Endometriosis and Me

I recently had a go at my Gran on this blog.

At the weekend she was around my parents. She was in a good mood and was really lovely to be around. She kept saying how nice it was to see everybody all together (my brothers and nephew were there too). She was a little bit funny with husband still, but at least she didn't call him fat this time.

I regret saying what I said about her, and I do love her really. She is my gran.

Since I fell ill, I have found that people fall over themselves to tell me how well I look.

I've often wandered why they do this.

Have decided there are three main reaosns.

One) They love me and want me to be well, so by saying that I look well, it makes it easier for them to believe I am actually well.

Two) They hate me and think me a fraud, and want me to know that they think me a fraud.

Three) They are lazy/busy, and don't want to have to acknowledge I am ill because that might make demands on their time.

And since coming out of hospital, no less than three people have not only told me how well i look, but how ill i looked before i went into hospital!

This drives me mad!

Because I didn't look ill before I went into hospital! Endometriosis makes your pelvis uncomfortable, it makes going to the loo and having sex painful, it makes wearing tight trousers a bad idea. But for me, whilst I've not been having periods, I've not been in significant pain, and it hasn't made me look ill!

I hate to pick on my mother-in-law (again), but this is a case in point. She comes around to see me at home after the op. Oddly, she never even asks about my hospital stay, or how the op went, or how I feel. It's like nothing has happened. So, anyway, I presume her son told her everything and that she's just respecting my privacy. Or something.

Then, just when she's about to leave, she tells me enthusiastically how great it is to see me looking well, and how ill I looked before the op!

Now, not to be horrible, but this is an out and out misrepresentation of the truth! I remember each and every occasion I saw her before the op, and I was positively glowing! The various oil supplememnts I'm taking are having a lovely affect on my hair, skin and eyes. I've looked very well for several months now!

And yet on this occasion, I looked like shite. My eyes were puffy and red from over-sleeping, my skin greasy and blotchy from lack of make-up and general care, my hair greasy from lack of being washed. I was grogged up on the drugs and generally felt sick and rough as hell.

I must admit, I couldn't hide my surprise when she pronounced how "well" I looked. I was like "do I? I feel like crap." and then because that seemed a bit rude, added "perhaps the opiates are doing me good."

Laughter all around.

But seriously, people. When dealing with someone who is battling illness never never never comment on how well, or otherwise, they look. It is irritating beyond belief. Because how people "look" is not always an indication of how "well" a person is, and even when it is, most people misinterpret and get it wrong. And anyway, it's rude. Ill people do not exist so that other people can publicly judge them and the level of their illness. If you want to know how we are, bloody ask, don't just make a guess!

Today I went into the city centre to get one or two cosmetic things that just don't seem to be available anywhere handier.

It was a hot day, but I hadn't realised it when I set out and wore a heavy jacket and shoes with socks. I sweltered. Especially on the bus. And ended up taking my jacket off and carrying it.

I felt heavy and exhausted the whole time I was out. No reason of course. I haven't done anthing that would warrant feeling heavy and exhausted.

I came back and had the sandwich to eat that I had bought in town and read the paper for an hour. Then I got up to go and clean the car, because it is in for its MOT tomorrow.

I noticed something was wrong with my right arm. I could hardly move it, and it was tender like it had been battered a few times with a plank. Odd, I thought.

I went upstairs to get the hoover for the car. By the time i got to the top of the stairs, I was sweating and out of breath. I sat on the bed and tried to get my breath. I felt weak and very, very tired.

I went for a wash to try and make myself feel a bit fresher. I noticed then that my whole face felt tender when I washed it too. Especially around my eyes. They felt like they'd had a light blow from a fist! really, really odd!

It was then i realised that I now felt sort of tender all over. I pressed my other arm, my legs, my belly. I felt sore and tender. Though my right arm was the worst - it was hardly usable. I put this down to having my jacket draped over it earlier in the day.

I went on and cleaned the car anyway, difficult with a gammy arm, and that really set things off. I went dizzy and my tinnitus was going crazy. I went and lay down on the bed, took some painkillers, and felt like I was coming down with the worst bout of flu I had ever experienced.

I managed to sleep for about half an hour.

When I woke up I felt groggy.

I ate the evening meal husband had bought from the foodhall in Selfridges - a treat for us both for the rough time we have had lately. I felt better, but weak.

I went to the loo. I realised I was spotting. That would explain the exhaustion and the general pain.

Now after watching telly and resting for the evening I feel much better. My right arm just aches a little.

But what is this? What is this constant cycle of rapid illness followed by rapid recovery? It is just so weird. When it's at its worst, I feel like I'm going to be ill for weeks, but as long as i rest instantly it goes away.

