Blind Obedience

Following my outpatient "Party in the OR," I gave no more thought to the disease called endometriosis. I didn't even bother to look it up after my initial diagnosis. It had been removed and, as far as I was concerned, it was a non-issue.

Around the 6 month mark post-op, pain began cropping up again, at first only occasionally, but by 9 months post-operatively, I was experiencing life disrupting pain on a daily basis. Dr. McLelland, the OB-GYN who had done my laparoscopy, prescribed narcotic pain medication which sometimes helped, but most often, did not. As a busy, working mother of two, I had little time to be knocked out by narcotics, so I tried not to take them unless I absolutely had to. I was laid up...a lot. It began to effect my job. I did my best to keep up with everything and just push through even when I was dying inside with pain. Even though my full-time position as Resident Manager of a duplex community only required me to commute to an office downstairs in my own home, the role also required that I take potential residents out and give them tours of apartments on the property we managed (105 units total) that were vacant. It was exhausting and I was in pain...all day, every day.

I met with my doctor again in late August of 2007 and she recommended a medication called Lupron. I had no idea what it was, but if it meant that I would no longer have pain, I was game for anything. She explained that this 3-month injection would put me into a medicinally-induced form of menopause, stop the production of estrogen which feeds the endometriosis and end the disease. She suggested that we inject the first dose into a "blank canvas" by conducting a second laparoscopy to, once again, clear out any new endometriosis growths and then, prevent it from growing back with menopause. To me, a person who had not even done one Google search for the word endometriosis, this sounded reasonable and I signed up for a second "party in the OR" with the naivete of blind obedience to conventional medicine. I didn't consider any other option. I didn't question that not even one whole year had passed since my original laparoscopy on October 30, 2006. I didn't ask why this was happening again so soon. I simply got the necessary paperwork together and was scheduled for surgery on October 1, 2007.  This one would go just like the first, but would end with a giant syringe of medication priced at $1875 per injection being shot into my posterior.