My friends have been fantastic. I hadn't really talked about endometriosis or the fact I was going into hospital with many people before the laparoscopy, 1) because it hadn't been confirmed and 2) I was only just getting my head around it. During my time in hospital, after Mr Kalu had given me the diagnosis, I had time to digest what I'd been told and I decided that I didn't want to hide anything from my friends and family. I think the reason endometriosis isn't widely understood is because nobody appears to be talking about it - why is it a taboo subject? Conversations since my diagnosis all follow the same path, or rather, cul-de-sac. Everyone seems to know someone who has endometriosis - a friend, a friend of a friend, a sister of a friend, but that's as far as their observation goes.
No sooner had I arrived home after the operation, I was delighted to get a visit from my friend Helen and her little girl Sophie. It temporarily took my mind off the pain as my incisions were starting to get very uncomfortable, especially where the laparoscope went through my navel. The messages coming in from friends were so supportive, I was glad I'd made the decision to share my diagnosis with my nearest and dearest. Over the next few days more cards and flowers arrived and despite feeling dispirited, I was definitely feeling very loved.
I found the pain to be manageable with paracetamol and ibuprofen every few hours for the first couple of days. I had codeine from the hospital on standby but I only wanted to use this as a last resort. I was feeling incredibly bloated and already quite constipated so I didn't want to exacerbate this by throwing codeine into the mix.
It took much of the first week to recover from the effects of the anaesthetic. It felt like I'd been given quite a high dose as I was drowsy and fatigued a lot of the time. One minute I would feel bright as a button, then followed a surge of lethargy that I couldn't shake. The nodding dog was back. I tried to get up and walk around the house as much as possible to try and reduce the swelling in my stomach as this was by far the most uncomfortable part of the recovery process - I can only compare it to feeling like an over-inflated balloon, ready to burst at any given minute. That paired with the pulling sensation on my incisions made getting up and sitting down a little tricky, especially for the first couple of days. I soon adapted to using a swivel motion and my arms to push myself up rather than my abdominals - those muscles were in hiding anyway.
Another issue I was struggling to cope with was the heavy bleeding. I put this down to my uterus having to accommodate this new contraption and the surgery rather than a bulky ten day period. Having been on the pill for so long, I wasn't used to so many days of continuous copious bleeding and I wasn't dealing very well with having to revert back to using sanitary pads. It had been 20 years since I banished the cumbersome days of big knickers, it felt like I was regressing. To put it bluntly, I felt gross.
Scarlett had most definitely returned to Tara.
The pump in my shower unit decided to inconveniently give up the ghost just before I went into hospital and it was a few days before we could get someone in to fix it. I was told not to have a bath for a week after the operation as the wounds aren't supposed to be submerged but unfortunately there was no other option. I felt horrible enough, I certainly wasn't going to go cold turkey on cleanliness. For the first few days, I had to get Jon to help me wash my hair by sitting in a very shallow bath and doing, only what I can describe as a back breaking yoga pose to prevent the dressings from getting saturated while he poured jugs of water over my head. I still had the waterproof dressings they put on in hospital and I was keen to leave these on as long as possible, or at least until the shower was fixed.
Five days into my recovery and I was irritable and gloomy. I hadn't been able to go to the toilet since before the laparoscopy and I was feeling fat and heavy. It was though I had a ball and chain attached to me, although the lead weight was in my tummy instead of round my ankle. I was itching to get out, but I didn't feel quite well enough to leave the house.
I'd had enough of trying to sleep on my back but my usual curled up foetal position was too uncomfortable with the bloat and the stitches. I was also having very peculiar and somewhat eerie dreams, which I put this down to the hormones I was taking. Another side-effect was night sweats, I don't mean waking up feeling a little bit clammy, oh no no no - I'm talking full-on dripping wet bed sheets. And there was me thinking that HRT was supposed to manage menopausal symptoms!
I filled my recovery time watching episodes of Girls, which I didn't know until later is created by and stars
Lena Dunham who also suffers with endometriosis. When I was feeling a little perkier, I started researching the jargon of my diagnosis letter (
next post) and poured over information and forums on the internet. I was amazed by how many websites there are on the subject. There are so many women with such debilitating symptoms, I began to feel lucky that I've been able to live a relatively normal life. I joined facebook support groups and spent hours reading everyone's stories. This was when I decided to write my own blog, to really understand my symptoms starting at the very beginning. I trawled through all my old GP and hospital letters, piecing things together bit by bit until I had a timeline of events. The light bulb in my head was slowly getting brighter.
Over the next few days I started to feel a little more human and my swollen stomach started to slowly deflate. After five days of taking a cocktail of Movicol and prune juice, I thankfully managed to pass the smallest of poops so that was a start. In the days that followed, I became more active and could now walk around the house and carry out basic chores with relative ease. A week after my surgery, I decided to change my dressings as they were starting to irritate me, plus I wanted to take a peek at the damage. I was pleased with the two abdominal incisions, they were only a centimetre wide and looked like they were healing nicely. However, the neat little inward belly button I've been used to for 36 years had changed quite dramatically. In its place was, only what can be described as a bottom shaped outie - I was horrified! I told myself that it was still early days and I should give the wound a chance to fully heal before mourning my naval.
Ten days after the laparoscopy and I was still experiencing quite a lot of discomfort, despite being a lot more active and the diminishing bloat. Some days I felt so cramped and knotted up inside, I couldn't eat anything. I was also getting stressed with what seemed like eternal bleeding - I didn't have enough big knickers to cope with this many days so Jon had to take a trip to M&S to stock up. I longed to be free of it.
I found that searching the internet can also have its disadvantages, a lot of medical information just isn't true. I started to make connections between endometriosis, HRT and the increased risk of cancer. I also read many reports that endometriosis is also connected to
fibromyalgia - a condition my mother suffers with. I brought this up with Mr Kalu at my follow-up appointment two weeks post-op and he dismissed this information immediately. He flatly told me to stop reading material on the web and put any concerns I had directly to him. I must admit, I felt a little foolish.
I felt a lot more positive following my consultation. He was pleased with how I was healing and we discussed the surgery he had carried out in more depth (cue another drawing). After listening to my explanation of the symptoms I've had since I was an early teen, he expressed that I've probably been suffering from endometriosis for all of my reproductive years. If I hadn't been investigating my fertility issues, I may not have ever uncovered the condition. He booked me in for another procedure in a few weeks so he could check on my internal progress - this would involve a hysteroscopy and thankfully no incision surgery. In the meantime, I was to carry on taking Progynova (oestrogen) and in a few days to start a course of Provera (progesterone) three times a day to induce a bleed. Another f***ing bleed. My positivity was short-lived.
Over the next few days, I advanced from wearing leggings to jeans, my stitches fell out, I went back to the gym and I returned to work. Initially, I felt quite vulnerable after each of these milestones, but as with everything new, it takes a bit of getting used to. It was definitely progress.
