That Girl With Endo

I'm Still That Girl

2011-09-23T20:40:00.000+10:00

I passed my one year hysterversary.

I got through one of the hardest semesters at law school.

I landed a fantastic job in a great law firm.

I got my heart broken and shattered into a thousand pieces. I can't even write about that for it's far too painful.

I just can't go there. Ever.

It was all so bitter sweet. Landing an awesome job and losing someone that had become so important to me all in the same week.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

I realised this week that I had shut myself off for well over a year. It took my body a year to recover.

I had to take a big gulp and walk through the door.

Out into the real world.

I had to be brave.

That realisation came to me as I had to confess to the pregnant girl at work that I was sick AND infertile.

I didn't want anyone to know. I still don't. I don't know how to say it or what to say.

It's not until you are in social situations and work situations that you realise that MOST women only talk about pregnancy, babies and their partners.

It's so BORING. There's so much more to talk about. Even the weather is more interesting. At least to me.

It occurred to me that I hadn't been in a situation where I had to explain myself. Because I had been hiding. From the world.

I am working in an office and it's apparent that 'something' is wrong with me.

It's not normal for a 33 year old to be suffering hot flashes. The pregnant girl that shares my office was getting rather annoyed with me taking my jacket on and off every ten minutes.

And I'm sure she's noticed when I've been popping pills.

I've only been there just over a month and I've already had two sick days and have had to leave early twice. Once I was rushed to hospital. That doesn't look good in any workplace especially a law firm.

I'm sure they've noticed that I fall silent when they discuss pregnancy and babies and husbands and boyfriends. There are two pregnant women in my office and they are ALL mothers and they ALL have husbands and partners. These topics comes up ALL the time.

I have nothing in common with these women. Absolutely nothing.

I feel so out of place. It's not that I feel like I don't belong. I know that I don't.

I feel like an outsider. Because I am. These women can talk about things that I will never be able to talk about. EVER.

Someone suggested that I simply just tell them. I could never do that. I don't want to.

In the end I had to tell the girl that I share an office with but only because she was becoming so annoyed with watching me take my jacket on and off when suffering with the evil hot flashes from the surgical menopause I must suffer through.

To tell someone on the outside that I was infertile made it real. It was as if it happened all over again.

She hasn't mentioned my taking my jacket on and off again. She also doesn't complain about being pregnant anymore.

Once again I'm the freak. The odd one out.

Not much changes.

I'm still under the duvet. I'm still wearing Durogesic patches and scoffing OxyNorms. I'm still in pain both physically and emotionally.

But I can still work a 9 hour day and hand an assignment in on time.

I'm still that girl with endo.

TGWE

(Courtesy of Google Images)

Heartbreak Hotel

2011-08-10T16:58:00.001+10:00

Everyone knows that I turn to Elvis and Eminem when I am grieving (or when I am happy).

This only confirms the presentation of intense dichotomy that I really am.

I can't eat, I can't sleep and I just can't...

I am in Heartbreak Hotel until further notice.

TGWE

I Was Supposed To Get Quality of Life!

2011-05-31T16:27:00.001+10:00

It's my Hysterversary.

I am reminded every single morning when I take my hormone replacement pills, happy pills, allergy pills, pain pills, nausea pills and herbal pills that I have endometriosis and that I'm permanently infertile.

Those pills remind me.

Some days I feel rebellious against the pills. I don't want to take them. I refuse to take them. The withdrawals always end up winning though.

And I take them.

The pills remind me that I am not a normal 33 year old girl. They remind me that I am a sick girl. They remind me that I have an incurable disease. They remind me that I'm infertile.

Every single day in the last year since my first surgery and then the second... I have been suffering with moments of what I call 'melancholy'.

Those moments overcome me. They completely floor me.

My whole body feels physical pain. I hurt all over so much so that it makes me shudder.

Fortunately those moments are only temporary... sometimes even fleeting.

But they happen all the same.

The sadness that accompanies the melancholy is excruciating.

I remember writing once that because I didn't want children YET my whole 'infertility experience' was a little unusual.

I always thought that I would think about having children when I met someone. I hadn't really entertained the thought being such a singleton.

It is one year since that surgery. The H surgery. The permanently infertile surgery.

I look at what I have become in that one year. This time last year I was furiously working in a law firm trying to organise my caseload for my absence all the while starting to scoff OxyContin and Valium just to get through the day.

I was in a terrible place. I was so sick. And so stressed.

I was desperately seeking relief. My endo was dangerous. Life threatening even. In the end I couldn't physically or emotionally handle one more 'endo episode'.

I couldn't let it control and destroy my life. I didn't care at that point in my life whether I could have children or not. I just couldn't go on with the bleeding and the agonising pain.

That and the surgeons and doctors who wanted to perform the surgery to give me 'quality of life' demanded it.

I cried and sobbed through most of the first part of 2010 because I was in physical agony. I cut myself off from my friends and family.

Then in the last half of 2010 I cried and sobbed as I recovered from two brutal and heartbreaking surgeries.

And now I find myself asking... was I brave enough? If I could have held out just a little bit longer then maybe...

Maybe I wouldn't be infertile. Maybe I could still have children. Maybe I might want to have children?

I'm still waiting for the 'quality of life' that I was supposed to get from the two surgeries last year. If quality of life means that I'm no longer wanting to die from pain then I guess that's something.

I read somewhere the other day that the recent research indicates endometriosis described as being a 'progressive' disease one in which the symptoms and disease progress and worsen. Again I find myself evidence of this.

But don't exactly feel that I'm left with a life. I still have pain. I have worse pain than I did before the surgery. That is why I feel robbed and cheated.

Of a life.

I don't have the attention span for studying. I sit in front of my desk to work hard and nothing. This from a girl who used to work full time in a law firm, study full time and have a life. I don't do any of that anymore. I wonder how much of that lack of concentration relates to the MS Contin and OxyContin use?

I find myself in a strange place. It's as if I am just existing. Going through and moving on from one day to the next. I can't dare tell anyone I feel so melancholy and sad. They'd ship me off to a loony bin quicker than you could 'MELTDOWN'.

I caught up with an old friend recently. One that I had loved for so long. They told me I was being too hard on myself with regard to the 'permanently infertile' and 'sick girl' issues that I have. He told me that a man would love me and being infertile wouldn't stop any man from being with me.

It was nice to hear that something I have been obsessing over was so lightheartedly dealt with by someone that I love.

Were they doing that just because they are my friend or have I truly become so obsessed with my melancholy that I can't see straight anymore?

I recently did some volunteer work helping some young children with their reading. I was teamed up with a group of little boys. I've always wanted a little boy.

I had a fabulous time. The little 5 year old boys that I met were just delightful. When I finished and I got into my car I sobbed and sobbed. I can't help it. I have moments where I realise that I'm permanently infertile from my surgery and I just lose it. A year later!

Something tells me that I'm going to do this 1 year or 16 years later. I guess it's because I'm mourning. The loss.

I have been smacked back to reality though. Mid terms are just weeks away and I have been slack. I have other issues going on that concern matters of the heart that have me incredibly distracted. In my melancholy state I have been staring at trees all day and not focusing.

I am back though. Back to conquer.

Because the fear of failure is enough.

After all... I am that girl with endo

TGWE

(Courtesy of Google Images)

Hysterversary

2011-05-27T08:41:00.000+10:00

It's nearly my one year Hysterversary. It's on 1 June.

I'm too melancholy to write anything. I haven't done too well lately at stringing sentences together. I have nothing in the writing department. Nothing.

Add to that I'm studying (or sometimes pretending) to study for upcoming exams.

When I look back at where I was a year ago... Well I can't get into that right now.

I'm still in mourning. I don't have anything to celebrate. I'm still in pain and on medication. I'm still sad.

I've still got problems with endometriosis.

Yes. I'm still that girl.

Big Girls Don't Cry

2011-04-19T12:06:00.002+10:00

Summer is well and truly over. I am in the middle of semester. The days are no longer hot and full of beach action.

Gone are the beach dresses, morning beach walks and spectacular sunsets. Summer romance gone. It's time for warm tracksuits and familiarity.

In fact I’m already feeling the cold. Not that most people would call my climate cold but it is winter all the same to me.

So summer is over. I have recovered from my surgery. The pain is being kept at bay (somewhat).

I survived being on campus. My exam went well and my other assessment went really well.

It feels as if I keep slamming my head into brick wall though.

Everywhere I turn my infertility slaps me in the face.

On Friday I was partnered up with a girl in my class who had just had a baby. SLAP.

The lady in front of me in the supermarket is heavily pregnant. SLAP.

The family that I see while I am getting my juice. SLAP.

The fact that I am seeing someone who has a child. SLAP.

I drove back down interstate after being on campus to stay on the beach by myself (SB is away). I never ever watch television but just wanted my mind numbed seeing as though I had been studying for weeks and weeks.

“Big mistake. Big. Huge”.

I thought re-runs of The Nanny would have been ok.

I can’t remember The Nanny struggling with becoming pregnant! Yes. Those were the images flashing in front of me.

I was too tired to change the channel. So I sat there watching it sobbing and crying. Now admittedly I am tired. I have been cramming and studying. I have also stopped (abruptly might I add) all medication.

Yes that’s right. The gabapentrin is no more. My appointment with the pain management specialist was a waste of time. 33 years, 14 surgeries, a life full of pain, $300 for 10 minutes with him and one script for gabapentrin.

That was it.

He didn’t even ask me any of the critical things! I was outraged. So is Dr Dreamy and has booked for me to see someone else closer to me.

Endometriosis pervades every part of me. It seeps into every single aspect of my life. My heart is breaking at the moment for so many reasons.

I move into the infertile territory with trepidation. I am here. But not because I want to be. I am not here because I chose to be here.

I don't want to be here! It's not my fault! I just want it to change. And then I realise it's not going to.

Some days it’s more acute than others. Some days it’s unbearable. Some days I can move right along. But most days it’s there.

Like a deep dull ache.

Empty and sad.

I haven’t written in my blog because I’m a little scared. I’m so melancholy. I’m tired. I’m broken. Heart broken and grieving for my broken body.

And definitely melancholy. Did I mention the melancholy?

Last week I did three assignments and I dropped one subject. Law school is tough but I don’t want to do too much at once. I can manage with doing two subjects.

Funny how sometimes you can really define your limits. It’s like knowing that one more glass of wine will send you over or that instinctive feeling you know when parking your car.

You just know.

I have spent whole days in bed. WHOLE days. Not studying. Not eating. Not communicating with anyone. Leading such a zombie existence.

Yet on the same hand I am still quite capable of having a shower, putting on makeup and clothes and pretending to function – like at university the other day.

And when I pretend I do it so well. But as soon as I’m done pretending I am just a crying sobbing mess.

The lack of pelvic pain that I’ve had in the last few weeks has given me something. Anxiety. I am serious. I have been having anxiety attacks because I am NOT in pain.

I can’t win. Even when I’m not in pain I am fearing that the moment of pain is just around the corner.

I am paranoid.

Every twinge, pull, stab feeling I totally freak out thinking that endo is invading me like a cancer. Which is what the doctors have told me to think.

So I had to stop taking all of the medication. Because I’m going to need it more sooner or later. And sooner or later. I want it to work well.

That… and I don’t want to find myself at NA meetings sharing cheap coffee with other addicts.

Versatile? Versatility? Versatile Blogger Award

2011-03-11T20:48:00.001+10:00

I am really really late with this one. Sometimes I just don't have any spare time.

I'm also starting to forget things. This isn't good for someone studying law and planning on becoming a barrister. Noooo. This isn't good at all.

One has important things to do… like staring at trees ;)

Today I've been so melancholy and tears have been flowing. As I was laying out in my hammock (staring at the trees) it suddenly dawned on me that I had no ovaries and I just started crying.

Now I know my surgery was in December and that was some few months ago but I guess I've been too busy recovering from the surgery and life's other challenges to really address this.

Fundamentally I feel flawed. I feel lost and empty. Remember that friend asking me if I felt empty? Well I want to call her up today and tell her I feel really empty. But I won't.

I'll silently work my way through this bout of melancholia - alone.

Some days I feel like it's Groundhog Day. I get up get my nieces off to school and then when I'm back home and the house is once again silent and I have only my border collie for company I'm overcome with such deep and profound melancholy.

And some days there are accompanying tears. I want to shake it off and some days I can. I have become an expert at 'keeping up appearances'.

I say to myself that it's a secret. That no one can know.

Most people think they've got all the time in the world to enjoy what life has to offer. Someone like me knows that this isn't the case.

Last month the fabulously talented women from Fervently Wishing bestowed the Versatile Blogger Award upon me.

I think it's wonderful that someone even wants to read what I have to say about endometriosis let alone think I deserve an award!

I like the idea of being called 'versatile' for it means 'having great diversity or variety' and I guess that is what my blog has become. The first time I blogged it was to help myself in my grief. It's helping me and has certainly opened me up to an incredible network.

