“Endometriosis” – the word that started the year of being on the waiting list for IVF. This was the word that started the process of coming to term with the hidden monster inside.
“Endometriosis Laparoscopy”. It wasn’t something that I was expecting prior seeing my specialist as mentioned in my last post. Before the diagnosis I had all the symptoms but not one doctor that I saw in the past picked it up.
I was deeply frustrated. I was angry. I was also relieved.
I remembered seeing a doctor for the first time about painful periods when I was around 12 or 13. Apparently everything was “normal”. Since then I probably have seen the different doctors again numerous times – everything was “normal”. Finally the last time I saw my GP about infertility, she still had no idea (obviously using the word “normal” as a disguise for her incompetency). By then I was worried about my ticking biological clock, and had decided to seek further advice from specialist even without a referral.
Processing my past experience with various GPs I saw was incredibly difficult. I was pissed off, I was annoyed, I was frustrated, I was annoyed… I felt like they had wasted so much of my time and energy, and mostly – all of them had let me down utterly and completely. If I had super lawyer power or had unlimited resources or had access to super lawyers I would want to sue every single one of them.
Then I was relieved. Finally I had an answer to what exactly was going on inside me (they showed me pictures!).
I had an incredibly understanding boss at the time. She also has endo and she was more then happy to approve my medical leave. This meant a lot to me because the last time I had to have a surgery I pretty much had to quit my job.
I had a good medical team – they were kind, friendly, and made me felt at ease. I went into the hospital in the morning, and after they weighed me and asked a few questions, I was wheeled into the theatre. It was supposed to be a discovery surgery, but the surgeon managed to clear away the blockage. Things weren’t looking that great inside he said, and showed me the pictures. Category 4. But it was a definitive diagnosis.
There was no cure for this disease.
Of course I googled the sh*t out of it and there were many sort of “remedies” but none were really feasible. I didn’t really believe in these remedies anyway. I was sick of people giving me advice already. The only advice I wanted to take was from my own specialist.
As I recovered from the surgery I started to wonder if I would ever be able to have children. How many rounds of IVF could my body take?