So it's been a while since I posted anything here, in fact it has been 28 days. I haven't written because I haven't been able to find the words. It's not often I find myself unable to find any words, I'm sure Chris will stand testament to this because I even talk in my sleep. But lately I am devoid of the vocabulary needed to deconstruct my thoughts and share them. It's not that I haven't had anything to write about, my mind has been racing, bouncing from one endo issue to another, so today I have decided to sit and try to scramble together enough words to coherently share the recent leg of my endo journey....
Frank (my right ovary) has gone into full blown meltdown, Frank is angry at everything and is insistent on causing absolute chaos in my pelvic cavity. Pain has once again become a daily normality and painkillers are fastly becoming the most prominent section of my daily diet. Some days are better than others but no day has been completely pain free. I am managing my days at work (which as a 26 year old with a desk job really shouldn't be such a huge achievement), I take my hot water bottle with me now and fill it so often I'm sure, despite my attempts to hide it, my colleagues have worked out I am a freak with 24/7 period pain. On the plus side I have managed to adapt a wonderful 45 degree lean that brings comfort without attention (I'm calling it the Frank Lean). So I manage work fine but if I have weekend plans I need to be sure to rest the evenings before as soon as I come in from work and the same again the evenings after galavanting at the weekend. It's a little soul crushing to be honest, being young is something that everyone takes for granted and having those years stolen from you is hard to wrap your head around.
Last weekend I indulged in attending the Belfast Craft Beer Festival and a charity event my aunt ran at home (which was overwhelmingly successful). I prepared for my personal social endurance test by having early nights with lots of rest, consuming my performance enhancing painkillers and clearing my schedule for the following days to allow for rest and recuperation.
Needless to say Frank wasn't happy with my shenanigans and so threw my pelvic neighbourhood into disarray on Sunday afternoon while I was driving along the M1, so at the first available opportunity I swapped places with Chris and he drove the rest of the way.
I thoroughly enjoyed my weekend but Frank's tantrum brought my mood down to his level. I felt miserable, angry and pityful. In the safety of my room I broke down a bit and cried angrily to Chris that what was the point preserving fertility because I couldn't have a child like this. How would I possibly raise a child in the shape I'm in. Children don't do rest days or down time. I was so angry that there was no quick fix. I raged at how cruel the whole situation was, at the pain, the exhaustion and the unknown. In that moment I decided that I wasn't going to have children, well not biological anyway. My body had been through enough, my body hurt, my mind hurt and I needed it fixed. But in the next moment I looked at Chris, I looked at his perfect nose and little ears and my heart broke thinking that our child wouldn't have its father's nose or ears and I fell to pieces. Everything I loved about this wonderful man was worth every agonizing effort to replicate.
And this has been how my thoughts have been bouncing about in my head. Back and forward.
I wish there was a quick fix, I long for a solution with a timeline, I yearn for an answer to my problem but I know it doesn't exist and at the minute I am struggling with that. I am continuing the hormone treatment prescribed to me 6 weeks ago and I see my consultant again next month but for now that is the only certainty me and my endo have.