Everyone as well as myself was wondering when this would finally be over.
I was so happy that I was finally feeling good. I was finally healthy. We called the doctor and they told us not to worry because these were probably some smaller pieces of the kidney stones that were passing through. Thankfully, these pieces weren't as excruciating as they were in February.
The most pain I felt was pain over once again having to give up my teenage life. Once again good health was dangled in front of my face, but kept out of my reach. I did everything I knew to do so I could get better, but it wasn't enough.
We made the decision that no matter when I got better, I would continue the rest of the year on home bound schooling and return to school in the fall for my junior year. The choice was daunting, but necessary. Leaving school for the third time was almost as painful as the pain involved with my endometriosis and kidney stones.
I worked so hard for nothing and I was back in bed. Everyone was getting restless. Every day I tried my hardest to work towards good health, but my pain never went down. I got on a new hormone therapy-- third time is a charm, and worked my way back from square one... again.
Because everyone was restless, tensions were high. The stress kept me in pain. People walked out of my life, and looking back, I know now that it was for the best. It was painful then, and I finally got to the heartache that people my age go through, instead of the endometriosis pain that was not normal for a fifteen year old. It was so hard to work as hard as I could to get better for people, just for them to walk out of my life as soon as I showed any bit of improvement. It was so hard. But I'd been through enough, that I wasn't going to let anyone take away the future I had worked for. Through the pain, I had worked. Through the tears, I had worked. When there was no one by my side, I had worked. And I was not about to give up now.
Each day, I continued to grow stronger and stronger. I stopped taking pain medicine and started learning how to work through the pain. Each day, I started seeing health I had never seen before. Each day, I returned to the person I hadn't seen for a full year. Each day, I returned more and more to myself. And I knew now that this is the feeling I had worked so hard for. This moment right now was the reward I had suffered through a year for. I was finally better. And the day I realized just how healthy I was, was the happiest feeling I had ever felt in my short fifteen years of life.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
March
After a rough and painful month of passing kidney stones, I went back to school and began to get back into the swing of things. It was weird being in bed one day, and back in school the next. The pain went down over night and it was time to start getting my life back.
Although I was more than over-joyed to go back to school, it was such a familiar feeling. How many times would I have to come back to school before I got to stay there? But this time was different, this time just felt right.
I woke up every morning to go to school and although I had some sense of direction, I felt totally lost. For the past year, my only goal has been healing and returning back to good health. And now that I was healthy, I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. I was so excited to be back with the friends that I missed so much and I was so excited to be back to the routine I'd craved, but every day I didn't know what I wanted to do, my positive mood started going down hill.
I got up, went to school, got home, slept, and worked until I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer to catch up on my school work. Since I'd been in such severe pain, I wasn't getting much school work done, and since I came back to school so unexpectedly, I was so far behind the rest of my classes that there was no time to stop and complain. I could not stop now. I'd made it so far to come back. I worked through so much pain. This is all I wanted when I was sick, but all of the sudden I had no idea what I wanted any more.
Spring break was a blessing. I spent every day with my friends and spent some time being able to be healthy and happy with the people I had worked so hard to get better for. All of the sudden, something went wrong. I went from laughing and smiling and running and swimming with my best friends over spring break, to not being able to get out of bed. And I just didn't understand why.
Why this kept happening. What I did wrong. Why I couldn't just be healthy. Why no one else had to go through this.
And I think everyone around me was starting to wonder the same. Everyone else was getting just as tired of this as I was.
Although I was more than over-joyed to go back to school, it was such a familiar feeling. How many times would I have to come back to school before I got to stay there? But this time was different, this time just felt right.
I woke up every morning to go to school and although I had some sense of direction, I felt totally lost. For the past year, my only goal has been healing and returning back to good health. And now that I was healthy, I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. I was so excited to be back with the friends that I missed so much and I was so excited to be back to the routine I'd craved, but every day I didn't know what I wanted to do, my positive mood started going down hill.
I got up, went to school, got home, slept, and worked until I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer to catch up on my school work. Since I'd been in such severe pain, I wasn't getting much school work done, and since I came back to school so unexpectedly, I was so far behind the rest of my classes that there was no time to stop and complain. I could not stop now. I'd made it so far to come back. I worked through so much pain. This is all I wanted when I was sick, but all of the sudden I had no idea what I wanted any more.
Spring break was a blessing. I spent every day with my friends and spent some time being able to be healthy and happy with the people I had worked so hard to get better for. All of the sudden, something went wrong. I went from laughing and smiling and running and swimming with my best friends over spring break, to not being able to get out of bed. And I just didn't understand why.
