When I was raising money for the Endometriosis Foundation of America during my training for the NYC Marathon, I started to get paranoid.
It’s never fun to ask people for money, even though it wasn’t going to go in my bank account. I started to wonder if my training for the marathon made it seem like having endo was no big deal. For people who don’t know me or another endo sister that well, they might not know what it means to have endo, because like many chronic illnesses, it is invisible.
In other words, if I broke my ankle and was walking around on crutches, any random stranger would be able to see that I was (literally) hobbled by an injury. But if I’m having killer cramps, or it feels like my ovary and fallopian tube is being tied into a knot, you can’t tell that by looking at me (unless you know my “I’m in pain” face intimately).
This blog is in a large part about making endo more “visible” for people who aren’t as well acquainted with it. In that vein, today I am writing about all the things I started doing in the last couple years (aside from surgery and painkillers) to try to manage my endo symptoms, preempt the pain, and reduce it when I do have a flareup.