The last few weeks have been really tough, spending four days in hospital between Christmas and the New Year meant that I didn't start 2015 in the best possible way. Over the last 4 weeks I have had countless blood tests, scans and appointments with my GP (who fortunately is fantastic and really seems to understand my need to have answers). After being referred onto a gynaecologist things have really started to move forward now, I have been really fortunate that my local private hospital accepts NHS patients so rather than waiting for an appointment to come through I was seen within 2 weeks. My consultant is an incredible man who has vowed to get to the bottom of the pain, after 4 months of pain you can understand my relief that the end may be in sight. My consultant has already told me that he is certain the endometriosis has returned and that the only way of being sure is to go in and have a look - he has agreed to remove my appendix at the same time (over the years whenever I have had a flare up I have spent at least 24 hours on a ward being observed for appendicitis not having an appendix rules this out immediately). Whilst I am getting close to finding out the reason for the constant pain the questions keep building up.
Could I be responsible? Has my battle with an eating disorder turned my body against me? Has my body finally crumpled under the immense amount of stress I have put it under? Of course the logical part of my brain says that I haven't given myself endometriosis, that unfortunately this is just the hand I have been dealt in life, that logic doesn't help though. I have lost track of the amount of times I have cried, silently sobbing, my chest heaving and my body crumbling as I try to cope with the pain and keep on going. There is one question, a question that has been floating around my brain for a couple of years now, a question with an answer I still don't think I am strong enough to face, that of my own fertility.
Ever since I was a young girl I have always wanted to be mummy, it never crossed my mind growing up that I wouldn't be able to. Even when I was diagnosed in my early twenties I still didn't really think there would be any problems, now though is time to face up to facts. I don't have regular periods, I never have, unless I have tests done there is no way of knowing for sure that I ovulate every month. I always anticipated that when the time was right I would just get pregnant, now that seems like a ridiculous notion. I can't imagine myself having a child, I think my brain has almost blocked the idea to protect me from any possible heartache down the line. After the laparoscopy it will be time to invest my fertility, I don't know that I am in the right place to find out now but then again I don't know if I will ever be in the right place.
2015 looks like it will be the year for answers, good or bad. Whatever the outcome I will have to face facts, brush myself down and continue moving forward with my life.
Christmas Day picture because why not?! |
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