Being 'That Girl With Endo' is diverse and full of variety. I am a girl struggling with a disease but I am still a girl. Hmmm I am 33 should I still be referring to myself as a girl I wonder?

And a girl's life is diverse endo or no endo. The blogs that I have chosen for this award are diverse. Their stories are powerful and profound. They make me cry and laugh. They truly are versatile bloggers. They are not all endometriosis blogs in fact some of them aren't even close. But they are all amazing in their own special way.

The Versatile Blogger Award - Here's the rules:

- Thank and link back to the person who gave you the award.

- Award 15 recently discovered great bloggers.

- Contact the bloggers to let them know you've given them an award.

My list and in no particular order:

The Fibromyalgia & Endometriosis Theory

A Portrait of the Human Heart

An Unguided Missile

Girl Interrupted

Life, Love, and Living It

Endo Confessions

Who Will Tell Their Story

Days in Life of a Pakistani Girl

Finding Her Way

My Autoimmune Life

The Mud and the Lotus

The Fabulous Miss Ruby

Grief Interrupted

Wandering Thoughts

Thoughts from the Girl Next Door

Knock Knock. Who's There. Motivation. Who?

2011-03-11T09:32:00.000+10:00

Ok. I'm going to admit it. I feel like an absolute loser today.

I also feel really angry. I have so many conflicting dynamics at the moment it's all becoming a little too much.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

First I have my 'Endo Battle'. I have become so sick that I can no longer work. I used to work in a law firm. I am studying but not full time and I'm just making it through. I am helping my Mum raise my nieces and therefore have some responsibilities there.

I didn't choose to be sick. I didn't choose to do the parent things that my sister should be doing. So… I get angry. And frustrated.

Because I remember when life was different. When I lived in my apartment in the city. I had a great job and a fabulous life.

That's all gone now. I'm living at home in my parents house with my stuff in an expensive storage shed. I no longer have my law firm income and instead rely on my parents for support. Retail therapy is but of a distant memory.

Sleeping in. Hmmm. What's that? Some days I am so lethargic and so tired I can barely make it out of bed.

Today was one of those days. But I couldn't stay in bed. I had to get up and get Niece 5 to school. That takes energy and strength. Little people are quite chatty in the mornings. My foggy brain finds it hard to cope.

When I get really angry and frustrated I remember that this is what my sister should be doing at 7.30 in the morning. But of course that's impossible and I can't think like that. I have to shake it off.

It's nearly the end of week 2 at uni. I've done hardly a thing. I'll be honest. I have been slacking off big time. I am overwhelmed with case law, lectures, tutorials, text book readings. I am literally drowning and I have to try and get motivated to get on top.

I just feel so apathetic. I don't know what's wrong with me. I have tried to force myself to sit and listen to my lectures but I just want to lay in my hammock and stare at the trees.

Yes the trees. I just want to laze away and do nothing. And I have been. I have been in so much pain I've need pain meds so I guess you could say I'm lazing there woozing away.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

Admittedly most of that slacking off time was spent either being extremely sick or with a certain someone. That certain someone has gone now off to enjoy a festival somewhere before flying out offshore again. I have SO much reading to do before the end of the weekend.

Even more depressing is my weight. When I was talking to a certain someone the other night it was lightly mentioned twice.

Now when I say lightly mentioned I mean it was mentioned. Twice. But not in a bad way. Let's just say it can hardly go unnoticed.

My body has very quickly changed since my surgery in December. I met a certain someone in December. Since then my body has curved out. Let's just say I have booty now. But along with that I now have incredible stretch marks. As I am rapidly developing another figure my skin is screaming. I had better start rubbing that special cream into it.

It's true I am not doing the physical exercise I used to. I should. But I just can't be bothered. The thought of jumping up and down and dancing and doing weights just makes my little fat self just want to fall in a heap. I just want to eat chocolate and watch Desperate Housewives.

It's no wonder that today I have the blues. I feel like I can't catch a break in that life is throwing me curve balls from all directions and I just can't even begin to catch them so I'm just letting them all hit me.

Sad Songs (Say So Much)

2011-03-09T17:15:00.002+10:00

It is Endometriosis Awareness Month. I would encourage any reader to visit the Hope2Endure site. My story is there together with some incredible women that are doing amazing things to raise awareness for Endometriosis.

I have been raising as much awareness as I can in my state. If that means that all I can do is let everyone on Facebook know and random strangers then I am doing a little contribution.

I went over my Hope2Endure story and I realised that it is extremely outdated and I remarked at how much can happen in as little as a few months.

I saw the pain management specialist on Tuesday. I had never been to pain management specialist before. Remarkable considering how long I've had endo. Rather ironic that my appointment was on Yellow Shirt Day.

I have had endo since my teens and have treated it with pharmaceutical pain killers and every single herbal, chinese, alternative potion together with diet and exercise.

But I still have pain. Intense pain. My life is pain. All I know now is pain.

I was disappointed. Severely.

I waited an hour and half to see him. I thought it really insensitive that a pain management clinic had the most uncomfortable chairs to sit in.

I also thought it extremely rude that they charge several hundred dollars for an appointment and they didn't provide any good reading material. I really think it's rude when surgeons and doctors do that. They charge an absolute fortune and keep us waiting but don't care for our comfort.

Think about it for a moment because it really perplexes me.

I had my pain journal that I have been keeping since last August. When my life really became the hell that it is today.

I pulled it out of my bag and started to tell him about my life since my hysterectomy. I told him that every single day since that operation my life has been different. A life full of pain.

I had it all documented. Every single feeling, every single dosage of medication and also a description of how my life was adversely affected.

He didn't even want to look at it. He was only interested in me describing my pain.

I told him about the deep burning pelvic pain. The pain where sometimes I feel like my pelvic is going to disintegrate. The pain that I call 'the ghost of my right ovary'. The despair. The incredible amounts of morphine, oxycodone and valium that I take that doesn't really work for the pain only to reduce the screaming.

Immediately he said that my pain is 'nerve pain'. That the endometriosis has damaged my nerves. He also said that the aggressive and extensive endometriosis was attacking my body. He said he couldn't help with me that pain and that nothing could be done that I wasn't already doing. In fact he said that he was surprised that I was able to exercise and study. I told him I was an 'Endo Warrior'.

He has prescribed a drug called gabapentrin. I have done a little research on this drug. I have a timetable from him for the next 5 weeks in which I keep taking all the 'opiates' and introduce this new drug into my system increasing the dosage every single day.

I have taken it for a few days and I am suffering the drowsiness I have read about that is the most reported side effect. Doh. I don't like woozy drugs. Not when I'm studying. I am week two into constitutional law, my second part of contract law and the new environmental law subject. I can't be woozy! I'm supposed to be at my sharpest.

Yet again I find myself with challenges that are far out there. Do I ask too much? Am I setting unreachable standards for myself only to find out that I am going to be bitterly disappointed? I remind myself that I just breezed passed equity law. Well ok I didn't 'breeze' as such. But I did walk all over it. A subject in which half way through I had an operation, recovered and then triumphed.

I have to remind myself of the little victories that I can achieve to keep me going. To stop me from thinking I'm insane for thinking that I can.

So another poison and no new answers. Again I feel like I have been kicked. I just can't get rid of the endo.

It's haunting me. It's overtaken my life.

I feel like I want what I call my 'Former Life' back. I am grieving for it. I want it back. It was mine. I don't want this one.

My study load this semester is overwhelming. When I saw Dr Dreamy today he had a university student with him. He asked me if I minded having them sit in and of course I was obliging. He sat there and gave them my background and I started to get really teary and emotional. Hearing your endo story from one professional to another was quite confronting. I again have realised that I am in an extremely bad place.

The pain was incredible and intense today. Yesterday I was fine. Great in fact. I didn't need to take any pain medication at all. Not even a panadeine forte and I didn't need my heat pack. Today I have been scoffing the oxynorms and needing a morphine shot while clutching onto a heat pack. I am curled up on my bed with my laptop. I can't keep going today. I have to stop and rest.

I really have to force myself to rest and relax. When the pain gets to an excruciating level where I am unable to ignore it and it consumes me then I stop. I don't have a choice. I am completely disabled by the pain.

When I was filling my script at the pharmacy the girl who always serves me and knows my story asked me how I was going. I was still teary and emotional from my appointment with Dr Dreamy. I told her about the pain specialist and the gabapentrin and she saw that I was holding a heat pack to my back.

I don't care what people think anymore. I walk around the shops with a heat pack attached to my back. I don't care about the stares and I don't care what people think. The pelvic pain (or rather nerve pain) is just so intense that it makes my legs quiver and the heat pack eases it somewhat. Two years ago I wouldn't have dreamed of walking around the shops in daggy uncomfortable clothes clutching a heat pack - now I couldn't give…

It's incredible the things we change in our lives when adapting to chronic pain. It's amazing the differences the small and the large. This morning when I woke up at the spunky boys place I felt the heat pack under me. He was up earlier than I was for a surf and must have heated it up and put in just in the spot where I like to have it. I was so touched that someone could be so thoughtful to my needs, so observant as to know where to put it and so comfortable with my requirements that again I got teary and emotional. I cried into my pillow. But those were happy tears. I've only ever endured these moments alone. I've never had someone else with me.

I am scared about embarking on a relationship with someone and being so incredibly unwell. I am 'that girl with endo' after all and lately I am acutely aware that I am the 'sick girl'. We don't talk about it much. It's not like it's an elephant in the room or anything it's just that we don't have to. He can see when I am struggling.

I suppose I should really ask him what he really thinks. The more I am typing this the more I am thinking I probably should have before. Although we have a connection that is phenomenal to say the very least and I think if something had've been an issue it would have already been talked about.

I don't like 'the sick girl' status. I try so hard not to let it show but it's getting to the stage where I just can't help it. It's obvious. People can tell I'm in pain. Strangers can. It's surprising how many people will look at me with knowing eyes. Eyes that know pain. I am desperately seeing my 'former life'. The one is which I wasn't sick. The one where I wasn't forced into the foetal position needing morphine just to stop screaming.

Endometriosis has done this to me. It's robbed me of my life. A life I had such potential for. I could be doing amazing things and I can't. At least not right now. This makes me frustrated, angry and sad.

I wonder if my youth is going to be wasted away from this disease stripping me of enjoyment. It's already taken away my chances of being a mother and having my own baby.

I have been trying not to think of my infertile status. I have met someone who has a child and I guess perhaps that is a blessing in disguise. I watch him with her and he's an incredible father and I think how fortunate he is to be able to experience that love. Parental love.

I am feeling disheartened about raising awareness about endometriosis. I feel like it is beating me today. I think it's alright for me to have those days. I am that girl with endo and it does happen.

The last week of summer :(

2011-02-26T22:34:00.000+10:00

I survived my exam. It was brutal. But I passed. Not my best marks (in fact they were the worst I've had) but good all the same. Another subject done and dusted.

I drove from the exam to spend some time with my dearest friends in the city that were having their last weekend there before moving to the Australian outback. To say I am going to miss them is an understatement.

I have spent the last few weeks enjoying the last of the summer and a break from my normal hectic university schedule. I dropped the spunky boy off to his flight and he has been gone for nearly 3 weeks and will return in a few days. I am beyond excited about that!

The surf and the sun have been my friends over the last few weeks. I don't know when I'll next have a chance to be this free so I have seized the moment every single day.

I have done many day trips and explored beaches that I haven't been to before. I live on the east coast of Australia so there are plenty to choose from.

And what about endo? What about the despair? What about the melancholy?

They never left. They are always with me.

I have had moments where I have truly struggled. But I have been engaging in some rather unhealthy behaviour.

A holistic approach to healing called denial.

Yes that's right. Denial.

I can't deny the pain but I can deny what it is doing to me.

To combat this denial I finally have an appointment with the pain management specialist on Tuesday. In a sick and twisted way I am looking forward to this appointment.

Why?

I've only ever spoken with surgeons and general practitioners about my endo. I have never had the benefit of specialist before. I'm really interested in what he is going to say to me. And more importantly - prescribe for me. When I say prescribe I don't necessarily mean drugs either. I mean treatment.

A treatment plan. A proper pain management plan.

I haven't blogged of late. I haven't been emailing and tweeting much either. I have been soaking up the Aussie sun and trying to be positive. I did say trying.

I went back to the gym last week. I have been itching to do some physical exercise yet my body has been telling me to go easy. The tough stickers on my tummy are a constant reminder.

I started dancing when I was 3 years old. I studied classical ballet for many many years. So when I got back on the dance floor at the gym I felt invigorated.

For one whole hour I danced non-stop. I stared back at the girl in the mirror. Who was she? She looked different. Much curvier.

I was smiling as I was able to keep up with everyone else despite my never doing a class before. It was fun. The music was great and the teacher was awesome. As I was dancing I was running over in my head exactly how many of these classes I could go to in a week. I couldn't wait to go to my next one. I was excitedly planning on dancing a few times a week.

When I was in the change rooms one of the other women who I had seen in the dance class smiled at me and said "isn't it great that we can make the mother's class?"

THE WHAT?

