There is no reason to read this

This is all about me and my girly problems. That is all the warning you get.

I have endometriosis. I was diagnosed when I was a senior in college. This was after years and years of problems (10-ish to be exact). I missed at least 1 day of school every month from sixth grade until I finally went on the pill when I was 15.

Finally – fewer cramps (less of a lot of stuff actually) and no more worries.

It started getting really bad again my senior year of college. I went to the campus doctor (Student Death was the affectionate nickname we gave the health center — once a doc prescribed me an antibiotic that I was allergic to, not four minutes after telling him I was allergic to sulfa — good thing my mom is a nurse and I told her what I was taking before I started) and he switched me to a different pill.

I started bleeding. For six weeks. The heaviest I’ve ever bled.

I started getting really really tired, and pale (and pale definitely stands out on me. I was pretty brown) and weird.

I started shoring my energy for important things like partying and started skipping classes (lowest GPA of college was that 2nd to last semester). I went to a different doctor. A woman doctor. An Ob/Gyn. She told me that my body was just adjusting to the new pill and it was nothing to worry about. Happens all the time. I looked at her. I was breathing pretty hard from the strenuous trip to her office from the waiting room down the hall. And I asked, “Has this ever happened to you?”

She walked out.

I think I knew then that it was going to be a struggle to find (and keep!) a good doctor.

I saw my mom at Thanksgiving a couple of weeks later. She cried when she saw me because I? was not looking good.

I had a friend who had a recommendation. I went for an appointment and was introduced to the dildo cam. That was fun.

He recommended laparoscopy (or, if you believe the LJ spell check, a periscope). I had it the week school started back up again after Winter break. The surgery itself wasn’t too bad. It gave the diagnosis. He cleaned stuff up. I felt better for a long, long time.

Of course, then I moved to Los Angeles. And have been through so many doctors. The doctor who prescribed Lupron (and got mad at me when I quit 4 months in — didn’t think “emotionally volatile” was a good enough reason. So I killed him. Because I? was fucking emotionally volatile.) Finally, three years ago, I found a good doc. She’s not the best, but she’s pretty good. She listens.

She gave me valium once. When I have bad side effects from what I’m on, she listens and switches. When I get a UTI, I call the office, and the phone in a ‘scrip for me.

She’s helped me through the precancerous growths, the 16 biopsies in 3 years, and the treatments. Also? she called me personally with all news, good and bad, and helped me deal with the statement: “hey Amy? those growths? they are back again” every single time.

I got a phone call from her the other day and erased the message without listening to it. I’m overdue for an appointment, but I can’t go. I don’t have insurance anymore and I can’t afford to go in and pay for an exam.

She gave me permission to take the pill continuously so that I only get my period when my body really really wants to.

I’m actually tearing up a little right now. Probably because last week, my body decided it was, once again, time. So, I’m a little emotional.

Although I only get my period every 4-6 months now, it’s still really really bad when I do. And it never comes alone. Oh, no! We have friends. Sometimes it brings my good friend UTI and bloody piss, this time it was accompanied by an old pal – evil migraine of vomiting and death.

Because there is nothing like waking up on a Sunday morning with cramps and mild nausea, and then spending 20 minutes bowing to the porcelain god after eating Grape Nuts.

I’m not sure where this long ramble was going (or really where it went).

I have cramps.

I have a headache.

I miss my doctor and may never see her again.

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