I just really wanted to use a Braveheart picture...

As you may recall, I marked last week as a high point in my treatment. My new medication was working, I was looking and feeling healthier, and I was showing progress in yoga and physical therapy. Well, as I've been learning  with endometriosis, it's great to celebrate these victories, but it's also important to not take the setbacks personally. Unfortunately, I took it very personally this week.

I've certainly hit a high point in my post-diagnosis life with endometriosis. Truthfully, this is probably the strongest and most healthy I've felt in years. That, plus the beautiful change in seasons, has made me feel terribly optimistic about my condition and life in general. A few things led to this point.

Having dealt with endometriosis symptoms for about 13 years and then being diagnosed in December, chronic illness has changed my perspective on a lot of things. This, coupled with my mom's cancer diagnosis being a strong influencing factor in my life, has really molded how I think, make decisions and my general outlook on life. Here are a few things I've learned:

After breaking up with my last doctor, I began the oh-so-fun process of finding a new ob/gyn. This involved a lot of intense googling until I found a local doctor who specializes in endometriosis. Righteous.

As I said in a previous blog post, they got me in right away, and so I spent a day off of work sitting in another waiting room. (That afternoon, I also had physical therapy, so it was a great day of being poked and prodded by doctors...)

While scrolling through Facebook and listening to the only two men in the waiting room talk about building stuff (super precious), my usual concerns came flooding back. What if this doctor tells me the same thing my old one did? What if this is the start of another round of going from office to office, begging someone to take my pain seriously? Or even better, what if by some shocking twist of fate I actually don't have endometriosis and I'm actually just crazy?

Yeah, you could say I was a little nervous...

I'm no stranger to therapy. Having dealt with bouts of depression and anxiety for a few years of my life, I'm not shy when it comes to admitting my weaknesses and opening up about my struggles.

However, physical therapy is a little different. Where mental health counseling often goes, "Let's come to a consensus about where you're struggling and learn how to manage that," physical therapy goes, "Yeah, you suck at this long list of things. Let's fix it."

After turning down Lupron, I decided to try PT to manage an ongoing pain in my left side (right where my endometriosis was found) and dyspareunia - an unfortunately common symptom of endo. But little did I know that I would be dealing with more than I expected.

I like to imagine this "Doctor" is my Old Doctor after we broke up...

"Doctor, it's not me. It's you."

That's what I would have said to my doctor if I could have spoken with him directly. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate everything he's done for me up until this point. But the operative words in that last sentence were "up until this point."

To be perfectly honest, I feel like I've been left high and dry with my recent endo diagnosis, ever since I refused to go on Lupron. Let's recap:

I'll try not to be too cheesy, but this is my first Valentine's Day as a married person and with (diagnosed) chronic illness. I don't really make a big deal out of the holiday, but over the past six months, I've been overwhelmed by the love Andrew has shown me just by being supportive and constant throughout my condition. 

So I thought I'd dedicate my blog post today to Andrew and his ever-present love and affection. Even if I'm sore and crabby and I don't feel like going anywhere, even if I've been in pajama pants with no makeup for three days, even if I drag him to another doctor appointment at another hospital, he never complains, never makes me feel inadequate and always has faith in me.