Why this kept happening. What I did wrong. Why I couldn't just be healthy. Why no one else had to go through this.
And I think everyone around me was starting to wonder the same. Everyone else was getting just as tired of this as I was.
Friday, March 2, 2012
February Pictures
(First ambulence ride as well as our first snowfall of February. I was so sad to be laying, what felt like half-alive, in a hospital bed while having to watch everyones' cute pictures in the snow on Facebook, but I made it, and soon got to take cute snow pictures of my own- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(I didn't feel good and I was tired. Needless to say I was not a happy camper- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(Trying to keep myself happy and in good spirits through my CT scan- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(Five doses of morphine and about seven doses of anti-nausea medication had finally gotten to me- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(My first jumping picture in about a year. When I hit the ground, I cried tears of joys instead of tears of pain- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(My friends and I at our school's playoff basketball game- Sophomore year, February of 2011)
(My first day back at school with my best friend and our matching hoodies- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
February
February was a whirlwind of a month, where I was able to hit both my lowest and highest point in just 29 days, so adjust your reading glasses, because you're in for a crazy month of a story.
At the beginning of the month, the pain continued. However, I woke up early one Saturday morning with a severe pain in my lower right abdomen. I went to the bathroom, and immediately passed out. My mom helped me back to the bed, but it wasn't long before I was throwing up. I'd never had anything burst, but I couldn't help but thinking it was my appendix burst. As the throwing up continued, the pain worsened. I tried to get comfortable, but the pain remained the same. We tried the heating pad, but no matter what I did the throwing up and bursting pain continued. At a loss as of what to do, we began calling my "Recovery Team" and getting ready to go to the hospital. My mom helped me get out of the vomit-soaked clothes, and into some comfortable hospital clothes. I tried to walk to the bathroom, but only took a few steps before I collapsed and was vomitting all over the floor. I was scared. I was exhausted. But most of all I just wanted to know what was going on. My dad had to carry me out to the living room because I couldn't even walk just in time for the fire department and paramedics to show up, run an IV, and transport me to the hospital by ambulance.
The entire ride over, the paramedics caught my puke and pumped pain medication and anti nausea medication into my IV. Thank God, I had pulled myself together long enough to call Nick and tell him what was going on. My mom rode in the ambulance, my dad followed the ambulance, and luckily Zach was spending the night at a friend's house, so he didn't have to be caught up in more of my medical drama.
The only thing that kept me calm was listening to my mom's voice at the front of the car, talking to the paramedic that was driving. The pain was unbearable. The pain medication that the paramedic warned me "may or may not stop my heart" did nothing for me as my pain went from a 13 to a 15.
We got checked in at the hospital and set up with more pain medication and anti nausea medication while they ran tests on my blood. It was not even 7:00 and I was checked into the hospital until they figured out what was wrong with me. Thank goodness I had some distracting Playhouse Disney television shows to ease my mind.
Everyone was contacted, we all already had pictures up on Facebook, and everyone else was just now rolling out of bed. An MRI was ran and they gave me an inconclusive result that I was passing kidney stones. Because the contrast hadn't made everything completely clear, they didn't want to misdiagnose me. So they send me home with some anti nausea medication, pain killers, and an order to get an MRI done as a follow up.
My lowest point was February. It was so unfair that I had gone back to school and was getting better only to be put back in bed with worst pain than ever. I let myself fall and didn't even try to pick myself up. I was on a strict diet, in pain, and I felt my teenage years slipping away from me in pain. I didn't want to wake up another day that I had to be in pain. And all I could do was tell everyone I was okay, because they wouldn't understand. No one likes a complainer.
On Valentines day, I sat in a new doctor's office where it was confirmed I was passing kidney stones and for two more weeks, I laid in bed throwing up and passing out, until the toxic waste had cleared out of my body and when it had, I knew for sure.
For the first time in over ten months, I woke up with very little pain, and as I moved around the house and did a few chores, the pain came completely down until it had shrunk down to a 0 on a scale of 1-10.
For the first time in over ten months, I could be a teenager again. I could wake up without pain. I could walk without it hurting. I could take a car ride. I could do all the things I used to.
I knew I'd be behind, but on the following Monday, I decided for the third time I would take a try at school. This time was different. This time I knew I was going to get better. And I was going to be okay. I knew I was going to be behind the rest of my class and needed to do some catching up, but all I wanted was to be back to my normal, happy, healthy self and spend the day like everyone else does.
February was my highest point. Almost overnight, my health and my life had been returned to me. I was able to live my life and be a teenager, but it didn't come without a little work.
