Thursday, December 28, 2017

T-1 again: Something new on the horizon (or the blog where I tell you all the TMI)

So, it seems I only blog when something major medically is about to go down.

I have my own theories.  It might have something to do with my receiving the Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick.  It might just be how I cope with losing all control over my body and entrusting it to someone else to be healed.  Who knows.

My life has changed dramatically in the past almost three years (really, 1,003 days) since my surgery to repair my shoulder.  In addition to hitting a few serious PRs in the CrossFit gym after having my overhead restrictions lifted, I did a lot.  I finished out my time at the University of Dallas as a Captain on the women's lacrosse team despite never playing competitively before; more significant because I was a 30 year old graduate student.  I got selected and promoted to Major in the Marine Corps Reserve.  I executed a transfer to a new unit in Virginia Beach.  I started a new job in administration at a Catholic Parish in the DFW area and ended up moving to Grapevine to be closer to work.  I ended up being a behind the scenes board member for the New Wave Feminists.  It's been pretty good.  So much more than I could have ever imagined has happened to me since my bionic arm healed.

Most significantly, about six months after my surgery, I met Eric, the man that I am now engaged to.  We have been on a crazy ride together.  One that has involved completely breaking down and rediscovering what it means for me to be a Catholic woman about to enter into the vocation of marriage.  We have had to endure RCIA, the annulment process (pray for us), co-parenting his super cute almost-five year old son and more insanity than I could have ever imagined.  I have often remarked that rather than delay the onset of what we are going to encounter as a married couple, the Lord has decided to reveal everything about us to each other so when we say "I do" on the altar, there is no freaking way that we can say "I didn't know that about my spouse" down the line.

One of the things that we have had to endure as an engaged couple in the Diocese of Fort Worth who wishes to marry in the Church (not exactly an option for me to say no to unless I want to lose my job) is marriage preparation.  One component is learning how to do one of the "approved" Natural Family Planning (NFP) methods.  Before I walked into this, I knew just enough about NFP to be dangerous.  I had embraced the Catholic teaching that contraception is against Church teaching and I have not been on any form of it since 2010 when I came home to the Church.

My decision to stop contraception was a complicated one.  I plan on telling you all about it.  Literally.  Standby and don't be squeamish because stuff is about to get well... real... (unless you're a woman then hey, you honestly live this ish... and if you're not, you should pay attention anyway because you're surrounded by us)

Since I got my period at the age of thirteen, it has been a complete struggle to even survive my monthly cycle.  My second period hit me so hard I literally felt disabled from the pain.  I struggled to get out of bed and get active.  I no longer wanted to go to soccer practice (something I used to love) and I actually started to suck at soccer.  I bled so much I called my mom at work crying because I had no idea how to cope with the pain and I was literally frightened by what was happening as it went well beyond anything that anyone warned me in health class or what was in any little flowery books given to me to read to prepare for this "change" in my life.

Responses from women in my life hardly had any empathy.  I was told by my mother and others that I just had to accept it and figure out what coping mechanisms worked for me.  Being that I played boys ice hockey I hardly wanted to explain to my male coaches or my teammates why I would miss practice or a game.  It was from here that I first learned the lessons on how to "suck it up".  I figured out the concoction of caffeine, Advil, heating pads and sheer will that would get me through just about anything.  I also learned how to mask physical pain from just about anyone I interacted with.  Oddly enough, my hellish periods prepared me for the Marine Corps training more so than just about anything else.  With cramps so painful that I would literally feel like vomiting, a bruise or even damaged joints just didn't feel so bad after all.

Throughout middle school and high school, my period would hit out of nowhere with no seeming regularity.  Sometimes it wasn't so bad.  Sometimes it would just sneak up on me at the worst possible time.  There were no answers other than "gut it out".  Maybe take some Midol instead of Advil.  Try some tea that my stepmom used in Colombia.  Nothing made those first days any more bearable.  Nothing really stopped the mass of feelings that would catch me off-guard right before my period and add a big pile of gasoline and a match to my pile of teenage hormones.

