For the women in pain, the people who love them, and the healthcare professionals trying to help them.
Chronic. Endometriosis. Pain. For treatment, I tried almost everything-except for the medical psychic that one of my well-meaning docs recommended. I wanted a hysterectomy. When I couldn't find anyone to give one to me, I gave up and gave in to using bath towels and Vicodin to get through my monthly periods. This "worked" until my bowels protested and landed me in the urgent care. There, an urgently caring doctor said, "You can't continue to take opiates for your periods." I told her about trying to get a hysterectomy. She told me I could pay for one PRIVATELY (and also gave me a laxative bowel-fixer elixir). So, in early 2018, during my semester sabbatical from teaching, I dropped big bucks on a radical hysterectomy, which is not as cool as it sounds. Annoyed by my slow recovery, not finding any of my symptoms listed as alarming on my post-surgery discharge sheet, I packed my dog, my husband, and my medications for a road trip south in more ways than one. We left from Ithaca, New York and made our way to Athens, Georgia, our final destination, where I experienced a southern hospitalization and became an inpatient medical mystery.