The sight of blood changed my mind. It wasn’t so much the sight, as it was the experience as a whole, the texture, the colour and the pain. As a little girl, I spent hours daydreaming of myself treating little children and seeing them smile again. Having been well acquainted with the pediatrician, it was only natural for me to follow in her footsteps.
My dreams trickled away, I can’t tell you the day the tap run dry, but I can tell you the days there was short supply. In all of the tales, my period is the constant. For someone who thought they could handle sick people and blood, I was awfully grossed out by my own blood, and worse still, it made me sick.
My energy was sapped, I’d writhe around in pain on the cold tiled floor and finally lie in a pool of my tears. My periods killed my dreams.
When I started working, it only got worse. The pain was disruptive and destructive. It came anytime and lasted as long as it wanted. My reproductive system dictated my lifestyle and work schedule. I had lovely employers who accommodated me and my body’s failures. My second place of work was not as flexible and the stress of the workplace took a toll on me. I cried everyday without fail, my body hurt, and my mind was never at rest, so I left. I left to rest and to start a life that could accommodate my life and my body’s quirks.
An endo-sister recently shared with me how she’d have made different choices in her career if she knew it was Endo. I completely understood where she was coming from. My endo journey has taught me that it is okay to start over, to learn a new skill, and to figure it out as you go. My greatest lesson is: It is good to plan, but when your plan is disrupted, adjust to what life hurls your way.