Apparently the class I went to was the 'mother's class'. Yes that's right. All those yummy mummies can do the dance class and have their little ones looked after while they dance away.

I ran into the toilets and vomited.

When I got into my car I started crying. The dance class had made me feel awesome. The reminder about my infertility stung. I was so excited. Now I never want to go back.

Three steps forward and ten steps backwards.

I then got angry. Really angry. More angry than I've ever been.

I felt dangerous. I went home and shut myself off. Again.

I wanted to smash things. I wanted to throw things. I wanted to scream and yell. The room was spinning. I was starting to panic.

I felt like one of those grieving Iranian women who beat their own chests in moments of grief. At that moment I truly understood this concept.

Only I did none of these things. I just sat on my bed and stared at the palm trees outside my bedroom window. I didn't cry or sob. I wailed.

Knock knock. Who's there. Infertile Loser that's who.

That night as I lay in bed my pelvic pain was roaring. It was so incredible that it felt like my pelvis was going to disintegrate into the mattress. That's the only way I can describe it.

Morphine was administered. And the next day. And the next. And the next. Right up until today. Today was my first day without any painkillers.

As if all of that isn't awful enough I am now suffering from what Dr Dreamy calls 'altered body image' (ABI). I was thin before. Now I have curves.

Womanly curves I am told.

I am filling out faster than you can say 'Beyonce'. And it's all thanks to surgical menopause.

Am I happy with this new figure? I'm not sure. I like the womanly curves. It makes me feel sexier most definitely. But it's a different body. It's not the body I had for 33 years. If it didn't come with stretch marks I would be a lot happier.

I am starting to feel desperate. I want my life back. I want my body back. I want to be able to be strong enough when someone slaps me in the face and reminds me that I'm infertile.

I want this to be now. But it seems that now is not the time. I am that girl with endo and I am still losing the battle against endo.

A Rebel With Endo

2011-02-11T07:47:00.001+10:00

I would like to share a blog post with you first. Old Enough by The Mud and The Lotus. Today I am telling myself that I am "Old Enough".

It’s the end of summer semester. Which means exams. Today. The day the hot water decided not to work.

I am one of those people that need to have a shower before I start the day. Before I even think. Needless to say I am not very happy about this predicament. It’s raining otherwise I would just hit the surf.

I’ll have you know I’ve been busy. I have reached the stage in my health where I am requiring morphine shots if I want to do anything with my day.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

Let me break it down for you so that you can understand. I suffer from phenomenal amounts of pain from my endo. A simple glance at this blog will tell you that it haunts me.

My hysterectomy haunts me. Infertility haunts me. Endo haunts me.

I refuse quite vehemently and quite passionately that this will prohibit me from doing what I want in my life. A rebel with endo.

When I am completely and utterly disabled with pain I take drugs for that pain – a lot of drugs. I take a lot of drugs so that I can keep going. I don’t want to lie around in bed in excruciating agony. I don’t want to have days completely stripped of me.

That’s not to say that I don’t lie around in bed because I do. Yesterday I had planned to study ALL day for my upcoming exam on Friday. I have my study plan for my cramming all worked out down the last hour. Yesterday I got a migraine. One where I was completely wrecked and couldn’t open my eyes let alone do anything productive. Yesterday I spent the whole day in bed.

When I saw Dr Dreamy last week he prescribed my normal pain medicaiton from my pain management plan. I told him that I was sick of the moments where I am in such incredible pain that there is no escape. I asked for him something to get rid of it. The strongest thing he’s got.

He trusts me. He trusts that I won’t and don’t abuse drugs. I have been his patient for a long time and he has been such a fantastic doctor. I thank G-d for him every day. I don’t even want to think about what it would be like without the care and treatment from such a fantastic doctor.

I now have take home morphine injections. My mother is a nurse so administering them is no problem but Dr Dreamy suggested that I should probably learn how to administer myself for those screaming moments in the middle of the night or when my Mum isn’t around.

Part of dealing with the fact that I have an incurable painful disease is acknowledging what I have to do to manage my life with this pain. Have I really come to this I thought as I was filling the script. Injecting myself with drugs. Opiate drugs at that. I don't want to think about it too much.

I can’t do it myself. Mum has tried to teach me and I just can’t. I suck at getting the stuff drawn up and I suck at the preparation. I was going a friend’s place last week and I was so sick I had to mention it. He said he is good with stuff like that and didn’t mind. I had to get it out there. If I am going to stay at someone’s place for 2 nights I have to make a disclaimer about that.

How do I feel having one of my friends (and an intimate one at that) administering my pain injections.

Awful. Devastated. Vulnerable.

I don’t need people and suddenly I need people to do the most important and intrusive things. More to the point I will become reliant upon them.

Most guys that date new girls have to contend with meeting the parents. Mine have to contend with giving me morphine shots and watching me suffer. I don't know why this amazing person thinks I'm wonderful. Some days I feel as if I am some disease ridden addict. Not a passionate blonde human and environmental rights advocate.

I have suddenly found myself with ‘needle knowledge’ albeit rather pathetically. I am struck with the fact that in order to do anything productive with my life I have to take morphine and narcotic pain medication. I can decided not to but that would render me screaming and crying and wasting my life around in bed.

This is not everyday. I have days where I don't even need the mildest of pain medication. It's amazing that I can go one day needing huge amounts of morphine and then the next absolutely nothing.

To be honest with you the morphine injections don’t get rid of all the pain. I have had moments in the last week where my pelvic pain was so intense and so excruciating that holding onto the kitchen bench and closing my eyes is the only thing I can do that keeps me from screaming. Flares of such incredible pain that retrospectively is annihilating.

I have a life to live. I am studying for summer semester finals. I have a huge 70% exam to sit. My group assignment experience that ended in disaster also ended in low marks. Not extremely bad but enough to make me have to work just that little bit more harder.

Studying law is different to any of my undergraduate studies. Preparing for a law exam is different to others. I have had to learn a technique that is new and I have to have really good notes. I have some great notes. I just need to do some more in depth case readings and practice with some past exams.

Despite the pain, despite the morphine, despite the exam stress, despite the family dramas (teenager in the house enough said) I have had time to reflect on my health news, spend some time with a certain spunky boy and really go deep. We went away day tripping at the end of last week on the days when it was so incredibly hot.

We drove down through the moutains to a really tripped out hippy mountain town and walked around looking at funky art galleries, hippy craft shops and hemp cafes. I even did something that I never do and had my cards read by a Native Indian man. My mother being a fundamentalist Christian would absolutely die. I am not sure why I did it I just did. It was all part of the fun day I was having and being caught up in the moment.

Sometimes I like to pretend that I am normal and don’t have endo. That I am just an ordinary 33 year old woman out for the day. It only takes but mere moments of painful little reminders to let me know this is not the case.

In the evening we drove up to Bryon Bay one of my favourite places that I’ve written about before. I love being so close and connected to the beach. I’ve grown up on the east coast so I’ve had the beach, lake and mountains at my disposal for so long. It is so wonderful to have met someone that has the same yearnings. He bought me the most incredible necklace in an art gallery that is just exquisite. I have been spoilt!

This week I have been in pre exam stage which means I am in lockdown cramming for finals. I met up with the spunky boy (who by the way is going to have to get a name for this blog – any suggestions?) for breakfast a few times but I really had to focus on study.

He has now left for two weeks. How have I managed to study and spend time with someone in the midst of this incredible health news and pain? I just push through it. I ignore it.

I gave myself the usual 24 hours that I allow after my initial news last week. I cried and sobbed and became angry and bitter. When the 24 hour period was up I shook myself off and got on with it. I have loads of study to do, two nieces to care for and a life to live.

What does this mean for endo? What more can I do? Manage the pain. I do that with pain medication whether it be taking tablets or having morphine shots in my arm. I am scared that this is what my future is. Taking opiate drugs in order to exist. To function. To particpate in life.

I can’t not take drugs. The pain is too much. I have a right to live and a right to participate. If it means that I have to get a shot of morphine in my arm then so be it. I do worry about long term but I have to shake it off. I have just been told that I have a disease so painful and so mysterious and so aggressive they don’t know what to do with me.

Staring that in the face is mind blowing. Right now I am just going to live my life as I would anyway. What else can I do? I can’t sit around in agony and think about how the disease is destroying my life. I just can’t.

I was at the beach on Sunday with my niece and that certain spunky guy and his daughter. We had just spent the day all of us taking in the wonders of where we live and because the day was so incredibly hot decided to head to the beach to cool off. As he was playing with the girls I was sitting in the waves at the shoreline. The pelvic pain was intense. I really wanted to grab a heat pack and curl up in the foetal position and pass out.

But I just took more pain medication. And went on. Until I meet with the pain management specialist this is what I am going to do. I am really interested in seeing what a pain management specialist is going to recommend.

Managing your life is difficult. Managing your life with a chronic and painful disease is an entirely new ball game. The rules are different. The game is different. Everything is different. I am that girl with endo but I am also a rebel with endo that has an exam to sit.

Don't Try To Describe The Ocean If You've Never Seen It

2011-02-02T13:42:00.003+10:00

I thought I knew what despair felt like. I thought I knew what it felt like to be hopeless.

I thought I was brave enough and strong enough to stare these things right in the face and overcome them.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

That was before my post op appointment.

I can't even describe how I feel now.

My post op appointment kept getting postponed due to the flood crisis here. My surgeon's office is in the CBD and was closed and he only reopened to see patients.

I had been feeling more upbeat. I have been back to the beach, kayaking, doing yoga, swimming in the ocean. All of the things that I love and that make me feel good.

My scars were healing and I was getting back my body confidence.

There is also the spunky boy factor as well. I have a loved up feeling that I've never felt before. It was making me glow.

That glow is gone now. Replaced with a cloud of darkness.

My appointment was on Monday. I always end up going by myself. I also always end up crying all the way home devastated by the images and discussions about the state of my health.

The spunky boy told me he was taking me. He wanted to drive me and come with me. I was a bit taken aback with this request. No one has ever wanted to really come with me. I always seem to battle these appointments alone.

I said yes. I am learning that sometimes we have to let people do things for us so that they can care for us and express their love and kindness.

So we drove up together to the CBD. We had lunch in the city and then I headed upstairs to my appointment. He was more than happy to wait around.

When I walked in to see Dr G I knew the news was going to be bad. He actually looked really sad.

I sat down and he looked at me and asked how I had been doing. I started raving about how I was swimming and doing yoga and he stopped me right there. He asked me about the pain.

I told him about the huge amounts of excruciating agony I have been having. The endo flares.

He asked me if I was prepared to look at the photographs from the surgery. I said yes.

I regret that decision.

I can't get the visions out of my mind now. I see them flashing before my eyes while I am driving, while I am trying to study and while I am trying to sleep.

He said your insides are "fcuked". Yes he used that word. He said he had never ever seen endometriosis this bad ever before. He said he had to make some international calls before he saw me so that he knew how to properly deal with me.

Remember when he said it looked like endometriosis confetti had been spread throughout my pelvic cavity in June? He reminded me of that and then showed me the photographs.

He said forget confetti it looks like someone has attacked you with an oxy torch. He said the endometriosis was so aggressive that he and his colleagues had never seen anything like it. No textbook could prepare a surgeon for this he said.

They had to turn the cameras up and around as the endo had spread far beyond my pelvic cavity. He said I had endo in "rare places". I asked him what were the rare places and he told me I didn't want to know. I left it there.

I remember my pain that was high in my abdomen and the swelling. The strange pain. I asked him about that. He said that there was endo high up under the abdominal wall.

I nearly lost it. I was trying to keep composed. I was trying to keep it together.

He was genuinely really upset when he was talking to me. I said where do we go from here. He looked at me and he said "you are a very sick girl with a very aggressive disease that is attacking your body… the only thing left to do is to manage your life and your pain".

This is when I did lose it. I couldn't stop the tears. I couldn't stop the anger. I asked him "is this it… is there nothing left we can do?"

He said I could try the cancer drug Zoladex as there would be active endo deposits left that they just couldn't get and this might help with the aggressive nature of my disease and the inevitable spread of endo.

I asked him if he thought it would help and he sadly shook his head and said "not with a case like yours".

I refuse to take that drug anyway. I've been on it before several times and it did absolutely nothing except make me feel terrible only to have more surgery 8 months later where they found I was full of active endo and adhesions. Think Lupron only worse.

I put my hand over my mouth as I was starting to panic. I had to concentrate on my breathing because I know I was having a panic attack. I was panicking because here I was sitting with an expert who was telling me there wasn't anything he could do for me.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I don't even want to have someone suggest second opinions to me. He is the best. He was the 5th surgeon. He is the end of the line. I don't want people telling me not to give up. I don't have anything to hold onto to give up.

I am angry. I am sad. I am desperate. I am inconsolable.

It's not fair. I am brave and I am strong. But this is just beyond anything I can cope with.

I gathered myself up. I collected myself. I looked at him. It felt as if our relationship was over in that there is nothing he can do for me. I guess when I get really bad again I will be seeing him again for more surgery to remove the inevitable endo that will be there soon if not already.