In my private middle school in Seattle, we received a talk in my Human Relations class from a lady who worked at Planned Parenthood.  I was in seventh grade.  She told us about all kinds of contraceptive methods.  She made them normal and acceptable.  She told us about how they helped regulate periods.  She seemed to be a heck of a lot more straight-forward than anyone else that had presented information about the changes I was going through.  She seemed offer me my first opportunity of hope to escape the hell that hung over my head every time my cycle sneaked up on me.  This approach to "freedom" through contraception was also mutually embraced my friends at school who had gotten on contraception to regulate their periods and were reaping the ability to do pretty much whatever their boyfriends wanted without concern for getting pregnant (most of the time).

When I told my pediatrician about my periods my freshman year and the fact that I had gone about six months without one, she decided to subject me to my first pelvic examination that checked way more than I have ever had checked as an adult.  I was not mentally prepared but hey, I sucked it up.  She then proclaimed that I was "normal" and that she couldn't find anything wrong with me.  My periods continued to basically attack me at random for another two years.

When I was a junior in high school, I mustered the courage to ask my pediatrician about going on the pill.  I knew I wanted to play hockey in college and I was tired of the mood swings, the randomness of my cycle and the "freedom" it promised to give me just seemed so damn appealing.  They easily acquiesced to my request and I went on Zovia at the age of sixteen.  My periods weren't as bad after that, but my endurance on the ice playing hockey started to plummet.  My moods for the entire month became more erratic as opposed to just right before my period.  I started getting cravings for all kinds of carb-dense foods and I started shoveling down three bowls of cereal for a "snack" when I got home from school.  I ballooned from 130 to 156 pounds in a period of a few months.

It wasn't until that I started CrossFit in preparation for Marine Option ROTC after I graduated from high school that I started to make better health decisions, cleaned up my diet and started eating better.

I continued using the pill through part of my freshman year of college.  By then, I started to forget to take it everyday with classes and my crazy schedule.  After a few weeks of insane mood swings where I snapped at all of my friends for things that made absolutely no sense, I suddenly started to feel better.  My fitness levels exploded even after I recovered from Mononucleosis.  I was off of everything and back to periods that would try to kill me... but I was a bit better equipped on how to handle them.

My sophomore year, I started a new relationship and my friend suggested that I go to Planned Parenthood to get on another form of birth control.  I consented that it was probably the wise thing to do with my needing to stay on track for my military career.  I ended up on the Depo Provera shot for a period of about three years.  At first, I loved it because hey, NO PERIODS!!!!  The side effects eventually caught up to me.  The bone loss issues were real.  I suffered stress fractures in my feet at both OCS and TBS that I am pretty sure were directly linked to my using it for so long.

I switched to Nuva Ring after I got commissioned due to my concern over more stress fractures.  Being on this method gave me the same bizarre side effects as the pill.  My physical fitness suffered.  I was crazy moody and hungry for junk food all the time.  I am sure that messing with my hormones probably affected my judgement as a young lieutenant as I was constantly overwhelmed with feelings.

When I went to Afghanistan for my deployment in 2009, it wasn't an option to take Nuva Ring because well, refrigeration was a premium out there (you know, for actual medicine and well, blood and even food at times).  I was prescribed the pill again which I stopped taking on a whim as soon as I got out there.  My deployment was hard, but I remember having a lot more clear pattern of thinking out there than I did back in the states.

When I got back, I went back on Nuva Ring for a while and went right back to unpredictable mood swings, eating entire pizzas in one sitting and feeling generally uncomfortable at all times.  It was at that time I was invited back to the Church and I started my path back home.

Following my Confirmation in 2010, I decided to halt all contraception and change my life.  I have not been on any of that crap since then.  I instead went back to gutting through the awful periods that somehow got magically timed with all of my drill weekends as a reservist.  I was extra salty as a Company Commander (I apologize for anyone who has ever dealt with me in the SMCR).  Some drill weekends I could barely stand up I was so dizzy from pain.  In the meantime, I literally had to pretend that nothing was wrong with me.  I honestly have no idea how I did it.

