When you’re an insomniac, the last thing you want is someone waking you up once the dark veil of Nyx has blotted out your consciousness. But alas, these nurses had an agenda.

I had to drink an entire bottle of water and go to the bathroom before I could be released. Done and done. Then I was given a Lupron shot in my bum (those don’t hurt at all, btw!) and was told I would have one every month until my next surgery. My mind was so foggy during all this activity however, and I don’t remember anything I was told about what would happen next. In the end, I would have chosen the Lupron treatment anyway, but it’s kind of alarming that this was given to me without my consent.

The Lupron Depot shot can be daily or once a month. It’s a common treatment for women with endo and it puts your body in a low estrogen state. NOT early menopause. They are very specific about this verbiage. The shots stop the endo from growing/spreading, and in some cases it may actually shrink the tissue and make it easier to remove during surgery. Okay. Count me in.

But before your body slips into this low estrogen state, you will first experience a surge of estrogen for 1-2 weeks that is very much like having a serious PMS episode. So, for 2 weeks out of the month my hormones are high and crazy and I’m crying to Katy Perry songs because “I’m just so proud of her” (we’ve never met) and then the other 2 weeks I’m coasting along with the emotional resilience of a robot. Nothing bothers me. It’s very tumultuous and tiring.

Now let’s talk about the gas. No, not the flatulence, the GAS they fill your body cavity with in order to poke those laparoscopes around with ease. No one tells you that this is THE worst part of having a laparoscopy. Once the Dilaudid wore off a bit, it felt like a knife was lodged in my diaphragm and any tiny movement, or breathing, or just being vertical, made the knife twist violently under my sternum. It was unbearable. And it made me angry because nothing makes it feel better. I couldn’t lie on my side cause that felt like my ribs were crushing each other. Lying on my stomach was out of the question. Sitting up – forget about it.

The only thing I could do was lie on my back and not move. Literally. I was a statue. I couldn’t sleep at all post-surgery, and my body was pretty agitated coming off of general anesthesia, so I watched around 15 hours of 30 Rock on Netflix because it would keep playing episode after episode without me having to press anything. I put off going to the bathroom until the last possible moment, and the entire process sounded like a Lamaze class because instead of screaming, I was trying to breathe through it.

Later I talked to my aunt who is a nurse anesthetist, and she said the only relief she has found over the years is to lie completely flat on your back with a pillow elevating your hips slightly, and your head slightly lower than your hips. Other than that, you just gotta wait until your body absorbs it, and my body decided to take its sweet ass time. Just another way it can f*ck me over, I suppose, for neglecting it for so long. Fair play, body.