I got into the lift and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn't want to lose in front of L. We hardly know each other. It was nice that he drove me and wanted to come with me but faced with the fact that he would be waiting for me at the lift was too much. I sucked it all up.

He had the car waiting at the bottom of the building. I got in the car and waiting on the seat was a present beautifully gift wrapped. I looked at him and I guess my look was enough. He didn't ask me anything.

I unwrapped my gift. It was a beautiful necklace of one of my favourite pieces of art. I was so incredibly touched I nearly cried. I wanted to cry. I remembered why I drive myself home. I don't like to cry in front of people.

The strong confident brave woman that I present myself to be must be preserved. I never ever let anyone see me weak and vulnerable.

We drove back down the coast to his place. He gathered up all my favourite foods and wine and we kayaked out to the secluded beach. We paddled around the mangroves and then sat on the beach drinking wine and watching the sunset. I told him briefly some of what the surgeon said. I didn't express my pain and despair. I didn't have to. It was in my voice. All over my face.

Behind him in the water I saw movement. It was a mother dolphin and her baby. We walked to the water's edge and watched them play in front of us. The sunset was magical. Watching the dolphins and looking at him I felt as if there is still beauty in my world. There are still moments of absolute wonder and pleasure. I just have to grasp them when I can.

I spent the night there and the raging endo flare pain came back. I took an incredible amount of drugs and it was still there. I don't know how I got through the night not screaming and crying. I snuck out early the next morning and cried all the way home. Deep sobbing. I screamed out that it wasn't fair.

I didn't want to go to work. I just couldn't face it. But I did. I put on a fantastic outfit and I headed for the train. The whole train ride I was studying for my upcoming exams. Each time my thoughts ran to my predicament I just shook it off. I told myself that if I just got through the day then when I got home I could shut myself off in my room and cry and sob.

I did just that. I made it through the day. When I got home my mother had filled my room with my favourite flowers. She had tidied my room and put new sheets on the bed. That is when I lost it.

I took a handful of valium and climbed under the duvet. I slept until it was time to get my nieces off to school this morning. Then I went to see Dr Dreamy.

We went over everything. I cried and cried. He was upset too. He is such a lovely, kind and caring man and I think he really gets upset that there is nothing they can do. He said I need to start thinking that my endo is like cancer. Attacking my body aggressively destroying my life.

Destroying my life.

He then suggested that I explore other alternative treatments. There is a clinic in India that are doing some out there research with stem cells. I am waiting on a call about this today.

I am at the end of the road. I only have morphine injections, oxycodone and valium as my weapons. I have gone off the oestrogen patch and am taking Livial which is a synthetic form. I want to deprive my body of oestrogen as that is the one thing that we know about endo. It needs oestrogen.

I don't know where to go from here. I have shut myself off. I am not taking calls. I am not wanting to see anyone. Especially the spunky guy.

He likes me because I am bright and energetic. I am full of life and vivacious. He loves that I am independent, brave and strong.

I am not that person this week. This week I am cowering in my Infertility Tower. A wreck of a woman full of despair and hopelessness.

I don't ever let anyone know this side of me and I definitely won't be letting him. At least not this early on. He was going away this week but he cancelled that and is going next week.

But I am now answering the phone. For anyone. I am not going anywhere. Even the beach. I am that girl with endo and I am hiding.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

Stylish Blogger Award

2011-01-30T16:38:00.004+10:00

I have been extremely busy the last few weeks. I haven't had time to concentrate on my blog or my favourite blogs. After my recovery from surgery we were hit with the flood crisis and I was extremely active in my Gumboots Mission. I then had two assignments to do for summer school and of course there has been the love factor (that is spending a lot of time with a special someone).

I was absolutely thrilled the other morning when I checked my emails and I found a 'Stylish Blogger Award' waiting for me from the amazing young woman at The Road Less Travelled. I am honoured that not only has someone so fabulous read my blog but also chose me for an award! Thank you.

The rules for accepting this award are:

Thank and link back to the person who has awarded you.
Award 15 other bloggers.
Contact these bloggers and tell them about the award.

I have chosen 15 blogs that I try to regularly read when time permits. These blogs are powerfully written and the writers expose themselves in the most profound way.

Their writing should not only be acknowledged but highly commended as well. I hope that this blog award will do just that. If you haven't read any of the blogs in my list I would encourage you to do so.

My list of 15 in no particular order:

The Mud and the Lotus

The Miss Ruby

Living with Endometriosis

A Portait of the Human Heart

T he Fibromyalgia & Endometriosis Theory

An Unguided Missile

Fervently Wishing

Wandering Thoughts

Life: Love, & Livin' In It

Endo Confessions

My Autoimmune Life

His and Hers Infertility

Single Infertile Female: Now What?

The Suburban Princess Diaries: Meet the Suburban Princess

Gizellie's Gab

Let's Talk About.... IT!

2011-01-30T15:59:00.003+10:00

This blog post was drafted on 23 January 2011. I just haven't had time to post it until now.

Disclaimer: Dad this is one post that you don't want to read. Mum if you have decided to read my blog same goes for you. This is my space for talking about my personal journey with endo and this is not a parent friendly post. I guess what I am trying to say is from now on my blog posts are not parent friendly.

Let's talk about sex. Or rather let's talk about sex and endo.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

I have been struggling with my body since my hysterectomy in June 2010. Just when I thought I could grasp what this meant for my body I had to have yet another surgery in December 2010.

All of my female reproductive organs have been taken. I am left with nothing.

Just one ugly estrogen patch as a constant reminder.

At drinks the other night with some gal pals again I was once again asked "do you feel empty? do you feel like a woman?" I fight back tears every time someone asks me that. You wouldn't believe how common a question it is. It seems that all women want to know this.

I have spoken of my relationships and friendships with women before. This is just another thing that separates me from them. Or maybe I just meet really ignorant women. I know that I would never ask someone that question. Yes I most certainly would enquire as to how they feel but I would be sensitive as to how I would word it.

Then the subject went onto sex. Yes sex. The girls asked me if I have 'done it' since the surgery. I told them no. They were all mildly disappointed. It was almost as if they were disappointed that they weren't going to hear something shocking and painful.

I have truly struggled not only with my body but my female identity. I don't feel that I am less of a woman. But it seems other women do. I wonder why that is?

Why are women so quick to point out that I am no longer a woman anymore? Shouldn't they be the first to reassure me? Can someone please enlighten me on this?

What I have struggled with is my body image and sexuality.

I have been scared. Scared that I won't be able to function. Scared that the 'vaginal cuff' my surgeon so expertly created would be felt. Scared that all my natural and healthy desire would be gone.

Scared that it would be painful. Scared that I wouldn't like it anymore. Scared that my future intimate relationships are going to be fraught with difficulty and pain.

The internet is not really helpful in this area. The wonderful site HysterSisters is incredibly informative but not for the younger woman.

And definitely not for the single girl.

To be honest there is not much information for a young single woman on this area. This is a lonely scary place for a girl in my position.

I don't really want to discuss this with Dr Dreamy. He is my family doctor. I love him and I truly believe I could talk to him about anything. But I don't want to talk to him about this.

The morning of my hysterectomy I asked my surgeon about removing my cervix and what effect this would have on my future sex life and orgasm. I had to ask him. He was about to go inside and take it away from me. I would be a fool not to ask.

He shrugged my comment off telling me that the cervix has nothing to do with having an orgasm and that it is all to do with the clitoris. I was perplexed with this as I distinctly remember a tv show aptly called SEX where they filmed the insides of a woman having an orgasm. I remember seeing that the cervix contracted.

So that left me thinking. What would he know anyway? He's a man! Should I really be listening to a man advising me on sexual intimacy and orgasms?

I had to have my cervix removed as I was having a vaginal hysterectomy. They have to remove that to get to the uterus. I didn't want an abdominal hysterectomy so it had to happen.

The months after my hysterectomy were full of excruciating pain. Sex and intimacy was the last thing on my mind. More importantly I wasn't in a relationship and to be honest I didn't care. I was in so much pain and so depressed physical intimacy was the last thing on my mind.

A lot of women struggle with sex and endo. They struggle because of their chronic pain, their low libido, medication, surgery and hormonal therapy. And there are more reasons that I just have probably neglected to list. There are just so many layers to this. Dyspareunia is the medical term for painful sex.

I have suffered the humiliation of needing to be hospitalised because of this. I was rushed to hospital once in my early 20's screaming and screaming. I thought I had endo on my appendix. It turned out I had endometriosis on the Pouch of Douglas.

I myself don't have much pain during sex. There have been times when it has been excruciating but for the most part I have gotten off rather lightly in comparison to other women. This one thing really affects a lot of relationships and leaves women feeling alone and miserable.

This is an area that a lot of people don't talk about and they should. Women with endo need to support each other in this area. We are alone and scared. And we shouldn't be. The fundamental reason that blogs like this and facebook groups exist is so that we can share and understand our fears about this incredible disease.

No woman should feel scared and ashamed about anything to do with her body and her endo. I would hate to think of a fellow endo sister out there struggling with sex and her sexuality and not feeling that she had anywhere to turn to.

I am really lucky. I have a fantastic endo sister that I can talk to about everything. In fact she was the one that told me to start this blog. We tell each other everything. So the other night I was once again reaching out to her seeking comfort and advice on this very sensitive issue.

I told her my fears. I told her I was scared. It sounds silly but I felt like a teenager asking questions about losing my virginity and the situation really does compare.

As we all know I am dating someone pretty fantastic. So this was an important conversation to have with my friend. Once again this truly wonderful endo sister was there for me when I was in absolute despair. She eased my fears and made me laugh.

I searched deep within and told him my fears.

Yes I boldly shrugged off some of that body armour and opened myself up to him. I told him about my fears - I named them one by one. Instead of freaking out and running away I sat down with him and bravely told him.

I am not sure what I expected him to say. I am not sure how I expected him to react. It is still early days and we are still getting to know one another. This was so important to me that I felt I should just 'get it out there'.

I must like him because normally I would just think it 'too hard' and do the mad dash towards the exit sign. I don't want to this time. I want to be with this person.

I didn't want him left wondering. I didn't want him confused. I didn't want him to think I was a freak because I am that girl with endo.

As I was talking to him he was stroking my hair. Listening. Actually listening. He didn't interrupt me. He told me that I was beautiful and that of course I should be scared. He didn't make me feel ashamed or uncomfortable. He was genuinely intrigued that such a confident young woman would be scared and feeling vulnerable.

I guess it hadn't crossed his mind.

When I was leaving he told me that the only important thing right now is that we spend as much time with another as possible. I drove home with my heart fluttering like a pidgeon in a paper bag.

Environmental Management

2011-01-19T10:02:00.001+10:00

I am beyond exhausted. Since the devastating events of last week I have not stopped.

I have been working with a friend of mine on our Gumboots Mission. We went up to the devastated areas of Brisbane and Ipswich to assist with the clean up.

It is being called 'Salvation Saturday'. Nearly 12,000 people arrived in the city to help. The Aussie spirit was alive. There were people everywhere all helping strangers.

We worked on two houses that had been flooded to the roof. I went to a poorer area and helped out with the army there. I am still rather shell shocked and find I can't write about it or even talk about. The incredible things that I have seen will stay with me for a very long time.

The law school is still closed so my second summer semester subject will no longer be undertaken. To be honest I am glad. I am too tired to even consider attempting it.

I spent the whole weekend shovelling mud, sweeping up water, cleaning out furniture from people's homes and ripping up carpet. As well as distributing gumboots. I went from being totally inactive and recovering from surgery to constant manual labour for days and days. I can hardly type.

I have some pictures but I haven't wanted to put them up on my Facebook or here. They are of people's homes and I feel that would be an intrusion on their privacy. I was too busy working to take many. I was in the newspaper with a story and photo which felt a little strange. They incorrectly reported my age and my friends have been teasing me ever since.

I have been able to catch up with the spunky boy that sent me that fantastic email a few times. Yesterday the sun was out and even though I was extremely lethargic I headed to the beach for a swim. He called me from the beach and asked me to join him. He was with his daughter.

I wish I hadn't of done that. The more time that I spend with him the more that I like him. This for me is scary. When I get to this stage I normally flee running as far away as I can. Meeting his daughter kind of freaked me a little. We were at the beach so it wasn't one on one conversation and was extremely casual but I am left feeling reluctant and melancholy.

He has been married and has a child. I suspect that he just wants to enjoy being single but with female company. While this is appealing to me as is the fact that he works away a lot I just can't get my head around it all. He has enjoyed things that I will never enjoy and I think it is too soon after my loss to go down this path.

I hate that I like someone so much. It leaves me vulnerable. I hate feeling vulnerable. When you like someone you are put in a place where you almost rely on them to reciprocate those feelings to ensure that you are left feeling good. While he certainly does reciprocate those feelings I don't think that we are in the same place at the same time.