The night before I came back to school, I had the worst anxiety attack, I had ever had in my entire life. For the last ten months, my only goal was to get healthy and go back to school. I put all my energy into returning to my health and did everything I could. Home was my comfort zone. And now I was expected to go back to a place where I felt alone, where I was behind, and where I hadn't been for a year.
But I did it. On Monday, February 27th, of 2012, I went back to school for the third time, but it would be the last. I knew I was better this time. I knew I was going to be okay, and that's all that mattered to me. I would get caught up. My teachers would help me. All that mattered to me was that I was and would be okay.
I knew everything was going to be okay.
At the beginning of the month, the pain continued. However, I woke up early one Saturday morning with a severe pain in my lower right abdomen. I went to the bathroom, and immediately passed out. My mom helped me back to the bed, but it wasn't long before I was throwing up. I'd never had anything burst, but I couldn't help but thinking it was my appendix burst. As the throwing up continued, the pain worsened. I tried to get comfortable, but the pain remained the same. We tried the heating pad, but no matter what I did the throwing up and bursting pain continued. At a loss as of what to do, we began calling my "Recovery Team" and getting ready to go to the hospital. My mom helped me get out of the vomit-soaked clothes, and into some comfortable hospital clothes. I tried to walk to the bathroom, but only took a few steps before I collapsed and was vomitting all over the floor. I was scared. I was exhausted. But most of all I just wanted to know what was going on. My dad had to carry me out to the living room because I couldn't even walk just in time for the fire department and paramedics to show up, run an IV, and transport me to the hospital by ambulance.
The entire ride over, the paramedics caught my puke and pumped pain medication and anti nausea medication into my IV. Thank God, I had pulled myself together long enough to call Nick and tell him what was going on. My mom rode in the ambulance, my dad followed the ambulance, and luckily Zach was spending the night at a friend's house, so he didn't have to be caught up in more of my medical drama.
The only thing that kept me calm was listening to my mom's voice at the front of the car, talking to the paramedic that was driving. The pain was unbearable. The pain medication that the paramedic warned me "may or may not stop my heart" did nothing for me as my pain went from a 13 to a 15.
We got checked in at the hospital and set up with more pain medication and anti nausea medication while they ran tests on my blood. It was not even 7:00 and I was checked into the hospital until they figured out what was wrong with me. Thank goodness I had some distracting Playhouse Disney television shows to ease my mind.
Everyone was contacted, we all already had pictures up on Facebook, and everyone else was just now rolling out of bed. An MRI was ran and they gave me an inconclusive result that I was passing kidney stones. Because the contrast hadn't made everything completely clear, they didn't want to misdiagnose me. So they send me home with some anti nausea medication, pain killers, and an order to get an MRI done as a follow up.
My lowest point was February. It was so unfair that I had gone back to school and was getting better only to be put back in bed with worst pain than ever. I let myself fall and didn't even try to pick myself up. I was on a strict diet, in pain, and I felt my teenage years slipping away from me in pain. I didn't want to wake up another day that I had to be in pain. And all I could do was tell everyone I was okay, because they wouldn't understand. No one likes a complainer.
On Valentines day, I sat in a new doctor's office where it was confirmed I was passing kidney stones and for two more weeks, I laid in bed throwing up and passing out, until the toxic waste had cleared out of my body and when it had, I knew for sure.
For the first time in over ten months, I woke up with very little pain, and as I moved around the house and did a few chores, the pain came completely down until it had shrunk down to a 0 on a scale of 1-10.
For the first time in over ten months, I could be a teenager again. I could wake up without pain. I could walk without it hurting. I could take a car ride. I could do all the things I used to.
I knew I'd be behind, but on the following Monday, I decided for the third time I would take a try at school. This time was different. This time I knew I was going to get better. And I was going to be okay. I knew I was going to be behind the rest of my class and needed to do some catching up, but all I wanted was to be back to my normal, happy, healthy self and spend the day like everyone else does.
February was my highest point. Almost overnight, my health and my life had been returned to me. I was able to live my life and be a teenager, but it didn't come without a little work.
The night before I came back to school, I had the worst anxiety attack, I had ever had in my entire life. For the last ten months, my only goal was to get healthy and go back to school. I put all my energy into returning to my health and did everything I could. Home was my comfort zone. And now I was expected to go back to a place where I felt alone, where I was behind, and where I hadn't been for a year.
But I did it. On Monday, February 27th, of 2012, I went back to school for the third time, but it would be the last. I knew I was better this time. I knew I was going to be okay, and that's all that mattered to me. I would get caught up. My teachers would help me. All that mattered to me was that I was and would be okay.
