Please Pass the Pills

Eric came home from work today and found me lying on our bed in a fetal position, moaning and cursing the day I was born. Naturally, he thought I was dying. Then he saw the heating pad and the bottle of oxycodone and realized that I was just having period-induced cramps.

Three weeks ago I had a laparoscopy to investigate my innards, specifically the innards that are related to producing babies. My RE (Reproductve Endocrinologist, AKA Really Expensive fertility doctor) found endometriosis on my ovary, bowel, and the back of my uterus - in endometriosis land, what they call the cul-de-sac. Because of the torture I endure every month, I was not surprised with my diagnosis. In a way it helps to know what's causing the pain and to know that I am not a hypochondriac. There's a cause for what I feel. So I'm glad I have some sort of explanation.

Dr. B removed all the endo she could, using a laser (or possibly a light sabre), and also scraped some polyps out of my poor battered uterus. She warned me that my next period would be a doozy. She wasn't lying.

I've never been more grateful for percocet.