Part 2: Endo What? My Diagnosis story continued...
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After surviving the whirlwind of my emergency room visit, I hauled myself back home for some well-deserved rest. Once I felt like a functioning human again, I made an appointment with the superhero doctor who had helped me navigate my ovarian cyst explosion. I remember strutting into her office, feeling like a balloon filled with hope, absolutely convinced she was the answer to my prayers. I just knew things were about to change for the better.
This compassionate doctor was a true gem, lending an attentive ear to my tales of monthly misery before concocting a strategic plan of action. She was determined to regulate my periods, so we embarked on yet another journey through the labyrinth of birth control methods. At this point, I was so done with taking those pills, but I trusted her expertise. She assured me that if this plan failed, we could attempt to insert a low-dose IUD which is what I really wanted. So, with a begrudging nod, I agreed to follow her lead.
Fast-forward year of birth control roulette later, we decided it was time for the grand IUD insertion. I strolled into the doctor's office on the big day, practically giddy with excitement at the prospect of no longer taking a pill every freaking day. Honestly, it was the first time I had ever been stoked about trying a new birth control method. Can you blame me? When you've been popping birth control pills since the age of 13, the idea of freedom from that daily routine is enough to make you want to dance.
Finally the moment had come, I laid on the table, with my legs spread eagle, the doctor began the numbing process. Holy shit, even the numbing itself was a world of hurt. But, being the trooper that I am, I gritted my teeth and braced myself for the main event. The doc started inserting the IUD, and I let out a scream so shrill, I'm sure they heard it in the next county. She numbed me some more and tried again – and again. After the third attempt, she told me she couldn't numb me any further, and recommended I see a specialist who could potentially put me to sleep to insert the IUD. I found the suggestion slightly peculiar, but she explained that my astronomical pain levels were a cause for concern and definitely not the norm. That sentence alone made me feel seen. After years of telling countless doctors about the pain I was experiencing I finally felt like one of them believed me. Her referral changed my life and I am forever grateful to her. A week later I went to see the specialist.
The specialist was an OBGYN with over 25 years of experience, and he immediately put me at ease. He asked me a series of questions about my symptoms, and after listening to my answers, he told me that he thought I had endometriosis. Endo- What? I must have looked like a deer in headlights because I had no idea what he was talking about and had never heard of the condition before. He explained to me what endometriosis was, and I felt like I had entered a new level of hell. But, I was relieved to finally have a potential diagnosis, and a few weeks later I was scheduled for exploratory surgery.
I walked into the surgery center feeling like a contestant on "Fear Factor." Nervous as hell, with my heart racing faster than a Greyhound on a racetrack. Part of me was excited to finally get some answers, but the other part was hoping the doctor could wave a magic wand and make it all go away.
After the surgery, the doctor told me I had stage 4 endometriosis. I was like, "Oh great, I have a condition that I officially need to learn how to pronounce”. He was able to remove some of the endometriosis and even threw in an IUD insertion during the surgery. The idea of not having to remember to take a pill every day gave me hope.
The recovery process was no joke. My doctor had mentioned that recovery would only be a week or two and it was a fairly easy recovery. HA! Easy for him to say when he's not the one feeling like they got hit by a bus. The first week post-surgery was like being in a boxing ring, and let's just say, I lost. It hurt to do everything. laughing, sneezing, coughing, farting...you name it. It felt like my uterus was seeking revenge for the times I had wished it would go on a permanent vacation.
It took me about 6 weeks to start feeling like my old self. After I recovered from my first surgery, I felt like I had hit the jackpot. I was living my best life, and everything seemed to be falling into place. It was like my uterus had gone on vacation and left me in peace. But, like any good vacation, it had to come to an end.
A few months later, my pain returned with a vengeance. It was like my uterus was throwing a temper tantrum. I was passing out at school and work again, and it was impacting my ability to function. I was like a walking zombie, and not the cool kind like in "The Walking Dead." I reached out to my surgeon, but unfortunately, my insurance was no longer contracted with him. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack to find another OBGYN who could help me. I felt like I was on a never-ending quest to find the holy grail of endometriosis treatment.
It was a frustrating and overwhelming experience, but I knew I couldn't give up. I needed to find a solution and finally be pain-free. So my endometriosis saga continued on.