I knew everything was going to be okay.
Monday, February 20, 2012
January Pictures
(New Year's Eve with me and all of my friends- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(In hyperbaric treatments, getting ready to get back to school- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(Me and Nick about to begin our first day of school, we were also celebrating our nine month anniversary, going back was a great present for us both- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(My first day of school was one of the roughest, I started out with a bright smile and hope and was soon back in bed with the worst pain and the worst migraine, but I was determined that it wouldn't get me down- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(The night we talked to a doctor who determined I might have a blood disorder that caused my endometriosis, I was back on my feet and full of hope- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(My beautiful support team helping me through a rough time- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
January
I spent the last day of 2011 with my friends, huddled around board games and food in my living room. I felt so good and so full of energy, but not quite back to normal. I knew on this day, that I would be going back to school in only four days and had been doing hyperbaric treatments as well as up to sixteen ounces of Asea every day.
I knew I would be going back, but I wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. Not only did I want to surprise everyone, but in case I wasn't able to actually make it back, I didn't want to let anyone down like I had so many times before now.
The first day of school was nauseating. In a good way. Mostly. I was beyond stressed out and cried when it was time for me to exit my comfort zone and enter school. I felt cold stares as I walked down the hallway, but all the warm smiles and hugs from my friends and people who followed my story on Facebook made it all worth it.
Every day after school I came home and collapsed into the couch, both mentally and physically exhausted. Going back to school was harder than I thought. I'd done all that I could, but I was beginning to see that, that wasn't going to be enough.
I started getting to school later, going for a half day, or even not coming at all. I got a fourth dose of my "menopause shot" and that was it. I was in so much pain, I never came back to school at all. How was it that I had made so much progress only to completely fall back to where I was?
I was getting beyond tired of this.
After several treatment appointments and no help, I went back to my OBGYN, who was turning into my worst nightmare.
Once again, she stared at me with wide, unbelieving eyes and shook her head. She told me that she had never seen this pain and didn't know what to do at this point. Because we had gone and attempted "alternative" treatments, she retaliated by refusing to treat us unless we went to see a pain management doctor, who would pump more fatal drugs into my body.
Once again, we were alone in this, however the team of support I had acquired, assured me that my battle was not over and I would once again be back to health, like I was when I started school.
I did everything I could to avoid it, and yet I was still tortured with this pain. It was beyond unfair, but it was time I put all of my hurt and frustrations into a creative form that wouldn't hurt me, but instead keep me in good spirits.
Thus began my blog.
I knew I would be going back, but I wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. Not only did I want to surprise everyone, but in case I wasn't able to actually make it back, I didn't want to let anyone down like I had so many times before now.
The first day of school was nauseating. In a good way. Mostly. I was beyond stressed out and cried when it was time for me to exit my comfort zone and enter school. I felt cold stares as I walked down the hallway, but all the warm smiles and hugs from my friends and people who followed my story on Facebook made it all worth it.
Every day after school I came home and collapsed into the couch, both mentally and physically exhausted. Going back to school was harder than I thought. I'd done all that I could, but I was beginning to see that, that wasn't going to be enough.
I started getting to school later, going for a half day, or even not coming at all. I got a fourth dose of my "menopause shot" and that was it. I was in so much pain, I never came back to school at all. How was it that I had made so much progress only to completely fall back to where I was?
I was getting beyond tired of this.
After several treatment appointments and no help, I went back to my OBGYN, who was turning into my worst nightmare.
Once again, she stared at me with wide, unbelieving eyes and shook her head. She told me that she had never seen this pain and didn't know what to do at this point. Because we had gone and attempted "alternative" treatments, she retaliated by refusing to treat us unless we went to see a pain management doctor, who would pump more fatal drugs into my body.
Once again, we were alone in this, however the team of support I had acquired, assured me that my battle was not over and I would once again be back to health, like I was when I started school.
I did everything I could to avoid it, and yet I was still tortured with this pain. It was beyond unfair, but it was time I put all of my hurt and frustrations into a creative form that wouldn't hurt me, but instead keep me in good spirits.
Thus began my blog.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
December Pictures
(A collage showing the hyperbaric chamber, me inside, and my view from inside at my first hyperbaric treatment- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(Nick and I on our first walk around the pond in the snow at the Broadmoor- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(My mom and I posed in front of the Christmas trees at the Broadmoor after an amazing night out- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(One of my favorite pictures, leaving the Broadmoor after an amazing night- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(Opening presents with the Nick and the family! Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(Playah grinning from ear to ear while opening presents- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(My boys winding down Christmas day with some snow skating- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
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