Living with Lupus has it’s own set of challenges, but when your chronic female issues collide with your autoimmune issues, you better get ready for a battle. Get your boxing gloves ready because a fight on this level can make you feel defeated or give you great triumph. Some days I’m feeling like Rocky Balboa in round 1 against Apollo and other days I’m shouting “Adrian” as I’m heralding myself as the champ! So how did I even begin a battle that ended up with my uterus getting an eviction notice? Pull up a comfy chair, if you aren’t sitting in one already, and let’s begin.

Since the age of 19, I have dealt with chronic pain I couldn’t even begin to understand and in the 90’s, doctors didn’t understand it either. I spent so many nights in the ER clutching my abdomen that I needed a punch card or at least some frequent flyer mile points. It was always one of 3 things they’d tell me before discharging me with pointless pain medications: 1. You are having pre menstrual cramps before your period. 2. You are on your period and experiencing cramps. 3. You just finished your period and still having cramps. 

Cramps?! Give me a break. Cramps I can deal with. This felt like Apollo from Rocky had punched me over and over until I nearly passed out. This can’t be normal. Were these the pains that women were just expected to deal with? I certainly don’t remember that chapter in health class. Thanks for the heads up! *eye roll*

Fast forward to one night I was walking and the pain hit me so hard, I passed out and hit the pavement. I’m lucky someone I actually knew drove by, saw my head on the concrete parking lot and got me to the ER. As per the usual routine, the doctor said I was experiencing the natural wonders of being a woman and if they hadn’t doped me up, I would’ve hit her with the urine bucket and welcomed her to a real battle of womanhood.

At this time of my life, I was eventually led to a naval hospital in Florida (that’s a whole novel on how I got to that point), where I lived and where I somehow lucked out when the medical director was appalled at the number of visits I had to the ER. She was even more shocked at how her staff had treated me. The only way to get to the bottom of this, was something called a diagnostic laparoscopy. Back then, that sounded pretty scary but it was basically opening me up to take a look around.

At the time, I was in a severely abusive relationship and up until that point, he had told me over and over how I was faking my pain and that I was just lazy. He even went so far as to say that I was only in pain when it was convenient. Yes indeed. My pain was certainly so convenient that I needed to take a nap onto concrete. Total convenience. Wow! Now I sat in a hospital bed looking at my Mom and looking at him wondering if this was all truly just in my head or maybe “womanhood” was just a dirty word. 

When I woke up out of surgery, this amazing doctor had a picture in her hand that resembled a cigar burn. “What’s that?” I asked and she told me a word that was completely new to my vocabulary: Endometriosis. After explaining how painful it can be, how she removed it, and how this could be a chronic condition, I started crying with tears of relief and fear all in one. Not much was known about endometriosis back then and the internet did not have the wealth of knowledge and articles it has today. I was only 19 and barely had lived away from home, let alone ready to tackle a chronic illness that no one knew how to treat or even what to expect.

If there is any humor to be found, I remember hearing the Blue Angels were visiting people in the hospital; especially sick children. I was barely an adult but I never expected to meet a group of hunky pilots to come say “Get well soon!” and give me an awesome sweatshirt. They looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see them. They absolutely did what they were there to do for sure which is cheer me up. I was gonna need it for what I was about to face ahead of me.

That was where my journey began. That road had so many hurdles and so much pain (physically and mentally) that I broke down more times than I can count. Endometriosis for me led to multiple miscarriages, many nights writhing in pain, and taking a gamble on what activity I’d have to pass on so I could lie in bed with a heating pad that only produced heat instead of pain relief. If I knew then what I know now, I would’ve stayed at my Mom’s house and not returned to Florida. 

Stay tuned for Part 2 of this journey that led me down the road to making one of the biggest medical decisions of my life.