Today I feel awful.
I honestly feel like I can’t go on anymore.
All my positivity has completely vanished out of me and I feel completely broken.
My body isn’t happy – I know this because I know my own body.
I am in agony.
I have tried to get back to normal and, every time, my body tells me “no” “You’re absolutely not ready yet, stop trying to push yourself. Go home, sleep and rest.”
Nobody told me recovery would be the hard part.
I thought I would have my surgery and I would get better.
Alright, I knew there would be a bit of time while my wounds healed.
But then I’d be back to normal – surely?
Well, not even normal, the normal I was before this goddamn illness stole who I was.
That’s the thing with endometriosis, and I’m honestly starting to wonder…
Do you ever go back to the way you were?
Do you ever have a ‘normal’ life again?
Does it ever truly go away?
I know there’s no cure.
But the consultant made it seem like I stood a chance of being okay again.
“There’s a 30% chance it will come back.”
That’s a statistic I thought I could live with.
I foresaw me getting my life back. I saw me being pain free and having a future.
Right now, currently, in this moment, my pain is worse than before I had surgery.
My superficial wounds seem to be healing okay, but my internal ones don’t feel like they’re healing at all.
My hormones are all over the place – worse than ever before.
My pain is worse than it was and I’m still dosed up on cocodamol (which was supposed to be a short term solution, and I’ve now been on it for 3 months).
Today I’ve completed the tiniest of tasks and this has resulted in me drenched in sweat, sitting on my sofa, unable to move, sobbing my eyes out.
This is what I’ve done today:
- Got up
- Had a shower
- Made my breakfast
- Ate my breakfast
- Watched Jeremy Kyle, This Morning, Loose Women and Judge Rinder
- Looked at some school work then realised my brain fog wouldn’t let me do anything productive
- Nipped out to the garden centre to buy some compost
Surely those don’t constitute strenuous tasks?
And it’s the same each time – I’m no better – there’s no marked improvement.
Since coming out of hospital a week last Friday I have left the house 3 times. One of those times was to be driven 5 minutes around the corner to my in laws house, where I ate lovely home cooked food and sat propped up on their sofa for 3 hours. Again, hardly strenuous tasks.
I am due back at work on Monday, and I literally have no idea how I’m going to teach for 5 hours a day when my body is like this.
I feel like I’m letting everyone down.
I’m part of a team and I haven’t been there to contribute for weeks.
I haven’t even been able to help them mark the piles of exam papers they undoubtedly have.
I feel like an awful, awful person. I am literally no use to anyone right now.
Everybody who has had this procedure span things in such a positive light. So much so, I thought I knew what was coming. I didn’t even hesitate signing that consent form. I thought I would be fine. In fact, I thought I would be more than fine, I thought I would be better. Now I’m wishing I’d just carried on dealing with the pain, because at least I was at work. At least I was doing something, instead of just being a huge pointless potato consuming ridiculous amounts of daytime TV and crying on my wonderful fiancé every time he gets home from work.