...BUT DID YOU DIE??

I mean, we all will, eventually. Die, that is. The only things that are certain in life are death and taxes, right? And, of course, the fact that if you put two matching socks in the dryer at the same time, only one is coming out... But I digress. My point is that we're all dying, but death didn't take me this week, even though there were a few times when I thought it would. You see, Mother Nature is kind of a control freak. She doesn't really like to be messed with, even when what she's doing is making you feel terrible. So, now that I'm fighting Mother Nature, she's punching back. Right in the uterus. My friend came to visit AGAIN this week, which makes three times in the last six weeks. "You're getting good at that," my husband said. He's got jokes.

So, while week three wasn't nearly as bad as week one, it wasn't as good as week two, which still wasn't great. Like I said, Mother Nature does not like to be effed with, and she is mad at me right now. Hopefully, this is not an indication of things to come and, rather, my body still adjusting to a new hormone, because this is definitely no way to live. Especially when the opposite is supposed to be happening! I wish I knew how long it would take before things get better (I am still holding out hope that this is one of those "it gets worse before it gets better" situations), at least so I could see some light at the end of the tunnel. Right now, the only light comes from looking for the end of the week. I'm celebrating today because I made it through week three. Yes, I know it's Wednesday, but I'm currently measuring my weeks by how long I've been taking the trial drug, so we go Wednesday to Tuesday. It makes sense if you don't think about it.

So, basically, "...but did you die?" is how I'm living life right now, because it's kind of how I've always lived my life, at least my adult life. I didn't feel good, I made myself do something, I didn't die, I'm good. Endo is fickle like that. You get so used to feeling bad and pushing through that most people don't even realize you feel bad. If you know me, you're probably like, "But you run, you work out all the time, maybe if you did less of that, you wouldn't be so tired (or have so many flare ups, or be borderline anemic, or really just insert whatever you think you know here)." Trust me, I've heard it. But if I took a day off every time that I felt bad, I would spend my entire life on the couch! So, yes, I work out. Yes, I run. Yes, I take ibuprofen for the pain, thanks for the suggestion. I've had people (doctors, even!) tell me that exercising more will relieve the "cramps." When I first showed symptoms, back when I was 16 and a high-level competitive gymnast who spent 20+ hours in the gym every week, I had a doctor tell me that if I exercised more, the cramps would go away. My mom was like, "Did you not hear what she just said? 20+ HOURS PER WEEK. IN THE GYM." But, "Did you not hear what I said?" is something you will find yourself saying to a doctor quite frequently if you have endometriosis. Probably any kind of chronic disease for that matter. So, I go on. I assess. And if I did not die, well, that's better than the alternative.

Yours,

Test Subject 521-002