We did it, Pam. We got through surgery. We found out that, within a year's time, our endometriosis goblins had grown back. And like a super hero, Dr. H and his handy little robot removed the nasty growth around our right ovary, fallopian tube and some crap growing in our posterior cul-de-sac near our poop chute. The success of surgery? Aces.
But do you feel okay? Because--let me be honest--I feel like shit. It's been taking a long time to heal, too. I shuffle, scoot and hobble around my house like an old lady. In fact, I've been day-dreaming about a walker. At least a bedazzled walker. All white rhinestones, of course.
Is this bad?
I have sharp pains in my right side, still. It's been hard to keep normal working hours (which is unbelievably frustrating), and so I've been at the mercy of my body. At the mercy of you, come to think of it. (Dammit, Pam!) I mean--it's not like it's your fault or anything, so please know that I ain't mad atcha. But if you're curious, when I need to go #1 or #2, I feel the wretched pressure of pain and cramping that would better off suit someone whom I disliked. Unlike most people, I would wish this pain on my worst enemy--because it goes away eventually, at least. I don't want to the world to think I'm a horrible person or anything, but now that I'm thinking about ways of torture...
Back to the point: We had Stage II endometriosis this time. Not as bad as last year, but think about it--that was ONE YEAR AGO! A whole lotta crap grew back in record time, and I think we did everything we could have done to prevent it. Like the Mirena IUD. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you: How do you feel about this? I mean, I think you're having cramps because of Ms. Mirena, but I haven't had the time to ask. If you think about it, let me know. I've been bringing my heating pad to work lately just in case. In fact, it feels rather nice as I write this right now, doesn't it?
Secondly, I met with Martha yesterday--our Physician's Assistant who is balls in my opinion. (Oh yes, sorry Pam, I'm using masculine terms of endearment, but "balls" means "tits" and "tits" also means "awesome." So Martha, in other words, is awesome.) She explained that Dr. H did a lot of work on our right side--like, a LOT of pipe cleaning. She showed me the pictures of our ovaries and fallopian tubes on the right. Of course, I didn't know what the hell we were looking at, but being the nerd that I am, I insisted on seeing visual evidence of the growth that was making us so sick we've lost almost 12-15 lbs in the last 2 months. Lemme tell ya--it was gross. Our right ovary was literally stuck to some other muscle wall--they call that an "adhesion." And there was a white, bumpy layer of gunk surrounding everything. Like I said, though, Dr. H licked it out of there. (No, not literally licked! C'mon, Pamela. Head out of the gutter, please. This is a serious conversation.) Either way, after removing all of the crap on our right side, it turns out the left side was virtually clean from any signs of endo. High-Five! (Or is it "High Uterus?") I don't know how you do things down there--it's not like you have hands or anything, but if you had an appendage to slap, would that be an ovary?
You should also know that there was a mass of growth in the posterior cul-de-sac. I think they also call it the "Pouch of Douglas" or something. So much for a pouch. If I had a pouch in my abdomen, I'd at least want Tory Burch to design it. Or Marc Jacobs. It would be sparkly and fun--possibly purple or cobalt blue. Yes, a cobalt blue P of D with crystal embellishment. Tasteful embellishment. Not like "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding" or anything. In the meantime,
the lessons that we should share with our Endo Sisters in pain are:
Eat a soft diet with little meat while you heal.Drink tea--without caffeine--preferably fresh herbs in hot water (a combination of: mint, rosemary, lavendar, oregano, basil, thyme) Some of these fresh herbs have anti-inflammatory powers. Also it helps you stay hydrated.
Make yourself a "nest." In other words, make a comfy place where you can lie down with your torso lifted up slightly and a pillow under your legs to help the gas flow towards your bum. As in: help yourself fart. You will feel MUCH better!
Gas-X RULEZZZZ.
Take Colace.
Drink plenty of fluids--not sugary shit, but water, tea, whatever. Fruit juice is okay in moderation to get some calories while you heal. A gingerale is nice every now and then, but I am wary to drink carbonated beverages while dealing with internal gas problems.
The "gas pain" is probably the worst part. Something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, in fact.
Get a neck/shoulder massage--preferably someone who can come to your house and massage your neck muscles while you lie, face up, somewhere dark, warm and cozy. Hopefully they won't try to get fresh.
Have people "on call" to take care of you. Trust me: you will need them.
Be open and honest with yourself. And your boss. No explanation needed, I hope. You are NOT Superwoman. Although I know you try...
Call your doctor. If anything seems awry. If you're spotting--bright red, heavily, whatever. If you have unusual pain. If, like me, you find yourself with a knock-down drag-out cold in the middle of healing. Your doctor's office will advise you what to do both homeopathically and if you can take additional medication.
It gets better. It's cliche. But it's also quite true.
So that's our story: We weren't crazy after all! Again. Be wary for now, my friend, but heal fast and let me know if I'm doing too much around here. I'm trying to take it easy, but as it turns out, there's only so much Lifetime Movie Network I can watch and the latest fantasy-romance novel I picked up has sucked me deep into a fictional portrayal of 18th century Scotland. I think you would like it, but it's already made me cry. More than once. And with our weakened, healing abdominal muscles, all I can say is: Ain't nobody got time fo' that!
What we do have time for is knowing that we have time to wait for babies. The baby factory has vacancy, but is currently not open for business. As long as you're okay with that, so am I. Be in touch, Pam.
Love,
Your Endo Sister