So I am going to do what I normally do. Flee. Retreat. I guard my heart with battle armour so strong that I just can't let it go. Which leaves me feeling deeply melancholy. Why am I like this? Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I allow myself to love and be loved?

It's because I am broken.

Last year was horrific and awful for me. It was absolute hell. It was full of pain both emotional and physical. I shudder when I remember it. I want to erase it permanently from my mind. I feel like I am a broken woman left barren and diseased. I am broken on the inside and I am scarred. I need to heal. I need to repair. I need to regroup and search deep within. I can't get a grip on where I am so how could anyone else?

My body is changing. The surgical menopause has made my body fill out with womanly curves and I haven't been exercising to combat this. My post op appointment hasn't been able to go ahead because my surgeon is in the CBD which has been flooded. Hopefully I can see him on Monday to get clearance for going back to the gym and the hormone implant inserted so I don't have to wear the disgusting patch.

I am emotional. I am not normally an emotional person so dealing with emotions and tears is a completely new experience for me. I feel as if I am left exposed to the world. As if I have somehow failed and don't have a chance to redeem myself. I cry. I am sad. I want to be alone. Sometimes I don't want to get out of bed. I have to force myself. At times I am finding that I want to cry and have to fight back the tears.

I say to myself that I am tearful for no reason but then I have to remind myself that I have reason to be tearful. Controlling my emotions is something that I am very good at. I am even better at hiding them.

This week I have sprung into action and am keeping myself occupied. It looks like I might have a new role to start in an area which I am passionate about - environmental law. I have a paper to write that is due next week. My youngest niece starts school next week. And I have ongoing volunteer work to do. So I am keeping busy. Which I do so very well.

The endo pain has flared up a few times but not as much as I have been suffering. The day that I drove to my first and only lecture for summer semester I was in such agony when I was driving to the university. I was scoffing opiates as I was driving so that I could keep going. I couldn't escape the pain. That has only happened to me twice since then.

So for now that girl with endo is doing what she does best. Hanging out at the beach and studying. And trying to get a grip.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

Gumboots!

2011-01-14T20:01:00.000+10:00

I have had a huge day and I have really seen some community spirit. After disappointing phone call after phone call chasing gumboots for donation I said a prayer and my next call was to Horses R Us in Nerang.

The owner of the store was incredible. She said that I could have a whole heap of stock. When I got there she had donated SO MANY pairs of gumboots. These were also designer gumboots which were brightly coloured and so gorgeous. What an amazing woman.

I spent the morning Facebooking and Tweeting about the 'Gumboots Crisis' that is about to hit the devastated areas. The morning news ran a story about what we were doing so the word was definitely out.

When I first arrived at the church drop off zone this morning I saw two pairs of little gumboots. I was so touched. These clearly belonged to someone and they were donating theirs for this cause. I added the gumboots to that pile.

I then went out again to pick up more donated pairs of gumboots. While I was out collecting gumboots my Mum and my Nieces were doing letter box drops of flyers we had created about the need for gumboots and other friends were hitting the shopping centres.

When I next returned to the church to do my drop off many other pairs had been donated. Together with gloves, buckets, brooms and hoses all for the clean up. Which meant that word had spread. I was thrilled.

By this evening I was exhausted and my endo pain is flaring up. I am going to have an early night as we are meeting early to organise which streets our teams should go to. It is all coming together. Every little bit counts.

(Gumboots donated by Horses R Us Nerang)

The Queensland Flood Crisis

2011-01-13T17:45:00.001+10:00

(Courtesy of Google Images)

In adversity we see the best and the worst of people. In Queensland right now we are seeing the best of people.

You might have read a few of my blogs and recalled that I have been complaining about the rain. It has rained every single day since the beginning of summer. You would also know that I live in Queensland which has been devastated by floods this week.

I was in Brisbane for summer semester lectures and was supposed to be there for the next two weeks. I got into the city early Tuesday morning and turned back. The city was being evacuated due to flash flooding and I quickly went to my good friend's place just outside the city but in relatively high ground.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

All that night we waited and watched the news. We moved everything upstairs as we prepared to wake up to water in the house the next morning. We were told not to drive anywhere and not to use the phone unless for an emergency. As soon as the rain stopped I drove back home yesterday.

Three quarters of my state is under water. That is the size of Germany and France together. It is completely devastated. My university is under water. I am not even sure if summer semester is going to continue. So many of my friends are taking in flood refugees if they have a home themselves. One of my friends has lost everything as he lived right on the river. Whole suburbs have been lost under water.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

I have had so many texts, emails and tweets from family and friends all over the world. I am so touched that so many people were so concerned about my safety. Even today people have asked me what they can do to help from afar.

I am now at home organising work groups for a convoy to head up to the areas worst hit on Saturday morning. Mum called the church to ask if we could use them as a centre distribution point. They were already in a meeting to discuss what they can do so it was good timing. Something has been put up on their website appealing for volunteers in our community.

We are organising donations of tarps, ropes, boots, gum boots - anything that can be used. I have called all of my male friends and we are fast getting groups together. By Saturday morning we should have a huge convoy ready to relieve the exhausted workers that are there right now.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

My teenage niece has volunteered to get her friends together and they will look after the children of the volunteers. We need to be strategic in our planning. We need to be organised with what we are going to do. Fortunately I am really bossy ;)

The law school sent around an email and all of our study has been 'relaxed'. I had an assignment due next week so I don't have to worry about getting that done while I am organising all of this. I did have my post op appointment tomorrow morning but as my surgeon is in the city and that area is under water and has been evacuated that appointment will have to wait. The answers I seek will have to wait just a little longer.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

I have spent today calling people that can help, calling local businesses, emailing and organising for Saturday. I am not physically fit to be moving stuff but even if I can only organise things I am still doing something. I lived in Brisbane for 6 years so this is close to my heart.

The sad thing is. This is only the beginning. The flooding has not stopped. If you look at a picture of the Brisbane River and the city of Brisbane you can see how the river meanders around the city. And it's not just Brisbane. It is the state of Queensland and Northern New South Wales.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

Our Premier Anna Bligh said of Queenslanders this morning:

"We're the people that they breed tough, north of the border. We're the ones that they knock down, and we get up again".

There has been much praise for our Premier in the last few days and I believe this is very deserving. I am the last person ever to commend Anna Bligh but each time she has addressed the state during this crisis I have been impressed. This morning her tearful address was emotional and so incredibly raw I was moved to tears myself. I doubt whether she has slept at all this last week.

There is a huge problem at the moment with volunteering. Everyone wants to help and do something. This is a problem because all efforts need to be organised properly. Turning up to evacuation centres and devastated areas to help is only going to be a hindrance and possibly even dangerous. I have just got off the phone with the youth pastor at our church and we are anticipating that we will have about 50 people for Saturday. Hopefully more.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

We are then working with the leading volunteer organisation to be sent where we are needed. Not randomly showing up hoping to be of assistance. When I spoke with the youth pastor I said that I think one of the major issues we are going to have is lack of volunteers later. The clean up effort is going to massive. It is going to take a long time. It isn't a matter of organising a team to go up for one day. It is going to be organising teams to go up many many times.

When the constant stream of news stops and people return to their daily lives they often forget about the loss and devastation. And this is always the most crucial time. As I look through the photographs on the news websites and watch the ever constant news channel I am really overwhelmed.

I have a friend over right now that is a journalist who has been up in Brisbane today working and volunteering. She doesn't have the internet available at her home and is madly writing her story for her deadline in 30 minutes. We have just heard from the youth pastor and he has organised for another church to be involved. My journalist friend knows first hand what is needed and what isn't needed. We are currently doing a mad dash searching for "gumboots" and are looking at contacting some New Zealand companies for donations.

My journalist friend and I are ending off early tomorrow morning and meeting a work crew and we are going to do whatever it is that we need to do. But for now that girl with endo is chasing gum boots!

Stitches Blowin' In the Wind

2011-01-05T17:58:00.002+10:00

I woke up from an epic 15 hour sleep late afternoon today. I had more dreams of the same person. I woke up from the epic long dreams with that feeling that is becoming too familiar. Haunted.

I had so many incredible messages from some amazing women from my last post. I was touched that people would take time out from their precious day not only to read my thoughts but to send me such powerful supportive messages.

I started to write this blog after a friend suggested that I do. It had helped her immensely. I started to write my endometriosis and infertility pain out. It has helped me. It has put me in touch with some incredible women. The isolation I wrote about has eased somewhat.

I wrote that post about being a freak because I was writing about the moments I experience when I am in excruciating pain. I read a lot of blogs where women experience chronic pain. But not very many people confront what that really means and how it makes them feel.

What that pain really means. What they think when they are in the depths of absolute despair from that pain. The scary thoughts that go through their mind. The out of control and vulnerability that you feel.

Being in excruciating debilitating pain is very scary. I don't care what other people say and how strong they claim to be. In those moments when you are enduring THAT much pain you are scared. Again people don't talk about those scary moments. For it is easy to try and forget when they are over.

Women with endometriosis don't want pity. They want praise. At least the women with endometriosis that I know. The women that live through and battle this disease every single day. That pray and hope to be liberated.

I went out on a date last week. Sometimes I don't bring up endometriosis straight away but this person was so upfront and honest about his life I felt I would've been lying should I had not revealed at least part of my journey.

I told him that I had endometriosis and he didn't know what it was. I hate it when that happens. I really do. It means not only do I have to explain myself but I have to explain endometriosis as well. I didn't want to go over it on our dinner date as I was really enjoying myself so I told him that I would email him some material.

The next morning I woke up and I had an email from him saying that he had looked it up. Here is part of that email:

"I did look up on the net about your medical condition to get an idea of what you have to deal with. Sounds very intense and your attitude to your life and what you have to deal with humbles me. I can tell you're not the sort of person who wants pity but I am in no doubt that you must experience a burden not many could endure. I guess if anything it challenges me as I am sure it does others who see your strength of how I take so much in this world for granted sometimes..... this shines through you in your attitude to life. You must be very proud of yourself"

This was the response that I had so longed. Praise not pity. He saw someone shining not full of disease. I liked him even more than I did the night before.

I finally got my wish to hit the surf. Again this highlights The Schizophrenias of Endo that I often talk about.

It was packed! I had been longing to go to the beach and catch some rays. This last month of recovery and non-stop rain had me feeling really blue. Something the sun and the ocean would definitely cure. I was really excited to go.

The two small incisions that I have are over the bikini line. But they aren't as big as the others and they are not too bad now that the steri-strips and bandaids are finally off.

I had an allergic reaction to the adhesive on the bandaids but other than that - this is how it looks. There is still some bruising and swelling around my belly button but you can hardly tell.

I have been calling them my tough stickers for years. These ones are only small but there are 4 other similar small tough stickers from previous surgeries but you can hardly see them anymore. Good work by my surgeon.

The sun and the sand worked. I felt awesome striding out into the waves. The salt water was great for my healing incision sites. It cleaned up the area and I was only left with stitches.

I went back to my towel and sat next to my Mum gossiping for a little while. There was a small breeze and I could feel two stitches blowing in the wind. I remarked on it to my mother.

Both in unison we started singing 'Blowin In the Wind' only changed the words to fit endo, surgery and these two stitches. It was hilarious.

So I had my day at the beach. My pale skin has got some sun and I am feeling much better for it. I now have to tackle an assignment before I am back on campus next week for another gruelling intensive summer semester. This subject is being presented in two weeks when it should be done in 13!

And as for the date last week and the email. We are doing something this Friday night so I have to finish my assignment! I am that girl with endo. But I am also that girl who can do law assignments and date cute guys as well.

I Am A Freak. I Am A Monster.

2011-01-04T00:41:00.000+10:00

I am a freak. I am monster.

Today I truly believe I am.

The sun has been shining and I wanted to take my little niece to the beach today. I am getting restless and I want to do things. I am a beach girl and I miss the surf.

My body is healing from the surgery and I want to reclaim it back. I want to return to doing yoga in the mornings. I want to swim. I want to go to the gym. I want to be able to do turkish get ups again.

The heat and the hot flashes were making me feel so sick. This is normally my favourite time of year and I am starting to hate it. I love the heat. It is not like me to whinge about the heat.

A migraine struck mid-morning. As I was putting on my swimmers to leave I vomited everywhere. I raced to where I keep all my medication and quickly took a Zomig.

This drug is a miracle drug for migraines but you have to take it in time. I was lucky and within 10 minutes the evil horrible thing started to lift but I find this drug makes me want to lie in bed unable to move for hours after taking it.

So there was no beach for me today. I was just laying around in the heat eating dry crackers and lemonade icy poles. I will try to hit the surf early morning tomorrow.

In the afternoon a severe endo flare struck me. That awful pelvic pain that is constantly there flared up. I took some panadeine forte. It did nothing. Absolutely nothing.

By late afternoon I was extremely uncomfortable. The dull awful pelvic pain had developed into deep burning pelvic pain. I started crying. I was crying because I was scared.

This deep burning pelvic pain was the exact same pain that I had after my hysterectomy and had every single day until my recent surgery. The exact same. The same pain that varies in it's intensity but is always there.

