Since the Endometriosis diagnosis only seemed to help my pelvic pain, not the back or abdominal pain that I was experiencing, I knew that it wasn't the "Monster", and I would have to keep on searching for answers.
I was getting pretty upset and angry that my doctor, friends and family thought I should be cured since the lapro surgery. My boyfriend at the time called me "a drag" when I didn't feel well enough to go out with friends.
One night I was feeling so well that we went with friends to a patio for a couple of drinks. I found out that beer really made my stomach worse, so I drank Rye most of the time. My doctor wouldn't give me medication for the pain, because he didn't think anything was wrong, so sometimes when the pain would get really bad I would drink just to dull it. That night it was really warm out and I was wearing a tank top. All of the sudden I felt really cold and then my teeth started to chatter. My boyfriend's parents were away for the weekend and I was planning on staying at his house. We were going to have some friends over for dinner the next night, and I wanted to feel well enough to do it, so I asked him if we could go home, because feeling chilled like I was I thought that I might be getting a cold.
When we got to his house, he made me a hot cup of tea and I got into bed. I fell asleep, and when I woke up it was 2:30 in the morning. I had to use the washroom so I got out of bed, but fell onto the carpet. I didn't have enough energy or strength to hold up my own body. His bedroom was in the basement, and he and his sister were listening to music quite loud upstairs. I tried to yell, but it came out like a whisper. I didn't know what was wrong and I didn't know what to do. I looked around and found one of his rugby cleats, and threw it up at the door. I landed only a few feet away from me. Then I grabbed a baseball and tried again. It hit the door and rolled back to me. I kept on doing this until I heard the volume of the music turn down, and threw it again. I heard his footsteps so I knew that he heard it, and when he saw me on the floor I told him I really needed to get to the bathroom.
He helped me get there, asking me what was going on. I told him that I had no idea. He had to help me with my p.j. bottoms, and just as I was going to sit down I told him I was going to throw up. He plopped me down and grabbed the garbage can, just as I started going out of both ends at the same time. When I was done I said that I really needed to go to the hospital. I was terrified, I thought I was going to die. He got me dressed, and off we went.
The Emergency Room was pretty empty at that time of the morning, and they brought me in right away. They took blood, and when the results came back the Dr. came in with two petri dishes. He showed me one with zig-zag lines of white stuff on a reddish-looking gel typed base, and told me that it was a positive result for an infection. Then he showed me the other one that had the white stuff covering the whole dish, top and all. He said that was from my blood and that I was going sceptic. He admitted me and put me on a whole slew of antibiotics to get rid of it. Since I was already in the hospital I asked if they could run some more tests to find out what my "Monster" was. I had 3 barium tests that all came back negative. Not only did everyone already think I was nuts, but all of these negative tests weren't helping my cause. Within a week I was released and sent on my way to continue living in pain.
