TRUE STORY: “The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed”

Photo: 123rf.com

“My nightmare started when I was only 28. I had lower back pain that got more frequent and severe over time. At first, I thought I had hurt my back while carrying a heavy pail of water. I went to an orthopaedic surgeon, an acupuncturist and a masseuse for treatment. When nothing worked, it dawned on me that the pain might be linked to my menses because it worsened during my period.

I eventually went to see a gynaecologist. By then, two years had passed. That was when small blood-filled cysts were found outside my womb. The doctor told me I had endometriosis. The cysts were removed with a laser and I had monthly hormone jabs to reduce the chances of a relapse. For the next six months, I was period- and pain-free.

Unfortunately, my relief was shortlived. After I stopped the injections (they were not a long-term solution as they affect fertility), it was sheer agony whenever my period came. My flow was heavier (I’d have to change my pad every two hours) and my cramps were more painful. At their worst, I felt like someone was peeling off my skin.

If I got my menses over the weekend, I’d stay in bed and try to sleep the day away. Otherwise, I would still go to work (I almost never took medical leave) and eased the cramps by taking painkillers and wrapping a heating pad around my stomach. I also took naps at lunchtime. Thankfully, I was in a deskbound administrative job then (I later moved into human resource work) and I had an understanding boss and supportive colleagues. My boss lightened my workload and my colleagues helped by getting hot drinks for me.

I was desperate for a cure. For the next 15 years, I went to eight Western doctors and six traditional Chinese medicine (TCM) physicians in all. I took all sorts of herbal remedies, and popped countless painkillers. I even tried to change my lifestyle and diet, hoping that a strong immune system would help control the problem.

I went for twice-weekly aerobics sessions. I cut down on meat, dairy products and fried foods, and took health supplements like evening primrose oil and vitamin E. I even went for acupuncture every week for half a year, which offered temporary relief. But nothing really worked. And treatments were far from cheap. In all, I spent about $25,000 to $30,000 on consultations, medication and all my operations. I forked out an additional $4,000 to $5,000 yearly for herbs and health supplements.

Photo: 123rf.com

Thankfully, my salary doubled when I switched careers and became a financial adviser in 1999 when I was 37. I decided to go into financial planning because it allowed me to work from home and spend more time with my dad (my mum had passed away years before).

The illness took a toll on me socially and emotionally. I loved travelling but often had to miss out on trips with friends. I used to take trips at least twice a year to places like Europe and Australia. As my condition worsened, I travelled once a year at most and only to nearby countries like Malaysia.

My condition also affected friendships. In my 30s, I was in Chiang Mai in Thailand with a close friend when my period came early, during the last two days of our trip. I suggested that she head out without me because I was in pain. She threw a tantrum and said: ‘If you’re not going out, we’re both not going out!’ I felt bad so we went out in the end but I had to rest very often, something that frustrated her to no end. I was upset that she didn’t try to understand what I was going through. Things eventually blew over and we’re still good friends today.

My love life also suffered. When I was in my 30s, I was in my most serious relationship and almost got married. My then boyfriend of one and a half years was supportive and accepted that I would never be able to have a baby. We dated like any regular couple but we never had sex because being staunch Christians, we wanted to stay chaste till marriage.

Sadly, we never made it down the aisle and eventually broke up because of personality differences. I never dated anyone after that. I was afraid to explain to someone new that I wouldn’t be able to have children or that sex would be painful for me.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I developed pain even when I wasn’t having my period. This happened in my late 30s, and the pain was even more crippling than menstrual cramps. It felt as though I was being stabbed repeatedly in my lower abdomen. I suffered for about two weeks every month. Luckily, I worked flexible hours as a financial adviser, so I could rest whenever I needed to.

Photo: Pexels

When I was 40, I went for a myomectomy (to remove the growths around the uterus), but that didn’t end my suffering. So when I turned 45, I finally had my womb removed. By then, it had become severely deformed and I was left with little choice. I went for surgery with a heavy heart because I felt strongly that my womb was one of the things that made me a woman. I even had nightmares of my unborn babies after the surgery.

There were countless times when I felt very alone but my faith helped me remain strong. I met fellow sufferers when I joined the endometriosis support group at the KK Women’s and Children’s Hospital (KKH) in 2002. I got the most support from these women, probably because they could empathise with me.

Now, I still have mixed feelings about removing my womb. I don’t recommend the procedure unless there isn’t any other option. While the surgical wounds healed in six weeks, I endured strange “pulling” pains in my lower abdomen for more than a year after the surgery. The pain was so bad I would break out in cold sweat. But doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with me. The pain eventually went away.

Today, I am completely pain-free and live life to the fullest. I travel three to four times a year and recently went to Bali with my family. I still exercise regularly, hitting the gym at least once a week and enjoying weekly hour-long walks at places like the Botanic Gardens. There’s one thing I’d like women out there to remember: Good health is a blessing. Don’t take it for granted.”

Photo: 123rf.com

What is endometriosis?

The condition: Your womb lining grows outside the uterus – commonly on the ovaries, or in the bowel or bladder. This “rogue” womb lining appears as black or red spots. It thickens and bleeds according to your menstrual cycle but the blood can’t be shed, so what results is inflammation, thick scarring and cysts.

The symptoms: Chronic pelvic pain that occurs even when you’re not having your period. Seventy per cent of women who experience this debilitating pain suffer from endometriosis, says Dr Cynthia Kew, an associate consultant at KKH’s department of obstetrics and gynaecology. Other common signs are killer menstrual cramps, painful sex and heavy periods.

The treatment: Doctors battle it with anything from painkillers to surgery. Surgery can remove “rogue” womb lining, but endometrial cells can be very persistent and most of the time, they grow back. The only time it stops is when you hit menopause or have your womb removed.

Did you know?

Your regular Pap smear and pelvic ultrasound scan can’t detect endometriosis. The only way to diagnose it is through a minor day surgery procedure called laparoscopy, says Dr Cynthia Kew, an associate consultant at KKH’s department of obstetrics and gynaecology. This involves general anaesthesia and a camera exploring the inner abdomen and pelvis. Any endometrial growths found during this surgery can often be removed on the spot.

How do you know whether you’ll get it?

Genetics plays a part. If your mother or sister has or had it, your chances increase sevenfold. Started menstruating early and never had children? Then you’re also at higher risk.

Red alert

Studies suggest that up to 5 to 10 per cent of women with endometriosis end up with ovarian cancer, says Dr Kew.

It’s also a prime cause of infertility – up to half of all endometriosis sufferers can’t have kids. This is because the growths can block your fallopian tubes and cause problems with fertilisation or implantation, says Dr Kew. If you’re diagnosed early and the growths aren’t severe, you may still be able to conceive after surgery.

This story was orginally published in the October 2011 issue of Her World.

READ MORE:  and .