When I had this deep pelvic pain for those months prior to my recent surgery I would often remark to my mother that I was so sure that it was endometriosis forming. I felt like a freak I would say to her. I would say that I'm a monster.

She would put her arms around me and I would cry because I was so scared. Scared that while enduring this deep burning pelvic pain disease was forming inside me.

It turned out that I was right. From June to December I had endometriosis and endometrioma form. So that pain WAS in fact endometriosis. The surgeon said technically I shouldn't have had any active endometriosis after my hysterectomy.

But I had SO much. More than most women would get in years and I had it within months. Immediately after having my uterus removed.

By 7pm my pain was excruciating. I was kicking myself for not taking my morning and evening dosages of OxyContin. I am supposed to be taking 80mg every morning and night. But I am so worried about taking so much pain medication that sometimes I don't take it.

The mornings that I do feel like I can manage I don't take it. I assess it every morning. I know this isn't strictly following my pain management plan and I guess this is probably why I ended up this state.

I had to 'bust out the opiates'. I was in that much pain that I couldn't even wait for the immediate release capsule. I opened it up and put the powder directly into my mouth.

I held onto the kitchen bench and my whole body trembled from the pain. I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails were cutting into the palms of my hands. I started to sob uncontrollably. I wanted to scream and scream. I was screaming in my head. I started praying. Psalm 23 came to me and I kept repeating this over and over in my quivering breath.

I was shaking my head and saying "NO NO NO' over and over. I waited for the immediate release OxyNorm to kick in. 10 minutes later I realised that 20mg wasn't enough and I took the same dose again.

Still standing there shaking and sobbing. I know that you shouldn't take two dosages within 4 hours but I couldn't stand the pain. My doctor has told me that I can take double the dose for moments like those and I have done it before many times. I felt like I was going crazy. I wanted to rip my hair out. I felt like I was losing it.

I counted the minutes. I watched the clock on the microwave. I could feel that my pulse was very rapid. I was holding my breath forgetting about the breathing exercises for moments like this. If this dose wasn't going to work I was going to have to take even more. Or worse call my doctor to my house. Which I can do. And have had to before.

16 minutes later I was relieved of the excruciating pain. 16 minutes. 16 minutes of pure hell. There are no other words to describe this awful place.

Sometimes when I am in such excruciating pain I wonder to myself am I growing and forming endometriosis right now? It might sound really stupid but these are the thoughts that flash through my mind.

I feel like a freak. A monster. A freakish monster that is growing disease inside of me at a rapid rate.

As I sit on my bed now calmed by the pain relief and valium I wonder about estrogen. If they are sure of one thing about endometriosis it is that it's dependent on estrogen for growth and survival. I started wearing a Climara patch about 9 days after my surgery because the hot flashes and night sweats were unbearable particularly the night sweats.

I have noticed that the pain is worse when the patch is new. I change it weekly on a Saturday. I have been keeping an extensive and extremely detailed pain diary for nearly a year now. I document every single thing. When I see the pain management specialist on 1 February I am going to be able to go to that appointment very prepared.

I have been researching this week. I want to know everything there is about endometriosis that I don't already know. I don't know very much about surgical menopause either so I am trying to understand this. Understand what this means to me. My predicament.

My post op appointment is next Friday. I am scared about this appointment. It will be the first time that my surgeon and I have a proper discussion about my surgery other than the quick one while I was in bed on morphine in the hospital.

Ultimately what I want to know is this. Why am I still in pain? Is this pain endometriosis aggressively forming as it has done so since I was 14? If I take the patch off and have no estrogen will this give me a chance to live a life free from such excruciating pain?

If I don't have the patch on then I will certainly suffer through the menopausal symptoms. I can endure this if I know it won't be for too long. If I know there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

If I deprive my body of estrogen what will happen to me? Is this a wise decision to make? I know about the risks of osteoporosis and am taking supplements to combat this. Unfortunately I am lactose intolerant so need to take calcium supplements anyway.

Can I fight this latest battle of mine with herbal treatments? This is what I am trying to research and understand this week. If endo wants estrogen then I don't want to provide it.

I know I am a freak. I know that my body is freaky. It grows disease. This disease grows very quickly. That same disease has taken over my body and destroyed my insides. There is nothing left to attack. Only my other organs. Are they now compromised? Because my other organs have been taken will they now be attacked by this vicious aggressive disease?

I hate this disease. I hate it so much. I hate that every morning if I haven't woken up in pain then I dread that the pain is coming. I hate that I am so dependent on narcotic medication just to keep my sanity. I hate that I am now truly scared. More scared than I've ever been.

That's a lot of hate for one tiny woman. One tiny freak. One tiny monster.

Kicking Out 2010

2010-12-31T13:58:00.004+10:00

I was watching Sex and the City 2 late last night as a cure for my insomnia - I know I am late to the party but I am sorry that I did. It suddenly thrust me into a dark and awful place. A place I have visited a few times in the last year and a place I no doubt will visit again.

I nearly turned it off because the botoxed face and whiny voice of SJP was just too much post BSO surgery. It was really annoying me. It was making me reach for the valium so that I could sleep.

More to the point in my fragile state I realised I was watching a 'child free couple'. And what's worse is I hated them! I got to thinking that I don't like any of the child free couples I've seen on movies and television!

Why do they portray them like that? I know it's Hollywood and exaggerated but I was suddenly feeling really incredibly sad and full of despair. I hate feeling like that. It is not me. I don't feel like this.

These moments keep creeping up on me.... and BAM... before I know it I am a crying, blubbering, emotional wreck. It's not fair. I have endured a life of pain only to end up in this place? Before the pain was physical. Now I am in physical pain AND emotional pain.

I feel like stamping my feet and screaming out - IT'S NOT FAIR! I can't take it any more. I am really not that strong. I am just pretending. I have been pretending to be strong all this time!

I mean absolutely no offence to child free couples. I am just a hormonal infertile thrust into a world where I am walking around in the dark with no hand to hold. There is nothing wrong with any of the child free couples that I've met. And they've not been anything like the Hollywood version.

All of the missing hormones and post surgery blues started a release of tears. Is this my future? Am I going to be one of those awful boring child free couples? Is that my destiny?

Am I always going to be in pain? Will I ever have children? Why do I have to miss out on so much because of endo? I fear my future is full of pain and no children. A future full of prescription drugs, missed social events, lost career opportunities and not a lot else.

Once again I am kicking endo for ridding me of the chance to decide... at least SJP was making a conscious decision to be child free... I don't have a choice!

I am once again so deeply saddened. Deeply saddened because I had to have that surgery (both of them). I cry and shudder even remembering that awful pain the years before.

I had to have that surgery to save my life. I cry and shudder with pain now. I honestly don't know what it's like to live a life that is free from pain. Incredible I know. But I don't. I wonder if I ever will.

Am I now forcibly pushed into a category of people I don't necessarily want to be. I hadn't made my mind up. I never got to choose. I am here and I don't want to be here!

Why am I raving about being a child free couple when I'm not even a couple! I'm a SINGLETON! I've always been a singleton! Why worry about something that I'm not even close to being?

Again I blame the lack of hormones. The loss of my ovaries and uterus and cervix all in the space of less than six months. That should make any woman an irrational emotional crying mess.

So in the darkness I sat... pondering this awful awful place... all cried out... and semi-rationality returned.

Is it because I am such an advocate for free choice that I am so distressed that I have no choice? Or is it that I want what I can't have?

Maybe it's just that this is all new to me and I am still trying to grasp what this means to me now and what it means for my future.

I am supposed to be getting better with this. But some days... I take ten steps forward... only to take four steps backwards the next.

Some days I am full of hope and then I am overcome with such incredible sadness and despair that I go into a dark and horrible place that is becoming all too familiar.

I just want to know when the pain will go? The emotional pain. The pain where I can't take any pill to make me feel better. The pain where I can't slip on patch to ease the symptoms.

The pain that is always there even if it is just simmering below the surface.

But I do have a choice. I have to remind myself that I do have a choice.

I wanted to adopt children when I was a teenager. I hadn't really decided to have children but I had already declared that I wanted to adopt children from all over the world. This was well before I had my surgery this year. Years in fact.

It was as if I had foresight and had made up my mind. Each time I have travelled my parents have expected me to come home with a baby boy from Cambodia or a little girl from China.

In my grief and despair I have forgotten this. I have been so focused on the fact that I can't have children that I have forgotten that I still can.

I know this will happen. I know I will do this. This is the hope that I cling on to in these desperate moments. I just have to remind myself. It is hard to remind yourself when you are in the depths of darkness. Alone.

I know that when I finish law school I will embark on that journey. Whether it is by myself or with someone.

But for now I am shaking off the pain and despair and replacing them with a beach dress and pair of funky wedges. It is NYE here and I am heading to the beach with my family and closest friends.

I have my oldest dearest friend visiting from the other side of the country. We grew up living next door to each other for the first 16 years of our lives. We have been friends for 33 years. It feels like her visit came at just the right time for me.

The rain has stopped and the scorching heat has returned. It is a perfect day outside. We are going to sit around the beach with a fabulous cheese platter and Thai food. My nieces and her children are going to play in the surf and sand and we are going to sit around laughing about old times and enjoying each other's company.

I couldn't ask for anything more. I am kicking out 2010. As the Queen once famously said this past year has been an 'annus horribilis'. I look forward to closing this year and bringing in a new one with my loved ones.

Where ever you may be. Have a wonderful NYE and I hope that you too are kicking out 2010 and bringing in a fantastic fabulous new year as well.

(Courtesy of Google Images)

Do I feel empty? Endo Rant Part II

2010-12-26T19:59:00.006+10:00

(Courtesy of Google Images)

I am absolutely fed up with the insensitive and stupid things people say to me.

I don't think I can stand back and be silent one more time.

I have been doing it for too long.

So that other people don't have to feel bad.

This week I had to catch up with some friends and I bravely got dressed and made up for dinner.

Now I get that some people are inquisitive. I get that there are some strange questions that people are going to ask you. In fact sometimes I welcome these inquisitive and strange questions after all I feel that it is my responsibility to advocate for this disease.

What I don't get is how stupid and ignorant some people are.

I had someone ask me at dinner - and this was the same woman who asked me after my hysterectomy if I was going to get my period again and would I be able to get pregnant - do I feel empty?

Do I feel empty?

I asked her what she meant? Physically, emotionally, spiritually?

Her answer - well you have nothing left inside you, surely you must feel empty like a big black hole?

Then she asked me if all of my other organs were going to fall into the big black hole I now have. She meant physically!

Do you honestly believe that a woman is that stupid and that ignorant? Believe me because I am telling you.

I swallowed and shrugged off this stupid question and I regret it now.

I shrugged it off because I wanted to cry and scream and throw the chairs at her and everyone in the restaurant. I felt like there was an angry beast inside of me about to be unleashed.

I felt dangerous. I felt out of control. I felt like I was going to lose it.

I should have put this person in their place. I should have done it when she foolishly asked me if I would get a period after my hysterectomy.

I was given another opportunity to enlighten her on the female body and I didn't do anything about it.

Why?

I am tired of fighting. I am tired of fighting other women and their stupid insensitive comments.

I am tired of other women with endo making stupid insensitive comments.

I am tired of them telling other women to have a hysterectomy to solve their endo problems especially when they haven't had one themselves.

I am tired of women with endo telling me that I shouldn't be in pain since I have had a hysterectomy.

I am tired of wanting these women to stop being so ignorant and do some research. Even a simple google search will do.

I am tired of having to justify my pain not only to ignorant non-endo women but to endo women as well.

A hysterectomy does NOT cure endometriosis. It does NOT relieve you of endometriosis pain. Nothing does.

All a hysterectomy will do is relieve you of having your period. That is all. This could be life saving surgery as it was in my case. But it should be a last resort. Last last resort.

For a woman with endo to suggest this to another woman with endo indicates to me that they don't know anything about this disease. At all.

It indicates to me that they are ignorant to the fundamental identifying features of this disease - that there is no cure.

I don't think that women understand the gravity of this predicament.

This is not an operation that should be off handedly referred to as a solution. Especially women who clearly know nothing about this silent and mysterious disease.

This should not have to be explained to another woman - endo or no endo.

Do you know what I am tired of most? I am tired of infertile women trying to conceive telling me they understand.

They don't. How could they. They are trying. They have tried.

I can NEVER try.

We don't share the same infertility status. We won't ever. There is no common ground.

Because the difference is - they can try and I will never be able to try. I can't even entertain trying. Ever.

I know that they mean well and are trying their best to offer words of comfort. But their trying and my never being able to try is not understanding.

I am tired of people telling me I can and should adopt.

Have they not considered that I am an intelligent independent woman and would have considered this option already? Again this is insulting.

So from now on I am not going to be silent.

When someone makes a stupid insensitive comment I am going to enlighten them.

I am sick of them hurting me with their stupidity and ignorance so I am going to empower them with knowledge. So that they don't do it again - ever.

