Tag / fight like a girl

by ChronicWriter

Out of the frying pan?

*DING DING DING* Round Two!

As a woman, I am no stranger to doing things I don’t want to do. But as a woman with endometriosis, I am also no stranger to pain or discomfort. So when I was told I needed to have monthly hormone injections again as part of my treatment to try and get this condition under control, I should accept it easily, shouldn’t I?

No.

There is not a single part of me that wants to accept this treatment. Not a single ounce of me that is OK with it.

In April, following 2 surgeries and almost a year after we decided to start trying to conceive, my consultant told me I should go back on the zoladex injections. I was devastated. It was proving too difficult to manage the pain and the ‘trying’ part of conception was near impossible with the levels of pain I was experiencing. I was in bed every day, my GP had introduced a pain patch and periods were horrendous. And the cherry on the cake? I’d still not managed to conceive.

But I was doing all the right things; I was taking the vitamins, I had the ovulation sticks and the fertility tracker and I was even taking my temperature to monitor my cycle. Still- nothing.

Reluctantly, I agreed to go back on the menopause-inducing drug.

“What’s it like? It’s like being impaled by a javelin and expected to be grateful for it!” 

The night before the first injection I sobbed. It was so unfair. The resentment welled up inside me until it spilled out in fat, hot tears. And those tears fell in abandon that first month. I have a hard time swallowing them, even now.

It wasn’t the pain of the injection, it wasn’t even the nasty side effects or the fact that it would 100% prevent conception. My resentment lied in the treatment itself. The fact that I was given no alternative; it was either this injection or agony every day. Rock meet hard place. Neither was what I wanted. I felt like an animal, backed into a corner. Have you ever had to do something everything inside you rejected?

I’ve never felt so out-of-control of my own life, of what happens to my body. And the doctors never ask what I want! Like this was the only option and I should be happy about it.

No.

And worse, when I spoke about it, about my feelings and how much I hated this treatment, some responses was one of indifference: “Well, which would you rather have? Agony, pain and being in bed every day or an injection and a few hot flashes?”

NEITHER! Is that too much to ask?

I know from the outside it looks like a ‘done-deal’, a no-brainer. I rebel against everything about it.

Today, I have had my 4th injection of this cycle. Last time, August, I upped my dose from a 3.75 (monthly) injection to a 10.8 (3-monthly) injection. The difference? It’s a much bigger needle, but one stab lasts 3 months. I decided this would be an ‘easier’ option when I started to have panic attacks prior to the injection due dates and appointments.

I am 7 months into this cycle. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in a long, long time, I feel exhausted; mentally and physically. The hot-flashes are enough to cause spontaneous combustion and my mood swings are enough to give me (and my husband) whiplash. I don’t even get any relief using HRT as I had to stop it after it caused chest pain and SVT.

But, I haven’t had a period in 7 months and the endo pain has abated. And I am so thankful of that.

 

 

 

 

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by ChronicWriter

Losing my MRI-virginity

In all the time that I have been trying to cope with the onslaught of Endometriosis and its painful symptoms, I had never had an MRI. Heard about them, wondered why I was never offered one, but never actually had one. I know, shocker.

Well that changed.

I was sent to see a bowel specialist at the request of my gynaecologist after he found my bowel had fused to my womb and my Pouch of Douglas (Google it) had been completely obliterated by adhesions.

My Bowel Guy ordered an MRI scan. He also put me on a list for a sigmoidoscopy – which is just code for Colonoscopy but they don’t want you to get all freaked out in the room, so you just freak out at home in front of your laptop screen.

Anyway- an MRI. I’d seen them on tele and I had spoken to people who have had them in the past. Isn’t it funny? As soon as you mention a medical thing, people (sometimes I don’t even know them!) are like “Yes, I had one of them for my hip/liver/pelvis” or  “it was no problem, it’ll be alright!” I know their hearts are in the right place and they have the best intentions but it can be incredibly overwhelming.

My MRI was scheduled for a Sunday evening at 19:40pm. I thought this was a bizarre time, on a Sunday. But as I was going to a city hospital I just assumed they ran things differently in the Big City.

As my husband and I meandered through the hospital corridors following (and sometimes losing) the blue line, we finally found the radiology department. The radiology suites were up a few flights upstairs; something I wasn’t quite prepared for and was glad for the long sit down when I reached the summit.

My letter said to report to the radiology reception desk when I arrived. So, there I stood, letter in hand, a blank expression on my face as I stared at a dark, closed reception area. The waiting area looked like it needed a lick of paint and boasted some pretty sad rows of seating, the plastic kind that you had at primary school.

Taking our cue from the only other couple in the waiting area, I gingerly took a seat next to my husband and listened to the random, mechanical sounds of a hospital. No one else in sight.

