Be strong because things will get better. It may be stormy now, but it never rains forever. - Evan Carmichael
As I sit here, counting down the days, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions. In exactly one week, I have an appointment with an endometriosis specialist—an appointment that holds the promise of relief from the unrelenting pain that has consumed my life. It's a flicker of hope amidst the darkness, a glimmer of light in the storm that rages within me.
The pain has become unbearable, a constant companion that gnaws at me day and night. It's a relentless force that renders me immobile, incapable of doing the simplest of tasks. Nausea grips me, and my appetite has all but vanished. I long for the respite that only anesthesia-induced sleep can offer—the temporary escape from this agonising reality.
But it's not just the physical pain that haunts me. The toll it takes on my mental and emotional well-being is equally devastating. I find myself in tears every day, overwhelmed by the weight of it all. The stress, the anxiety, and the constant fear of missing work—the fear of being perceived as unreliable or lazy—hang over me like a dark cloud. And in the midst of it all, depression has settled in, casting its long, suffocating shadow.
I've reached a breaking point. The balancing act of managing the pain, the strong medications, the need for sleep, my demanding job, and all the other responsibilities in my life has become an insurmountable challenge. I had to make a difficult choice—I had to drop out of my studies. It was a painful decision, but one that I had to make in order to prioritise my health and preserve what little strength I have left.
Every other day, I find myself teetering on the edge, contemplating resigning from my job or even considering a one-way ticket to a place free from pain. I know these thoughts are unhealthy, born out of desperation and the sheer magnitude of suffering. The pain, when it reaches a 10/10 intensity, drives one to negotiate with God for a reprieve, to beg for a better existence.
But in just one week, everything could change. The specialist appointment looms on the horizon—a lifeline that I cling to with every ounce of hope within me. I yearn for that moment when I sit across from the expert who understands the complexities of endometriosis, who will listen to my story, and who will offer a plan for treatment. I long for the day when I'll receive a surgery date—a date that represents the possibility of relief and a step towards reclaiming my life.
This dreadful cycle of unhealthy thoughts and emotions is all too familiar to many other warriors fighting this battle. It's a common experience—a place where pain can drive you to the edge, where the mind becomes a battleground for sanity.
Yet, in the midst of this darkness, there are beacons of light that guide me through. My husband, with his unwavering love, begs me to hold on. His words of encouragement resonate within me, reminding me that I am not alone in this fight. Even my fur baby, with his adorable puppy eyes and unwavering loyalty, reminds me to keep pushing forward.
For them, and for myself, I must summon every ounce of strength I have left. I must hold on for just seven more sleeps. It won't be easy, and the road ahead may be filled with more obstacles, but I refuse to let the pain and despair define me.
As I count down the days, my heart is filled with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. I hold onto the hope that this upcoming appointment will mark the beginning of a new chapter—a chapter of pain relief, understanding, and empowerment. I am reminded that I am more than the limitations imposed upon me by this dreadful illness.
To all those who walk this path with me, thank you for your unwavering support, patience, and love. Your presence, understanding, text messages and phone calls make a world of difference.
In just one week, the countdown will be over, and a new journey will begin. Until then, I will muster the strength to endure, to hold onto hope, and to cherish the love that surrounds me. Together, we will navigate the twists and turns, fighting for a future where endometriosis no longer holds us captive.
The countdown continues, but so does our resilience. And for that, we are unstoppable.
Keep fighting, my fellow warriors. Relief is on the horizon.
Signed
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