Chronic Ama

It's been 8 days since surgery. I'm finally starting to have good days with minimal pain and discomfort. I finally started to tackle my "to-do" list today and checked a few things off. I'm hoping to file my taxes next week and get that shit out of the way, as long as my W2 from work makes it here. After completing a few things today, I realized I'm at the mercy of my emotions lately. I am still dealing with depression and slight anxiety. I am still not sleeping too well. Just when I find the right combo of meds to take before bed, it all goes out the window. Sometimes I come out of a deep sleep thinking about my grandfather. I wake up disoriented and my heart is sad, yet I don't feel the need to cry. Sometimes I wake up with breakthrough pain, even just hours after taking my nightly meds. It strikes me out of no where and I wake up worried that I will need to go to the hospital. Falling back asleep is difficult when you refuse to go to the ER, but th

In the spawn of a second, nothing really changed but a digit on my smart phone screen. Why do we celebrate a new year anyway? Because each calendar year must be ended and commemorated with the illusions of resolutions for a new set of numbers to live by. That's a lot to take in. Because life is, simply, cyclical. What begins, must come to an end. What ends fosters new beginning. I don't do resolutions. I never have. Besides, there are so many ways to resolve to be better and no one way is truly the right way. And why would anyone resolve to do the same things over again because you didn't accomplish them previously? That, my friends, is a sure route to depression and self loathing that not one of us deserves. Seriously, don't resolve to do anything for the second year unless you have a damned good excuse for not getting it done the first time around. That's probably how aging works. You can never spend to much time wishing because you end up with a bag of regret.

Making the trek back from Phoenix now. I had a follow up appointment with my pelvic pain specialist, Dr. Desai. She's amazing. She puts things straight forward with no sugar coating. She gives us all the information we need to make decisions in my healthcare. She is patient and never rushes us knowing we drive two hours to see her. With that, I (we) have decided that surgery is the next best step to take. The alternative was giving 3 months of physical therapy a shot to see if that brings any relief, but I didn't feel that was the best route to go. At least with surgery, if she finds endo lesions, she can excise them and I can start fresh. If endo isn't found, she will take a look around and cut any adhesions that could be the culprit of pain. Either way the surgery goes, we will have a clear path to follow to get my back to where I want to be. Following surgery I will likely go to physical therapy again as part of recovery. The goal is to put even more time between surge

OH MY GAWD! I have so much to say right now. Like, my brain finally processed all that noise and now I can package it up and sell it like American cheese. Calm down. Not sure where I was going with that cheese part, except I haven't had much to eat today unless you count the popcorn samples and can of Chef Boy-are-you-kidding-me-this-isn't-pasta I ate. Oh, and a pretzel at work because I love stress eating and intended to, but life happened and I still have a pastry from my all time favorite spot chilling in a bag on the table... It's all because this morning I dropped the thing I love just a little more than my kids as a result of my back spasm. My beloved make-up and brushes cascaded down around me like Sephora was literally making it rain. Sit down, I actually do love my kids more, even when my favorite black sparkly Kat VonD lippie is painted on the side of the bathroom cabinet. I held my breath inhumanely long when I saw that disasterpiece. So yeah, my back spams s

Last year's vacation was just three weeks after my first excision surgery for endometriosis. I had had plenty of ablation surgeries along with a hysterectomy previously. I wasn't afraid of going on an 8 hour car trip so soon. It was something I looked forward to. This year feels different. In the last month, my endo symptoms have been looking over my shoulder day in and day out. I was actually scared of the car trip and the walking. It's not normal to have stabbing pains when my bladder is full, but that happened yesterday. I can remember a trip to San Diego a few years ago that I packed double for not knowing if I'd be swollen like I was in my second trimester. It really didn't bother me then. Now I find myself only buying stretchy pants and leggings. Thankfully stretch jeans are all the fashion. Comfort is key, right?  I really shouldn't care, but the swelling has become a symbol of pain and discomfort again. It can sometimes be a symbol of healin