It was at this time, that my overactive imagination decided to kick in. Anxiety, nervous laughter. The image of that scene in Walking Dead or Resident Evil or Dawn of the Dead where the building is deserted and a lone zombie just strolls though. Attempting to lighten my mood; I made the mistake of voicing this and won a ton of laughs, and some bizarre looks, from the other 3 people in the room.

I’d only just finished telling my anecdote, when a very angry-looking feller walked through the doors. He looked flustered and outraged. Mr Cranky-Pants started to march up and down the corridor asking random people, orderlies, other patients, a cleaner, where the reception was! We didn’t see him again.

I was taken around to a second waiting area where I was asked to take a seat (again). I watched quietly as the other lady was taken into a cubicle, like the ones at the swimming baths, to discuss consent and instructions. She came out looking relieved, but no different. I began to relax, I mentally chastised myself for worrying.

A nice young woman in blue scrubs asked me to follow her to discuss the ‘procedure’. I began nodding along to her routine questions. I almost choked when she handed me a couple of hospital gowns (you know the ones- with a gap in the back!)

Cue ‘internal whinge-voice’: “BUT that other woman didn’t have to wear one!! I haven’t shaved my legs, the floor is cold and I’ll have to go sit back out in the waiting room in this hideous friggin’ gown!!”

As I undressed I began chucking my clothes in the locker, resounding bangs only served to fuel my darkening mood, gritting my teeth and muttering to myself; a few choice swear words. I then heard my husband say aloud “Someone doesn’t sound very happy…”

Eye-roll.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the cubicle door, owning it. “Why is it always me?” The other couple giggled and looked at each other, I answered only with a blushing smile.

When I eventually got into the prep room, the nurse was unable to get a cannula fitted as my veins collapse under pressure. I ended up with 5 holes as he tried again and again, stabbing me with the needle. He even filled up a rubber glove with warm water to try warming my arm to coax the vein to the surface of my skin! I ended up leaving with 5 holes; 3 in my left arm and 2 in my right!

The whole experience was eye opening, but not overly traumatising. It felt like I was laid in that machine for an age, inwardly rocking to the dum-dum-dum-dum. As I listened through the ear defenders I couldn’t help but notice the similarity between the mechanical noise and the beginning of a well-known Queen song.

I was just waiting for the “Flash ah-ahhhh…” to kick in… turn it up LOUD!

 

 

 

by ChronicWriter

Chronic Skincare

When it comes to skincare and beauty and the first thing that springs to mind at the mention of either; I worry that my chronic condition and the severe pain I go through will make me look older than I am.

I’m 26 and I already feel 86 – I don’t want to look it too!

Pain changes me. Not just physically or emotionally and not just on the inside. My family can see the pain in my body language, hidden in my sentences and my dull replies of “I’m fine.” But pain is also etched in my features, written all over my face and I’d hate it to become a permanent feature.

Women with Endometriosis fight a life-long battle, their bodies warring with its insides every day. It’s difficult and exhausting.

I decided that I wouldn’t battle with the outside of my body, I would protect it, nurture it. And so, I developed a skincare-selfcare routine.

My skincare:

  1. Cleansing – I use a foam wash which has Tea Tree in it, this help to prevent break outs. I don’t really have a favourite, I’m using one that was on offer in ASDA’s range. I massage this into my skin with a skin buffer that I ordered from WISH for £1! It exfoliates and because it is made of silicone, it’s real easy to keep clean. I also use a Micellar Water from Simple, usually in the morning or pre-workout (this makes sure I get a clean sweat, preventing break outs)

I love The Body Shops’ Camomile Sumptuous Cleansing Butter which is so luxurious and leaves my skin feeling baby-soft and healthy. I’ll use this after a heavy make-up day as it takes every scrap of make-up off. Although, I do tend to do a double cleanse when using this- I’ll wait 5/10 minutes after using the butter to let it soak into my skin slightly and then I’ll go in with Micellar water to remove any excess oil left over.

 

  1. Toning – I love love Boots Botanics Rosewater Toning Spritz! It’s in a spray bottle which is super practical and prevents unnecessary wastage. This product is really refreshing, cleanses impurities and smells amazing. *Boots have recently changed the packaging on this*

 

  1. Serum – I have fallen for The Body Shops’ Drops of Youth Concentrate serum. This goes beneath my moisturiser. It feels slightly tacky until it dries completely, but don’t worry, it feels smooth and is designed to balance imperfection for a more youthful looking skin.

 

  1. Day Moisturiser (make sure this has SPF!) – I switch between The Body Shops’ Aloe Day cream, which is great for sensitive skin, slightly cooling and Simples’ Kind to Skin + Protecting Moisture Cream. I love this during the Summer as it has SPF 30 and is also great because I have sensitive skin. This has vitamins B3 and E too. For night time, I reach for The Body Shops’ Aloe Night Cream feels luxurious and thick and soaks into the skin easily without leaving a greasy residue. It’s gentle enough for sensitive skin and I even use it on my neck and collar bone area.