This has literally been my life for the past seven years.  I go to work pretending that absolutely nothing is going on with me... while my insides are dying.  Each month, I drink about an entire gallon of coffee, down 800mg of Advil and plotting my escape to CrossFit to lift things so I can get some relief so I don't end up on my couch crying or murdering my poor fiance.  My judgement is waaaaaaay better.  I am much better shape.  I am fundamentally more sane. but I am basically functionally disabled for three days a month IF my cycle is normal at all (and sometimes I have gotten two periods a month).

Every time I have reached out to a regular doctor about my cycle, they have immediately suggested that I go on Birth Control or an IUD without bothering to check my hormones, have me do any charting or verifying what I am saying.  I have had doctors reject my religious convictions and just my personal decision to not put any foreign objects in my body or go back on the hormones that made my life hell for seven years.  These have been doctors in private practice (Hi!  I just met you, and this is crazy, let's get you an IUD, it's the solution maybe?), the VA (where I argued with the a doctor who I outweighed by 30 pounds for a full twenty minutes about my NOT wanting contraception (and the fact that I ate meat)...wasting the time of OTHER patients waiting on him), the military (here you go... take some of this, an anthrax vaccination, motrin and change your socks) and elsewhere.  The only doctor that had even entertained the IDEA that something might be wrong with my hormones was a Naturopath who was sweet woman who saw that I was stressed the heck out from my job and supported my decision to quit... but I don't think she could have really addressed what was going on with my lady parts.  But, she fully supported my decision to not take contraception so up to this point.. she was my favorite.

........aaaaaaaaaaaaand BACK TO MARRIAGE PREP.

Because I had already suspected that my reproductive system was a dumpster fire, I consulted with Eric and pretty much told him that we would go with Creighton for our NFP method of choice because we were getting graciously guided by the diocese (coughcoughcough*mandated*coughcoughcough) to pick one of them and that particular method was the method of choice for doctors who knew how to deal with insane situations like mine.

Being that Eric doesn't have a uterus and he defers to me in all of these decisions (probably not what they diocese intended) he graciously supported me in our decision and has lovingly accompanied me in meetings where we learn all about my cervical mucous and other things that make young engaged couples immediately regret their decision to attend the marriage orientation at their local Catholic parish.  We have actually become closer in this process in confronting that what is happening is a real medical condition that requires treatment and may affect our ability to get pregnant down the line and that I need him for support in this.

My path with Creighton has led me to Holly Baril, our NFP practitioner (https://intouchfertility.com/) who is basically my spirit animal.  She is not shocked when I curse and I suspect that she might even be amused by my antics.  She has even not yelled at me for putting WTF on my chart (basically a Cardinal sin of Creighton) when I have had a peak day on day 32 of my cycle (btw... that is NOT NORMAL).  Upon guiding me through a couple of months of charting she is the first person in my nineteen years of having periods to emphatically affirm that what I am going through is NOT normal and that I should see a Doctor who knows how to deal with my symptoms.

She referred me to the first GP I have ever trusted in my life, Dr. Heather Sheffield who did a full exam on me, confirmed that my cycles were not normal and referred me to Dr. Michael Jones a NaPro Doctor who is a OB/GYN and a specialist in treating endometriosis.  This whole process took a matter of weeks, not months or years.  Tomorrow is a big day.  Dr. Jones is going to make an attempt to confirm his presumption that he is "90% certain" that I have had endometriosis since I was a teenager and he is going to try to make it go away forever using laser beams.  He has been specially trained to ensure that there is minimal scarring and that the tissue does not grow back (which is a problem for many who go through this surgery with those who are not specialists).  This procedure will have me down for a couple of days, but back to recovery after that and back to normal in no time.

The reason I chose to vomit all this information onto a blog that I hardly go onto or use anymore is this:  I told a couple of acquaintances at the place I get a massage at once a week that I was getting surgery for suspected endometriosis.  These young women in their twenties then asked me "what is that?".  I explained that I have had horrific cramps since I was 13 and that because I was charting and having all kinds of irregular bleeding, I was able to figure out it wasn't normal and seek treatment.  Two out of these three girls immediately volunteer they are having similar problems and ask for the information for all of the practitioners that I listed in the previous paragraphs.  One of them even volunteered that one of her sisters has had multiple miscarriages and similar symptoms.

