Endometriosis is a painful disease of the female body that occurs when the lining of the endometrium thrives in areas other than the uterus. This tissue often adheres to the ovaries, fallopian tubes and pelvic cavity. It is reported that in the later stages it can spread to the intestines, bladder and in rare cases to the lungs, heart and even the brain. Endometriosis causes a staggering 1 in 10 women of reproductive age, however little progress has been made in terms of treatment options. The lack of information and medical advice allowed women to struggle to cope with their physical and emotional trauma, not hoping to find a permanent solution.
In childhood, puberty struck me as a tidal wave at the tender age of ten. There were no warning signs, and I have not yet received puberty or started sex education in the classroom. I remember hearing from a friend that periods were something a woman received once in her life, and even the thought of menstruation for one full week almost led to the burning of my teenage mind. When I frantically shouted to mom from the bathroom and introduced my situation, she was confronted with the fact that, in her opinion, she had years to prepare. It was at that moment that the roller coaster was set in motion.
The pain began almost immediately. I'm not talking about your typical uterine cramps, I mean the intestinal prick, which radiated through my pelvic cavity and lower back, along my legs and the soles of my legs. I missed a lot of school and spent the week of each month curled up in the fetal position, clinging to a heating bag for dear life. I struggled to wrap my ten-year-old mind, why it suddenly became my destiny when I lay in bed, listening to the carefree play of my peers on the street. At that time, I felt I should be the only one; now, given the statistics, there were probably so many other little girls at home with their moms, faced with a similar battle.
Of course, my parents were worried. We were constantly in the offices of doctors and left them for physical examinations and ultrasounds. Each time we pointed to a new specialist who quickly transferred us to the next one. By the age of thirteen, I had at least ten ultrasounds under my belt and were transferred to a competent gynecologist without explaining the reasons for my pain. So over the next nine years, I bit my tongue and thought that the pain of what the doctrine did was simple ovarian cysts and difficult periods.
As a result of the pain, I missed a lot of work due to lack of it. I felt that my self-esteem was being depleted more with every company that let me go. I even began to wonder if it was all “in my head”; in the end, they never told me that something was wrong with me. Anxiety and depression, which stretched to the train of pain, were equally debilitating. For years, I fought a mysterious, painful monster inside of me. Without any answers or hopes in sight, it reduced me to faint, disgusting disgust.
At 22, while visiting a family in British Columbia, I was thrown into an Emergency in the middle of the night. It seemed to me that a bomb appeared in me. I arrived pale and wriggled in pain, and for the first time I was seriously referred by the medical staff. I had to do emergency surgery in the early hours of the morning so that they could open me up and take a close look at what the ultrasound could not be detected. When I woke up from the operation, I finally had the answers. When I came up with a crash, the surgeon was at my bedside to explain that they discovered cancer of endometriosis. He rated my case as “stage IV” and said that He had spread like wild fire through my body. He further explained that, although they did not feel comfortable removing my ovaries, this would significantly impair my fertility and the chances of carrying the baby. He left me with several photos of my pelvic cavity before and after the operation and did his best to answer my questions.
I was in a hospital bed and tried to negotiate with the news that I received just a few hours ago. Due to the lack of space in the hospital, I was kept in the maternity ward, which seemed to be a cruel joke, given the circumstances. All night I heard women working in the adjoining rooms, because I also suffered pain in the joints caused by a completely different diagnosis. Every day, when I was physically recovering, I was emotionally unraveled. Through all these years of pain, I have never felt so alone. Getting the answers I’ve been looking for all these years didn’t lead to the closing I was hoping for and only made the future more complicated. I wondered why me? If there is a God, how could he do this to me? I was born with a strong motherly feeling, it just cannot be my destiny.
I struggled to cope with the rest of my 20s, but during these years I needed time to repel, mourn, and get overcoming mechanisms to help ensure a more productive, peaceful existence. I did more surgery to clear the endometriosis spray and improve bladder and bowel function after several painful episodes. When I got back on my feet, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. Frustrated by the lack of instructions provided by the medical staff, I vowed to arm myself with the tools necessary to do everything in my power to slow down the destruction of the disease. I researched endlessly. I completely changed my diet to make sure that I did not consume foods that literally fed the disease. It was reliable to cope with those aspects of endometriosis that were under my control. I learned to be patient with my body and to encourage healing through healthy eating, gentle exercise, and positive self-exchange. I continue to take it every day when it comes, and I understand that living with chronic pain often causes you to make adjustments. Again, I hope for the first time in my age, but I know that my battle is far from over.
This disease knows no boundaries, but in terms of treatment or successful long-term treatment, the world of medicine is lagging behind. My story is not unusual. Too many women experience these experiences and leave feeling ignored and isolated. Women took their lives after dealing with the physical and emotional aspects of endometriosis, which for some means chronic daily pain, making it impossible to get out of bed, have a career, or carry a child. Fortunately, many endometriosis patients began to communicate with each other through online forums, trying to connect themselves with other people who can communicate, empathize and offer advice and sympathy. Many of these women have teamed up to raise awareness and organize charity events to raise funds for much-needed research. They created petitions aimed at the government and the medical field, hoping to shed light on the often exaggerated effects that endometriosis has on the quality of life of millions of women around the world.
If you or someone you know is struggling with menstrual problems or pain, which is more than cramping, immediately bringing them to the doctor. If you turn away without enough answers, keep pushing. The sooner you can cope with endometriosis, the more likely it is to slow the disease before it threatens fertility and / or organ function. Go to those around you and join the support group. There really is no better support than those who also live with endometriosis, and I cannot encourage it. This helped me gain authority, support, and valuable knowledge that could not be found in Google search results. If we continue to get together, continue to move forward and output our experience, our voices will eventually be heard. We are not only fighting for our own health, but also for the fact that generations of women have not achieved what is not yet.
© Brittany Dayman