**Breakouts – I am prone to hormonal breakouts (aren’t we all, ladies?) which I treat with Tea Tree Oil. Just put a drop of this on a cotton bud and apply to spots (don’t use fingers as it can transfer bacteria). I bought mine from Home Bargains for 99p and it works really well!**

 

Other bits & pieces:

  • Lip Scrub – SugarBaby Vita Lip which is a collection including a coconut infused Lip Balm and Lip Scrub. They both come with tube and applicators which is no-mess awesome and have high-performance ingredients including Sweet Almond Oil and Vitamin E.

The scrub is enriched with finely grated granulated sugar and blended with Grape Seed Oil and Organic coconut oil to gently eliminate dry, chapped skin.

The balm has cocoa butter, Shea butter which add softness and shine after exfoliating the lips.

The best thing about these products (not just that they work!) was the price, 49p in the Superdrug sale! This product has no artificial fragrances and is NOT TESTED ON ANIMALS!

  • Lip balm – Vaseline Aloe Vera, Nivea ‘A Kiss of Moisture’ or ‘Hydro Care‘ – these 3 are really handy just to stick in your bag.

 

  • Hand cream – I love Vaseline’s Healthy Hands Strong Nails. But I like to splurge on Champneys As Good As New Harmonious Hands. It’s got a lovely, floral fragrance which just smells like luxury and this lasts a while. This hand and nail cream also has SPF 15 which comes in handy if you’re driving and your hands are just right there on the wheel. We don’t need no sun spots

 

  • Face Masks – I use the 7th Heaven face mask sachets. They’re super convenient, especially for travelling! One packet can do 2 (maybe 3) masks – depending how liberal I use it. (These are around £1) I love the “Aloe Vera” Blemish Mud because of how soothing it feels but my skin feels really cleansed afterwards too! If you feel like a splurge, I reach for Lush BB Seaweed which is a little pricier but feels heavenly. (this needs to be stored in the fridge!)

I had an amazing customer service experience whilst shopping at The Body Shop, Doncaster Outlet. I think this was a big part of what made me fall in love with their products. The lovely sales consultant listened to what I wanted out of skincare and handpicked products to suit me. Great!

I feel like I should also say that I fell in love with skincare & beauty after watching a GlamLifeGuru YouTube video. Before, I was very lapse with skincare; some days I’d do all the steps, others I’d just neglect it altogether. But after watching Tati’s video on affordable skincare- she really inspired me to get my shit together! So… Thank you Tati xo

Click the links to watch.

 

 

*This is not a sponsored post, all products were purchased for myself and I have found them to be really effective*
by ChronicWriter

Too much

Last night, I took too much morphine. Irresponsible. Dangerous. Essential. This was not a ‘cry for help’. After all, I’ve been crying for help for 3 years now and it counts for nothing. I did not take an overdose and I don’t want to die.

But, the had pain enveloped me, dragging into my legs and causing my stomach to bloat unnaturally, like a balloon. And I was alone. I am alone with this pain. There are very few people that understand exactly how it bruises me, how it is killing me slowly, day-by-day. Plenty of people have seen me in pain, I am lucky to have such a supportive and caring family, but they don’t know.

I didn’t measure out 5ml of Oramorph. I just unscrewed the cap (which is a chore all on its own because of the child safety top!) and took a swig, a gulp.

As I laid in bed, praying for the pain to stop, praying for the endometriosis to just fade away, my body began to react to the medication, and as I realised what I’d done, how silly I’d been, I began to panic. But I was alone, I had to coach myself out of a panic attack and once again carry on despite of it all…

 

“Barely there-

Standing horizontally, shaking, on the end of my toes,

my face turned up to a starless sky, blocked by a veil of ceiling.

My limbs are heavier than steel,

uncooperative against the unyielding torrent that is flooding my body and my senses.

Almost too much-

My joints creak, protesting my fool’s attempt at slight movements, almost too painful to finish the motion,

and so I give up.

Closing my eyes while my thoughts swim and flail, incoherent,

unable to follow one caution on to the next.

I need to cling to someone stronger, warmer, better than me, I need to be held.

Holding my broken pieces, frayed edges, together.

As I lose control, each action has a little something extra, a little jig, like a tic I am unable to hide.

It is easier to lie still, taking shallow barely-there breaths.

There is what’s left of the strange tang in my mouth, the last testament of my weakness and evidence of my defeat against an unrelenting adversary;

Pain.

And Pain is lonely.”

alone

Clara Lieu Fine Art