When I said I am tired of fighting. I only meant today. For these words I have typed are fighting words.

I am tired today because I am weak. I am weak from surgery. I am weak from crying. I am weak from not sleeping properly. I am weak from being thrust into surgical menopause.

I am weak from feeling so melancholy.

It feels like every time someone makes a stupid insensitive comment part of me crumbles away. But no more.

After all I am That Girl With Endo and I am going to empower myself by empowering other women.

ENDO Rant

2010-12-26T17:35:00.005+10:00

This is an 'endo rant'. I have taken this expression from a good friend of mine that used this term this morning. I know she will be pleased that I have used her expression and put it to some good use. This a rant about health care and endometriosis. I might have a few 'endo rants' today for I have so many endo things on my blonde mind.

I have been ranting and raving in my head all week about endo related issues and I am going to put my Boxing Day to good use by writing. Here in Australia we have a public holiday the day after Christmas Day called Boxing Day.

This day is known now for the sales similar to that of Black Friday in the USA. But mostly it is a day where friends and families head to the beach, play cricket and eat more food. It is still raining here so going to the beach is out. Add to that I don't want to scare the general public with my bruised and swollen abdomen in a bikini!

Last night I had an endo flare and pain returned (or maybe still recovery from surgery pain) so today I am just resting and relaxing and now writing. The opiates were 'busted out' yet again. I think I have been whinging about the rain for weeks now. It rained and poured all yesterday and all of last night. It is still raining now. I can hear the creek that runs at the back of my property running very fast.

I am going to make a disclaimer before my rant. I can't help myself. I am a law student!

I don't want to seem like I am criticising the government of the USA because I'm not. I am merely drawing a comparison between the health care and treatment that we have in my country to that of the care and treatment in the USA.

The knowledge that I do have of both is from my own experiences and from the experiences that I read of my fellow 'Endo Sisters' that live in the USA. If I am wrong with anything that I say here please let me know. I am always open for healthy discussion and constructive criticism. I would also be interested in knowing what your thoughts and experiences are - especially those from different countries. And what you think of mine.

Day in and day out I read of women with endo in the USA and their plight with regard to the financial aspect of their treatment plans and surgery. Every single day I read with horror of the stress these women have with 'insurance companies'. Their financial stress. Things like they can only see certain doctors that will take their insurance, can only be 'allowed' certain drugs that have to be approved by insurance companies and surgery costs that are absolutely phenomenal.

Since when does an insurance company have the knowledge to approve a drug treatment? I am sorry but this just baffles me. Isn't this something that only a medical professional can approve? If a medical professional has prescribed something for your condition you take it. I wonder what the medical professionals think of this? That their treatment plans have to be approved by insurance companies? Does it encroach upon their professional duties and responsibilities? Not to mention ethical and moral considerations.

I can't comprehend it. I can't because I don't have that problem. I never have. Here in Australia if you choose to have private insurance it is something that you pay yourself. It doesn't have anything to do with employment. You don't have to have private insurance but it is better if you do as it gives you options and the opportunity to have your medical treatments rebated to you. First and foremost we have our Medicare system which provides us with rebates from all doctor and surgeon appointment costs normally at a rate of 100% or 85%. It also provides for your treatment in a public hospital.

To give you an example of the cost of my private health insurance - I pay top level insurance that covers me for absolutely everything (optical, massages, gym membership, any kind of surgery, naturopathy, osteopathy, all dental... the list goes on and on). This costs me $1,430 per year. This amount is after I have received a rebate from my income tax return. If you have a pre-existing medical condition you don't have any problems but you might have a waiting period of up to 12 months in which you can't claim for anything related to that medical condition. Again this can be waived when you are negotiating with the insurance company. I have never had any problems.

Every single time I have had surgery my surgeon and the anesthetist have sent their bills directly to my insurance company. I don't and have never actually seen an invoice. Ever. I wouldn't even know how much the operations and the associated costs are. They are what is called a 'no gap provider'. This means that they don't charge anything over what the insurance company will provide for and that there will be no gap between what Medicare will rebate and what the insurance company will pay for. A lot of doctors and surgeons do this. Ultimately this means no out of pocket expenses. None whatsoever.

With regard to my hospital visits I pay an excess of $250 per year if I need to go into hospital and this means that I stay in a luxurious private hospital and however long my stay is I don't have to pay anything - whether I stay for one night or one week or one month. Nothing. And I only have to pay that fee once in a calendar year. So for example this year I had two surgeries and I only had to pay my excess fee once. This hospital excess also includes any drugs that are prescribed to you to take after your surgery. The hospital gives them to you to take home with you at discharge.

I choose to have private health insurance for many reasons. It means that I can stay in a luxurious private hospital when I recover from traumatic surgery. I don't have to share a room. It means that I have the surgeon of my choice. I also wear glasses and contact lenses so I am fully covered for that and also dental care which is extremely important. Also very important is the other treatments I need that are related to my endo. Massages, naturopath, osteopath, gym membership - any other treatment is covered and I can claim up to 50% of the cost of the treatment. Straight away the $1,430 I pay on my insurance I make back in the first few months of the year with my claims.

Of course there are different levels of cover. Mine is the most expensive. You can choose to only have hospital and dental. It is what you choose and make your plan up to consist of.

The alternative should I not choose to have private insurance would mean that I am what is called a public patient. This means that you need to find a surgeon who only does public hospital treatment. This isn't difficult and certainly does not mean that you get a dodgy doctor for some of the best surgeons choose to only work in the public system. They do it purely for altruistic reasons.

It also means that you might be put on a waiting list that can sometimes be quite long. Having said that the waiting list is categorised due to necessity. Someone with endometriosis as severe and debilitating as mine would not have to wait for surgery. I would have my surgery straight away when I needed it. The exact same level of care and treatment. I have been a public patient twice when I was younger and there is absolutely no difference in the care and treatment - I just didn't stay in a luxurious private hospital with my own suite. That was the only difference. I still had my own room I just didn't have a suite and I didn't have the gourmet food that the private hospitals have. Again you would not see an invoice for any surgery being a public patient.

I have read with horror of women needing what I would call 'necessary' surgery and having to pay outrageous costs of $30K, $25K and $10K. How can this be? How can someone with a medical condition be refused care and treatment? How can someone with a debilitating and painful disease be asked to spend up to $30K for an operation?

Where and how do they get the money for this? More importantly - why do they have to pay for this? What is happening in that country that makes situations like these so common? What is their government policy on health care? Why isn't it provided for as it is in so many other countries?

As a law student and human rights activist I find this outrageous! As you know I have focused my law degree on international law so this is particularly interesting to me. I want to draw your attention to some interesting international documents that talk about human rights.

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) says at Article 3 that 'everyone has the right to life, liberty, and security of person'. Article 25 (1) says that 'everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control'.

Right there that is telling me that we as human beings have a fundamental right to medical treatment especially if we have a 'sickness' or 'disability'. This is saying that we have an inclusive right to 'timely and appropriate' health care and that these rights include 'freedoms and entitlements'. Freedom to have control over our health care and an entitlement to obtain the highest quality of health care.

The legal obligations for states (countries) are set out in the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR). Article 12 (1) says that all states that are party to this covenant are to 'recognize the right of everyone to the enjoyment of the highest attainable standard of physical and mental health'…. Going on to say at Article 2 (d) that 'the creation of conditions which would assure to all medical service and medical attention in the event of sickness'.

This is only a brief examination of human rights and medical treatment and by no means should be considered an exhaustive study or opinion but merely highlight that we have a fundamental right to medical treatment. Medical treatment that women just aren't getting. I normally don't like to use the Wikipedia but it was a good starting point and when I went to look up the status of the health care in the USA and I was appalled at the confronting statistics.

Isn't this country the leader of the free world? A country that boasts of it's citizens enjoying human rights? What I found was a country that denies it's citizens access to basic health care and treatment. The most affected - the poor, the elderly and those with medical conditions. The marginalised. The ones that need it the most.

We talk all the time about having 'human rights' but what does this mean? On a basic level it means that there are international instruments such as the ones I described above that prescribe how we should be treated and what laws a state (country) should incorporate domestically to protect us. International law isn't enforceable. I have studied both public and private international law and could go on into great detail but this isn't an assignment or a journal article. It is just me making some observations and highlighting my areas of concern.

I was shocked this week when I read of a woman with an extremely bad case of endometriosis who was surprised to discover that she had the surgical option to have her endometriosis resected in order for her to get relief. This has been the leading treatment for endometriosis in this country for years! This is not new. This is old news. I had this surgery first performed years ago. Why is a country such as the USA not advocating such treatment for endometriosis? More to the point why aren't women with endometriosis having this surgery? Again I was just blown away.

Sadly my surgeon told me last week that my earlier surgeries in the 1990s where the method then was to laser and burn away the endometriosis just might have been the cause of my extremely horrific state of endometriosis now. I can't be angry at that because they didn't know what they know now.

They know now. It took years and years of research and experimentation on women like me to discover this. Why are women not having this treatment? Why aren't their doctors performing this surgery? More importantly why aren't women told of this treatment? Why are doctors still lasering and burning away endometriosis when they know it is the wrong thing to do? That it will in fact make them worse.

I asked my surgeon this and his reply was that to surgically perform the resection of the endometriosis takes great skill and a lot of time in surgery. It is easier for a surgeon to just laser and burn away the endometriosis. It doesn't take a lot of skill and it can be done in about 20 minutes. If they now know that this doesn't work and in fact makes it worse then why isn't it prohibited? Why are surgeons allowed to still do this to women?

For a woman such as myself the surgeon can stand there for hours and hours skilfully and carefully resecting the endometriosis. For me they could be there for days. I thank G-d that my surgeon is not one of those arrogant surgeons. He knew he would have to do this in my surgery and that was one of the reasons he asked the retired surgeon to help him. During my surgery I had both of the top endometriosis surgeons carefully resecting the endometriosis away. There was too much to do it all. They had to leave some. I think I have painfully mentioned it just wouldn't be possible to get it all. You should see the photographs. The results are amazing. At my post-op appointment I am going to see if I can get a colour copy of these photographs for this blog so that I can demonstrate what they have done.

I was shocked to learn this week that yet another woman needs this surgery and not only will she have to pay such a large sum of money to have this surgery performed but I was shocked that her current surgeon hadn't made her aware of this surgery or more to the point performed years ago when she was trying to conceive knowing that she wanted to conceive.

If I have been having it done since around 2007 then why haven't everyone else with endometriosis? Why do women have to become literate in medical knowledge and do their own research in order to receive treatment? Why do they as patients have to seek out the treatments available to them and ask their doctors to perform them? Again I am baffled with the health system of another country.

How can a woman who desperately needs relief and would get it from such a surgery not have this option because of financial reasons and the bungling of insurance companies and the bureaucratic incompetence of a government that promotes itself as a democracy?

It makes me angry. It angers me that another woman endures such pain and agony unnecessarily. It angers me that this one woman is only a representation of thousands of other women.

When you have an illness the amount of stress that you endure is incredible. On so many levels. I have never had to endure financial stress on top of this. I simply cannot imagine it. My heart goes out to these women that struggle daily with the financial stress of their care and treatment. If you are one of these women I am praying for you.

An Australian Christmas Eve

2010-12-24T22:38:00.001+10:00

Normally this time of year I am away... traipsing off enjoying time away from the hectic pace of Christmas celebrations. This time last year my Dad and I were partying in Chiang Mai preparing for our trek up to Laos.

I really miss my Dad this year. My childhood memories of Christmas Eve with my Mum and Dad are really special. I count myself to be really fortunate and blessed that I had such a wonderful childhood. My parents are wonderful people. I had hoped to be travelling again with Dad this year but my surgery prevented that.

Damn endo.

Having said that. I am glad to be home. Glad that I am enjoying the holidays with my family. I am especially glad because Christmas Day is actually my niece's birthday. Tomorrow she turns 5. She was a very excited little girl when we put her to bed just now.

I have been resting and I have been feeling better. I haven't needed morphine all week. In fact I've hardly needed any hardcore painkillers. Last night I needed a few strong ones and again this afternoon. I could get used to this.

It has actually been a strange thing the last day or so to not be in excruciating pain. In the last SO many years I have adapted to living a life in constant pain. It is too early to tell but I am getting a glimpse of what it can be like and I want to reach out, grab it and take it for my own. I have the look of hope on my face. Desperate hope.

I know deep down the reality but hope is what keeps us alive.

The steri-strips fell off the incision site of my belly button. I was dreading seeing the damage. I sighed with relief when I saw it wasn't ghastly. I like my belly button. All the scars from all of my surgeries haven't made it look awful and I don't know why I thought this one might be different. I am glad it wasn't.

My mother put new steri-strips on the other ones as they had started to bleed a little. The stitches looked awful and I gasped in horror when she took them off. I hadn't expected them to be so big! My awesome flat tummy now has little scars in strategic places. I am going to call them my 'tough stickers'. They are above my binki line but they don't look unsightly. In fact I am hoping that with some beach action in January they will fade and heal up quite nicely.