The real worry for me is that if this "thing" was to come on at work, I can't go and lie on my bed for three hours to get rid of it, so what will happen? How can I possible think of working full time when my body reacts so violently to someting as simple as carrying a coat?

I have been scouring the internet and papers for jobs to apply for. I have applied for less jobs than application forms received, and sent off for less application forms than I could have done.

Upshot. I have only applied for two jobs. This isn't a great seek-to-application conversion rate.

But the good news is (touch wood) that I've got an interview for the second job I applied for next week. I would have been gutted had I not got an interview, even though I was by no means sure I would get one, because it is a dream job. It's only covering for maternity leave, but that suits me fine, because it is also full time, and I have huge doubts about how well I can manage full time for any length of time.

But when I saw it in the paper, I couldn't not apply for it. And when I got invited for interview, I couldn't not accept. If i get the job, and I have no idea of my chances of that, then there is no conceivable chance that I will turn it down. I've been on a high since the phone call and am enjoying these days of just knwoing I've got as far as interview, and being able to fantasise about having the job in question. I am very excited. Although I know the pain of disapointment will be hardly bearable if it comes, for the timebeing I'm not letting that ruin it for me.

And remember the New deal thing I signed up to? And the people I met who were going to help me get a job? One of them being someone I had once turned down for interview? Well, she for one got slighty on my nerves. She phoned me up to ask me if I wanted to go on a three week "placement" with the royal mail doing some sorting room job. Well, no I don't. I see that as a kind of backward step and not a great signal to future employees that I feel myself capable of very much. Fortunately I didn't need to tell her that, I just told her I was recovering from an op and wasn't going anywhere for two weeks at least. (at the moment I can't fit into any pair of trousers because I'm so swollen - I am sincerely hoping that will change by next week's interview!)

I don't think she was that pleased I hadn't told her about the op. I had meant to e-mail her but trying to get rid of that god awful cold in time to have the op kept me away from the computer and so i never did.

Anyway, she said that a placement would be good for me because I could get a reference. Er, hello! I can get a reference from the company I worked for for six years, and worked for well. Thank you.

At the time I spoke to her I was still holding out for an interview for this job i've mentioned, so I didn't mention it to her. She's now on holiday for two weeks and so i don't have to ever mention it to her if it goes pair-shaped.

Actually, the other thing she did to annoy me was ask to see "copies" of the application forms I had filled in. It felt like my teacher asking for proof that I'd done some course work! Well she couldn't see "copies" of my application forms, one, because I had hardly filled any application forms in (didn't tell her that) and two, because I don't keep "copies". You fill these things out on paper. I do have some notes, but they are scribbled things only I can make sense of and that I keep in a folder and that I need to help me fill in other applications. I'm not going to send them off in the post to her.

Told her I'd consult her on future apps instead, and put it in such a way she couldn't argue.

I don't know yet when my interview will actually be, because they were going to be held on Thursday but "something has come up". I don't see this as a bad sign. Let's just say I can understand if my possible future boss is rather busy right now.

And on that cryptic note, I bid you goodnight.

Family have been great. I've had some lovely cards from all relatives, both birthday cards and Get Well Soon cards, with lovely heartfelt messages. Did me good. Mom and dad, as always, have been golden. Coming to see me before, during and after the hospital trip. I've spent some time being angry at my parents, and gave vent on this blog once or twice, but I'm kind of over it now. It's like I've had a black cloud following me and that black cloud kept raining on people around me. It was either people from my old job, or friends, or my poor mom.

But the cloud has lifted now. I feel friendly and happy towards all people again and can only conclude that the anxiety of the impending operation (I cried when they wheeled me in to have the anaesthetic) caused me stress which I then projected onto others.

Even my two hopeless old friends can't make rile me now. One of them ignored my e-mail about the impending op, bt was good enough to actually phone this week. Unfortunately I was alseep ad she hasn't phoned back. Nor responded to my latest e-mail to thank her for the call and say how I'm getting on, but that's J for you!

The other J textd me. Unfortunately on the wrong week. I e-mailed her the proper date and I got another text from her a couple of days after the op. I got an e-mail from her this week too, to say that she was sorry she hadn't been in touch (but she had???) but that she had family issues. I e-mailed her I was sorry to hear that, and offered myself to talk about it if she wanted to. I've not heard back.

I shake my head at them both, but find I'm not angry with them any more. They are who they are.

And besides, newer friends have textd and e-mailed and again have sent me some genuine heartfelt messages for my good health. I look forward to being well enough to see them all again. I am, indeed, a very lucky young woman.