The Beginning

The beginning is often different for two people who may feel as if they are on the same journey. My voyage on this compelling trip began during the infancy of my courtship with Melissa. I served in the medical field while in the Navy and one day received a phone call from my then friend and next-door neighbor asking if I could bring her a heating pad home from work. Courtship being a game of chance and opportunity, I informed my supervisor that I had an emergency, grabbed a heating pad, a few pain meds, and raced home. My friend needed me and I needed an opportunity to escape the stifling confinement of the friend zone. I surmised that showing Melissa that I could be a compassionate partner during her time of illness was my chance.

Yes, I used my wife’s illness as a way “in” and I have no regrets. At the time, she explained that for most of her life she suffered from painful periods that could be incapacitating. She told me that she had learned to just live with the pain and endure. I wasn’t very familiar with the female anatomy so I faked it. I told her that this was common and that a heating pad and an anti-inflammatory would help. She accepted my treatment plan and I rushed to my house (next door) and consulted the Internet with her symptoms. Luckily, I was pretty close. There was no mention of Endometriosis just a condition called, dysmenorrhea or painful menstrual period. For about a year, I ensured to make myself available monthly to offer my sympathy and support during the dysmenorrhea I diagnosed. I was proud of myself because I had impressed the woman I knew then I would eventually marry and was even making headway in finding an expeditious egress from the friend zone.

The ibuprofen isn’t working!

These were the words she exclaimed as we rush to the emergency room. The hand donning her wedding ring was clutching her stomach as she winced in pain. I was panicking. I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t understand why a warm bath and heating pad wasn’t working. Nothing was working and now I found myself pacing in an emergency room wanting desperately for someone to give me answers. Luckily, on duty was a sympathetic doctor who wasn’t content with just writing a script and giving my wife a day off in bed.

How long have you had these symptoms?

“For as long as I can remember,” my wife replied to the doctor’s question. I turned and looked at her. My beautiful wife’s green eyes were tinted the same cardinal color as the bird of the same name. She looked tired as she answered each question wanting nothing more than to receive answers rather than give them. Next was the equally emotional and physical discomfort of a pelvic exam. She squeezed my hand as the doctor walked her through each step, pushing and prodding. My wife accepted the pain hoping that it was the penance for a cause.

Then it came, a word we had not heard yet, Endometriosis. The word seemed invasive and obtuse. It had no meaning and gave no insight of what was to follow. However, with all that it wasn’t… it was a reason. It was an explanation. It was something other than, “you’ll get over it.” It had more power than “just take these and get some rest.” It was proof that my wife was suffering from something other than an inability to cope.

We were told that tests would follow and that the road ahead would be long and laborious. We were told that Endometriosis had no cure, just a series of possible treatments. The treatments would generate more symptoms and even more questions.

We found ourselves at a stand still after so much progress. We found that though we had been traveling different directions at different speeds over very different distances we somehow met each other at the same place… the beginning.