The one along the pubic bone is a different story though. It's a shame they couldn't have used the same one from last time and the time before and the time before etc. But I understand that this can be a risk for more endo. I have a lot to talk abut endo this week but will save that for after Christmas.

I am sad for one thing. The weather. I live in Australia. This time of year is normally hot hot hot. I love the heat. I am truly an Australian girl. Since the first day of summer (1 December) it has rained and poured every single day with the exception of two days last week.

It has been raining and pouring all day today and the weather forecast predicts rain for another 7 days. To an Australian at Christmas time this is incredibly depressing. We are supposed to be enjoying a heat wave and seeking relief at the beach and in the pool. We don't know what to do with all this rain. Forced inside for weeks we are all suffering a bit of 'cabin fever'.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of my readers. Thank you for all the loving and supportive messages you have sent me over the last few months especially this last week. I can't tell you how much it means to know that I have so many people thinking and praying for me. I started this blog to work through my feelings and emotions about endo after my hysterectomy and I have found a whole community out there in which I belong to. Finally this girl with endo fits in somewhere.

Thank you.

I will leave you with a Christmas carol that is a little different. Most of the carols are strange here in Australia because they talk of snow and winter and other things we know nothing of. As we are in the middle of summer we can't relate. There have been many adaptations and I don't care for them much. This one I like.

May everyone enjoy the holidays with their loved ones.

Pain Is Temporary - Quitting Lasts Forever

2010-12-21T00:20:00.003+10:00

The heading of this blog post is a quote by Lance Armstrong. I have been reading his words lately and I am finding them extremely inspirational - especially the ones about pain and surviving through pain.

Although I have to admit at the moment I don't feel like my pain is temporary and it hasn't been. I know it means not to give up. Ever.

It also means that I am doing things that really aren't possible. I desperately wanted to go to the Christmas Carols night at my church with my Nieces.

So I did what had to be done. I loaded up on morphine, put on my new Christmas dress, applied makeup to my tragic looking face and dark circles under my eyes and washed my hair finally decorating it with a beautiful red bow. I really was a walking advocate for the "But You Don't Look Sick" theory.

It was a beautiful night. It was raining outside but fortunately the event was held indoors. There was a Big Band and an Orchestra. I just love Christmas Carols. Ever since I was a child I have just loved going to Carols by Candlelight. We go every year as a family. It is a special tradition that I want to keep no matter what.

I wasn't going to miss this night for anything - endo included. I also really needed some special time with my nieces because all they've seen of me in the last few weeks is me - in pain and in bed. I just don't want their memories of me to be that. I fear being not only that girl with endo but also the sick Auntie. It ended up being a truly special night.

Every step I took was excruciating. It still hurts to walk. But no one would have known. I couldn't stand up to sing the carols and had to sit in my chair. Yet again I had to suffer the shame of being sick in public and have people wondering what is wrong with me.

I even saw a few frowns and a few tsk tsk looks from people. I just held my head high singing the carols next to my precious Nieces. My Mum sat next to me in allegiance so that I didn't have to sit alone and I was truly touched by that. The girls had a wonderful time and that was what was important.

Then again today I managed to do something I didn't think I could.

Do you remember me mentioning my group assignment that was due before Christmas? It was due today at 9.45 pm. Do you also remember me mentioning that I had worked so hard on it because I knew I would be too unwell to be working on it last minute? I wanted it done before I went into hospital. My study partners knew about my situation.

One of the members of the group was designated to be the one to upload the assignment. Normally this person is me but this time I just didn't want to be relied on as I just knew this week I was going to be in pain and didn't think I should be given that responsibility.

Gone are the days of having to physically hand in your assignment. Everything is done online. I hadn't heard from them with our final version for approval and when it was nearly lunchtime my anxiety was too great and I emailed everyone and asked them what was going on with our assignment.

The uploader replied that she had just submitted our assignment. I was shocked. Shocked that a fellow law student would upload an assignment without the approval and consent of the other group members - especially when we are doing the subject of Principles of Equity!

When I received the version she uploaded I shrieked in horror. There were spelling mistakes everywhere, grammatical errors and the substantial legal content that I had worked so hard on (night after night of reading long cases and judgments) with the other two hard working students had been deleted and replaced with rubbish.

I couldn't believe it. It was like a nightmare unfolding before my eyes. I will admit that I am an over-achiever and work really hard to get high marks. I could see my high distinction flying out the window with this document. I just wasn't going to let that happen.

In a frantic panic I telephoned the lecturer and blurted out my story and asked if there was any way we could submit our proper version when finalised. I only managed to say this to their voicemail. I then got a hold of the other students. They too were horrified. We were seriously unhappy. One of them didn't even get the email that it had been uploaded or a copy of the document.

I emailed the lecturer and so did the others. I even called the lecturer again at 5 pm. She must think she has a new crazy stalker.

The truth was while all of this was happening I was still in bed. I hadn't got out of bed because I was in agony. I wasn't planning on it either. The pain was burning me from the inside. I had run out of morphine and my Mum wasn't at home to administer it anyway.

I reached for the OxyNorm - the highest strength I have. I hate taking this stuff when I have to study. I find that my thinking is not clear, word recall is difficult and I am very sensitive to noise. This isn't a great situation for a law student with to be in.

I should have been in bed. I should have been resting. Instead I had to get out of bed and into my study and work. And I worked and worked all day until 15 minutes ago. I spent 12 hours fixing this dreadful mess. I had meticulously kept all of the drafts and notes along the way. I am a word wiz and keep everything in tracked changes and comments. I am obsessive with my documents and drafts. I had to read through all of the drafts, notes and comments compare them to this person's dreadful document and it was difficult.

My head was spinning from the OxyNorm. I wanted to nod off completely. And I still felt pain. At one point I found that I was in so much pain that I had been clenching my fist and my nails were cutting into the palms of my hands.

Even more difficult the pain was so bad I had to take more OxyNorm. I found myself in a very terrible place. Then something awful happened. I was sitting in my chair and all of a sudden my face got incredibly hot. I got incredibly hot. I screamed out to my Niece to bring me a cold washer. I thought I was going to pass out. I think I almost did. And just as soon as it came it was gone. I think this was a hot flush. I am not sure.

I wanted to give up and go to bed. But that would mean that I was quitting. And I just can't quit. Ever.

It is these moments I believe in G-d and answer to prayer. I prayed to G-d to let me just get through this day and finish this assignment.

I got through the 12 hours it took to get the job done to a level of near perfection. I managed to work through the pain and through the assignment. I am now exhausted and have collapsed into bed. I am still not sure how I did it. Maybe I might wake up tomorrow and it was a horrible dream.

I think what Lance Armstrong means when he talks about quitting is to keep on trying. Pushing on. Because somehow somewhere you have the strength to keep going. If you need it you will find it. To get the job done however small or big it is.

To overcome pain to do something whether it be attending carols to make a child smile or to write and type for 12 hours straight when you really should be resting in bed is to achieve something. Something significant.

When you suffer from an illness every single day is pushing your limits. Every single day you have to try that much harder. The effort you put into even the simple things like folding laundry or having a shower comes from a place that cannot be described.

This is why I love the Spoon Theory so much. Because I am that girl with endo. I am also a spoonie. And some days I just don't have enough spoons. Today my spoons came from a miraculous place.

Night Sweats

2010-12-17T14:15:00.003+10:00

(Courtesy of Google Images)

I am feeling much better today - pain wise. The last few days of morphine shots and complete rest have really helped me get to where I am today.

But something else has made me extremely uncomfortable - night sweats. My sudden and permanent drop in ovarian hormones, oestrogen, progesterone and testosterone have rendered me a wet mess during the night. It is truly awful.

I have been waking up absolutely saturated and in my pain have been unable to change my sheets so have had to resort to sleeping on the other side of the bed. The next night I couldn't go through the same thing again so I have been using towels ever since fearing that I would ruin my bed.

I really don't think I can endure this every single night. I really can't. It is uncomfortable, inconvenient and a little traumatising. I pray to G-d that I can.

Having night sweats in the middle of an Australian summer isn't exactly ideal. I spoke to Dr G who is going on holidays and he has said that Dr Dreamy can prescribe me something for this and I will see Dr Dreamy tomorrow as he said it shouldn't wait. I don't really want to take hormones but clearly I have to. I am sure Dr Dreamy will know the best thing to do.

I also have to worry about osteoporosis and heart disease but once I recover and get back into my exercise and gym routine I plan on increasing my weight lifting program to combat these. This fit girl will be back in shape in no time.

I have felt extremely heart broken with this surgery as in way it has made my infertile status extremely permanent. When I had my hysterectomy it was definite that I would never carry a child but I still had my ovaries so my options weren't completely gone. Now they are and I am sad. It makes it real and definite. There is no turning back now. There is nothing female left in side of me. Nothing. It breaks my heart.

People can tell you a thousand times that you don't need these to make you female. I get that. But until they've had them taken from them they will not understand. Ever. And it kind of annoys me that they aren't listening to what I am saying.

I have been fortunate to have such a loving and supportive family during this time. My teenage niece has been more than happy to wash sheets every day, bring me whatever I need and generally be a good sport about the fact that I am bedridden and helpless. I really had anticipated some teenage dramas but she has been great. Mum has been wonderful as well. I can see that she is really tired from waking in the middle of the night to administer my morphine shots and check up on me and generally worrying about her daughter that is in such emotional and physical pain.

Today I feel better. I am not screaming in pain. I am more comfortable. I have caught up on the Glee episodes that I have missed. Glee never fails to make me feel good. I have my oldest dearest friend visiting from far away from now until after the new year so I am anxious to feeling better so that I can spend time with her. She has assured me that sitting with me drinking cups of tea is good enough but I would love to head to the beach with her and her children.

So I am now that girl with endo now going through surgical menopause and indefinite infertility. It sucks. I can't bear to research on the internet. It makes me too upset. But I have to get through it. One of my favourite bloggers reminded me of one of the best quotes I have ever heard of and I will leave you with that. I am going to read this quote every day so that I don't forget it.

"Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and everything else will take its place. If I quite, however, it lasts forever." Lance Armstrong.

Morphine Dreams

2010-12-15T11:21:00.004+10:00

(Courtesy of Google Images)

I am in a place of absolute heart break. I am incredibly emotional today and I am not sure whether it’s the hormones (or sudden lack of them) or just the heart breaking surgery I have just had to endure. Probably both. I was fortunate enough to have two of my favourite bloggers email me this week full of encouragement and support.

I was tearful on the weekend because some friends hadn’t called me. I guess I am feeling vulnerable. My friends aren’t used to a vulnerable needy friend. They don’t know how to behave. When I heard from my friends that I hadn’t heard from they said they were giving me a few days. Because normally that is what I would want.

Trying not to sound unreasonable – I don’t want that. I need my friends now. I feel as if I have become a needy emotional person and I don’t like it. It’s not me. I hope it’s only temporary. I hope it is only because I am going through something traumatic and feel lonely and vulnerable and scared.

I will say that since my surgery in June I have been plagued with dreams. Dreams of one person. Dreams of someone from my past that I no longer speak to. Dreams that keep repeating. Dreams that leave me feeling heartbroken when I wake up. Dreams that make me feel alone. Dreams that fill me with regret. Dreams that make me remember.

I have never ever felt alone or lonely until recently. One thing these dreams made me realise this morning was that I have chosen to be like this. Years ago I loved someone and for one reason or another that never came to be. I spent weeks listening to Celine Dion (yes it was that bad) songs, crying, sobbing, not eating and generally scaring my friends and family. Trying to get over the betrayal, abandonment and loss. I had several interventions several times.

When that was over I swore with a furious passion that I would never ever feel like that ever again. And I haven’t. Because I haven’t let anyone that close to me. You might call it commitment issues – I call it scared. As soon as anyone gets close I push them away because I remember that pain. And I never ever want that to happen to me again. I remember that pain and I shudder and slink away.

It was scary that someone could affect me in such a way. Maybe it was because we grew up together and I lost a childhood friend. I had so many things to grieve. All I knew is that my heart was reserved for one person and if that wasn’t going to be then I was going to get on with my life. Because with that person I don’t think I could have done all that I have done.

Since then I have finished my undergraduate degree, I have travelled, I have started law school and I have done some incredible things. I couldn’t have done this before. That much I know.

I just want the dreams to stop. I don’t want to have another one. I want to know what they mean. That nearly five years later it haunts my every thought. Is it the loss I have suffered? Is it the drugs? Is it the loneliness that I feel? Or is it something deeper and more profound. Or is it the damned morphine and surgical menopause?

My solid self tells me that I am just truly traumatised with this years events. Maybe I miss a childhood friend that knew me so well. Maybe I miss that closeness. Or maybe I am just a blearing mess full of menopause and morphine?

I am that girl with endo who has chosen to be alone. I think these dreams mean that I shouldn’t be any longer. I think they mean that you have loved and you can love again. So… when I am well enough… I am going to put myself out there. Maybe ;)