Greetings, squadlings!

A warning to the men who read this blog (if there even are any besides my stepdad): Endometriosis is a lady problem. It involves the uterus. Cuz y’all are so damn fragile, I felt the need to put this here. 

A side note to anyone else: I know this is a different type of post for me. I’ve talked openly about my bouts with anxiety and mental breakdowns, but never really anything physical. So, here it is, folks: I have Endometriosis. I was diagnosed in March. There’s a cyst on my left ovary. If it’s not gone in ten weeks, I may need surgery. Why I’m telling you all of this, I have no idea.

You’re probably wondering why I titled this post “A Morning In The Life of Endometriosis” instead of “A Morning In The Life of Someone With Endometriosis.” Well, to be honest, you aren’t really a person when Endo pain hits. You’re just a bundle of cells who can’t move. When Endo pain hits, you BECOME Endo.

Monday, 10:58PM–

The headache starts. Not a normal headache. A headache that’s your body’s way of saying “LOL, you’re screwed.” I know what’s coming in the morning. This should be fun. 

Tuesday, 5:42AM–

I wake up to a pain on my left side. It’s not terrible, just a dull ache. It’s starting. Awesome. 

Tuesday, 8:34AM–

I give up and finally get up and get ready for class. The second my feet hit the floor, the back pain starts. I have to lean back against my bed to steady myself before I get up and get dressed.

Tuesday, 9:02AM–

I’m on the bus when the nausea starts. You know the feeling; you feel cold, starting in your feet and running up the rest of your body. Oh yes.

Tuesday, 9:12AM–

The bus arrives at school. I stand up out of my seat and the pain hits. It’s bad. I take a deep breath and step off the bus. I can’t miss class.

Tuesday, 9:16AM–

After taking the elevator up one floor, I collapse onto a bench in the hallway. The pain is excruciating now. I try to get up to go to my 9:30 class, just four classrooms down the hall, and I can’t. 

Tuesday, 9:26AM–

I manage to drag myself to a bathroom, where I try to compose myself before going to class. It doesn’t work. Defeated, I pull out my phone and check the city bus tracker. It’s almost to campus. I grab my backpack off the floor and waddle down the hallway. I contemplate taking a painkiller, but I know it won’t work.

Tuesday, 9:28AM–

I call my mom on my way to the bus stop. I’m dragging myself down the stairs, trying to make it to the bus stop before the bus leaves and I have to wait another 20 minutes. I tell my mom I can barely stand and I need to go back to my apartment. She doesn’t have much of a reaction: she feels bad, but there’s nothing she can do.

Tuesday, 9:42AM–

The bus pulls up to my apartment complex, and I haul ass to my room. I refill my water bottle in the kitchen and dive into bed, wrapping myself in as many blankets as tightly as possible to maybe cut off the pain. I message a friend of mine, who was diagnosed with Endometriosis just yesterday. She’s the only person who will ever understand how bad this pain really is. 

So now, here we are. 10:30AM on Tuesday, and I’m laying in bed. My back is killing me, my cramps are horrible, and there’s a pain so sharp in my stomach it might as well be a knife. No amount of Ibuprofen or Tylenol could ever dull the pain I’m in. All I can do is wait for it to pass, and hope it does soon.

If anyone needs me, I’ll be watching Marvel films in bed all day.

Be well, squadlings.