I look like an old woman moving around these days.  My pain has become excruciating to the point where I can’t even stand up straight.  But in a strange way, this pain is actually motivating me to follow through with my plans.

I found out today that my blood clotting issues are not going to be a problem.  I will be able to take hormone replacement therapy.  As a precaution, I’ll be given blood thinning injections for five days post-op. Injections don’t bother me.  Just don’t give me a horse pill to swallow!

I love how God brings people in my life to give me just what I need, when I need it.  A friend called me out of the blue when I was in a panic attack and then prayed a powerful prayer with me, right there on the phone.  Another friend drove me to the hematologist appointment today because I was too sick to drive myself.  Yet another friend picked up prescriptions for me and brought over dinner for hubby and our daughter. And my husband brought me some hot fresh French bread from the store in hopes of teasing my appetite.

The Lord also gave me my hematologist today.  Dr. Le was a fantastic physician.  I really liked her — maybe because she is as tiny as I am!  She took one look at my hunched over posture and tender abs and lab reports and said: endometriosis.  She said that yesterday she performed a surgery on what she thought was a cancerous mass but turned out to be endometriosis all balled up on top of a woman’s appendix.  I told her that when I get this pain I get a rattle/wheeze in my right lung, and she said that, too, is likely endometriosis.

I’ve decided that my body thinks estrogen is poison.  Every time my hormone level surges (during ovulation, and just before my cycle begins), my pain surges.  That’s a pretty strong correlation, even to this non-medically-trained person.  So taking out my ovaries will be taking out my poison-producting factories.

My endoscopy was moved up to tomorrow.  It’s probably a good thing because my pain is at its peak.  The gastro doctor really hurt me yesterday with all that poking and prodding.  I’m going to politely ask him to go easy on me tomorrow and to give me some pain medicine so I don’t end up worse off tomorrow than I am today.  I’ve got phenergan in my pocket, so I think I’ll just take one of those suckers before I leave for the procedure…try to nip that nausea before it starts.  (Even though I’ve had it for the past 36 hours nonstop with zero sleep…think I may need it tonight at bedtime, too.)

Then on Friday I have the comparatively easy abdominal ultrasound to see if any endometrial lesions are visible.  Depending on the results of those tests, my GYN surgeon and the general surgeon assisting him will determine the final course of action.

How am I doing? Slightly better than I was this time last night.  The 24-hour panic attack seems to have subsided, to a degree. I am actually contemplating taking a Benadryl for its sedative effect in hopes that it will release some of the tension in my stomach muscles so I can rest tonight.  My daughter is worried about me and is having a difficult time with me being so sick.  She has some anxiety about what it will be like when I come home from surgery.  I think she has visions of me being bed-bound for two months while she takes over all the household chores plus gets all her schoolwork done, fetching me bonbons all the time, etc.  But this, too, will be good for her.  She is capable of more than she thinks.  As am I.

I’m just ready to get these poison factories outta here!