders and asked me a lot of questions, and gave me a preliminary diagnosis of Cervical Spondylosis (arthritis of the neck). I’m not shocked by that at all since thirteen years out from the car accident, arthritis is a given.

I just want the bleeding to go away so I can spend more intimate time with my man. We’ve waited weeks to enjoy each other, dammit!

4:46pm Edit: I went to the post-op appointment and had to walk two and a half blocks from the parking garage in the pouring rain. I had my raincoat on but my pants got a soaking. The good news is that doc tells me I’m healing up just fine. And she also explained the images she took of my pelvic region during surgery, and drew on the images with her pen to illustrate where the Endo was. Click here and here if yer not easily squicked by pictures of innards. Sorry about the crappy huge font – I couldn’t figure out how to make the font size smaller on my boyfriend’s Photoshop software, and I don’t have Photoshop installed on my ‘new’ Mac Mini, yet.
Doc tells me that the bleeding is within the realm of what could happen for the first month post-op, especially once resuming sexual activity. She tried to talk me into taking Lupron, which is chemically-induced menopause. But I’ve seen the effects of that on a friend recently, and I’m not into simulated Niacin flush hot flashes that last 20 minutes or more on a regular basis. So I’m to continue taking the Yasmin for a year with no interruption – no taking the sugar pills for the ‘week off’ to allow a period to occur. We’ll see how it all goes. The only side effects to the Yasmin so far have been slight nausea on the first day, and breast tenderness/swelling as of last night. I feel like I’ve already gone up a cup size. :(
But so far, no reports of extreme depression or any of the nasty side effects listed in the booklet.

Some day life will get back to normal and I can stop talking about george and post-op stuff. ;)

I made it through the day without more than a 600mg Ibuprofen. That’s not to say I didn’t suffer, though.

I had to go through ‘new hire orientation’ meetings today. I had to grit my teeth and steel against the pain a few times. Same thing while on the phone with customers during the little bit of phone time I did have today.

And of course, even though I had Monday off for President’s Day (that STILL sounds so silly, I never got that day off when I lived in Michigan and worked for a corporation), the email replies were still queueing up. And being off due to george and a doctor’s appointment yesterday didn’t help either. So I had a shitton of email replies to get through, as well as chasing down escalation cases dating back to last week. Thus, I stayed an hour and a half overtime today. Sure, the pay will be nice. But goddamn, I just wanted my Tylenol 3 and the bed.

On my way home, I realised I forgot to take my Yasmin pill today. Even though I set a reminder for it. WTF. This is how hectic work is to me.

Oh, forgot to tell you – this morning in the shower, the scab on my left side fell off. It left a bit of a pit-mark, but it’s a sealed wound. I can’t wait for the other two scabs to fall off. Last week, a cow-orker who had a Laparoscopy a month before me showed off her scars. They’re nothing at all! I’ll be so happy if mine heal as well as hers.

So anyway, now I contemplate dinner. And Yasmin. And pain meds. And bed.

May tomorrow bring an end to the bleeding.