I find it appalling that I, as a random 32 year old non-medical professional am the one to break the news to them that this is abnormal and that they need to seek treatment.  I also find it frustrating that they cannot rely on their traditional practitioners to tell them anything other than they should go on birth control or take more pain medication.

Someone remarked to me that this week that I was "lucky" that I found out about NFP and that my practitioner referred me to specialists that could ensure that I actually had treatment for a condition that has been trying to cripple me for almost two decades of my thirty two years of existence.

It isn't luck that the only place that is actually invested in effectively treating common conditions that affect women's reproductive health is funded almost exclusively by the Roman Catholic Church.

With the popularization of birth control as being the solution to everything, our society is missing major elements of women's health.  Being that the Catholic Church is literally the last faith to not condone birth control, there is no other option for Catholics and that is where they are pushing their research.

I'm not even saying that as a "pro-Catholic" thing.  Pushing birth control to treat medical conditions without conducting proper examinations isn't liberation.  It’s misogyny.

It’s misogyny to continuously push mutilating women’s bodies and pushing poison to give temporary relief without ever making an effort to diagnose the underlying condition.  It is misogyny to refuse to address reproductive health issues until a woman is "ready to conceive" or to encourage sterilization of women of childbearing age with no proof that it will actually relieve the symptoms as is the case for women with endometriosis. 

It is misogyny that millions of dollars in funding and research are being pushed towards efforts that do NOT seek to research and address what causes these conditions to begin with.  It is horrific that our society doesn't allow women to be equal participants due to not directing research to address issues that affect millions of women who are essentially suffering in silence because they have no other option.

Conditions like endometriosis and poly-cystic ovarian syndrome that literally keep women bedridden and unable to have the same amount of productive workdays in the office.  That offer no way out for couples looking to get pregnant other than to throw thousands of dollars into IVF and clomid (not covered by insurance) because something is "wrong" with the woman rather than to treat the root cause.

It's no mistake that my mother and other influential women in my life had no advice other than "suck it up" for me when I was a teenager; its a product of literally having no other option.  It's no coincidence that every factor around me as a teenager was set up to push me towards contraceptive use; it gave me hope that I could actually be a functional human being each day of my cycle.  Quite frankly, I am not mad at those women.  I am frustrated with the system that makes it OK to tell a little girl that she should have to put up with it.

If it were not my obedience to the Catholic Church (which believe me, with the uncertainty of Eric's annulment process has not always been easy and feels like an obligation more than a choice at times), I would have had no clear path to treatment for my suspected conditions.

Eric and I may have been married down the line and trying to have kids and maybe not getting pregnant.  How many miscarriages would I have to go through before we realized something was wrong?  How much heartache would we have to endure?

I say this with righteous indignation because I know that if we have been blessed to have avoided it, other couples of many different faiths and beliefs are enduring it as we speak.  I know several in my personal life.  This isn't justice.  Quite frankly, this is bullshit.

It is bullshit that a woman cannot trust their doctor to give them a straight answer about what might be wrong with them.

Most young women (even those who are not Catholic) that I have talked to don’t want birth control.  They wish to use methods that do not affect their ability to train and are free of mutilation or chemicals.  They are open to natural methods. They want to work free of symptoms. They want equality in the work place. They want treatment for their medical conditions.  They want to master the power of their bodies and do incredible things in the gym, as workers, as mothers, as athletes, as empowered women.

The system is broken.  I will talk to anyone and everyone to ensure that they and the women in their lives that they love get the care that they deserve.

If I am blessed with a daughter, I will do everything in my power to ensure that she does not have to endure the hell that I have had to endure.

For this reason I have been given this cross.  I would appreciate your thoughts, prayers, well wishes, kombucha, whatever you feel like offering, going into tomorrow.

Thanks for putting up with my massive amount of TMI.  I love you all.  I am offering my suffering up for all of you.