Ok, so I used to be a big Star Trek fan, but that was a long time ago!
But I think this phrase sums up what it means to live with endo. i.e. the strange mix of disappointments but trying to find the positives in all this, because they are there, oh yes.
Disappointments:
- 20's spent having shockingly painful sex and thinking this was normal - grrrr to that one!
- Seeing endless health professionals - Gynae no 1 'it's because you're moving house', Gynae no 2 'it can't be that bad' and so on. Thank goodness for Gynae no 3 who saved me from the terrible pain of endo that had invaded my bowel and bladder.
- Having strange bladder complications that no one seems to have seen before, that have landed me in hospital so many times (please, please may I never have to dial 999 again)
- Never quite managing to start IVF
- Losing my career
And the positives:
- Finding a way to manage things because there is always a way. I owe this entirely to my lovely Mum - she handled a 12 year battle with cancer. She never complained, never blamed anyone, never lost hope. She gave me the strength to know I can handle what life throws at me and to value each day.
- Helping other ladies with their journey
- Finding new skills like painting and mountain climbing in a quest to raise funds for Endo UK
- Meeting some incredible people along the way
- Having an opportunity, now, to recreate myself, to do something different - if I was well, I wouldn't have had the courage to do so
Ok, so we can't control the major things that happen to us but I guess what we can do is to try and manage the way we deal with them. Not easy. But some days, it is possible. There is a chink of light, a hope, a small ray of sun that we have to seize.
I lost my Mum in 2007. She was 58 and she died smiling. She still made us laugh in those final days. I don't know how she did it. In dark moments, I always remember this.