In a moment my life changed.

But really it had already been falling apart in fragments.

For the last four months, the pain in my lower abdomen has been unyielding. Unbearable. So bad that on occasion, when I can’t roll over, I require assistance to get out of bed.

I tried to ignore it. When my psychiatrist casually asked about my endometriosis, I told him the pain had returned. When I told him my plan was to hold off on going back to the doctor until I couldn’t take the pain, he quizzically looked at me. More honestly, he shot me a look that said, I know I’m your psychiatrist, but are you insane?

I made an appointment to see my gynecologist. I half expected her to tell me it was nothing, an overreaction. Worst-case scenario, I envisioned her telling me I needed another laparoscopy surgery, like the one I…