Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Jruelle.
I sat on the crinkled white paper that covered the examination table thumbing through Pikz.
I needed something as a distraction. The sterile white walls always made me feel smaller somehow.
My hand was instinctively pressed against my lower stomach as if the familiar ache was asking to be addressed.
The nurse had already run through the checklist; weight, blood pressure, questions about pain—now I was just waiting to see the doctor.
I hated this part. The quiet before the door opened.
It gave me too much time for my mind to wander and linger on the things that were out of my control.
That was why it was imperative for me to busy myself.
A light knock on the door jarred me from my thoughts and had me quickly locking my phone and putting it away.
“Hello, hello.” Dr. Parker spoke and smiled as she entered the room. “How’ve you been feeling since the last time I saw you?” she asked me as she approached the stand on the far wall where the computer was.
“Same old.” I answered giving my usual shrug. “Some days are good, some are bad. Today’s the former.”
She nodded before what I assumed was typing in her credentials since she began pecking on the keyboard and clicking around on the screen with the mouse.
“Your pain logs show that you’ve marked more bad days this month compared to last. Tell me about that.”
“It’s not worse, not really. I just…” I paused briefly to find the best way to describe what I was feeling. “I noticed more. Maybe I’m finally paying attention instead of pushing through it.”
“Good. That’s what I want you to do—pay attention,” she nodded.
“Living with endometriosis has a way of making you normalize the pain, but what you experience is more severe. Let’s talk about your pain management plan.
You’re still on your hormonal therapy we started six months ago. How’s that going? Any side effects?”
“Nothing major.” I lifted one of my shoulders in a shrug. “Just the mood swings which my sister would probably say were worse than the pain.” I tried joking, but my voice fell flat. I could tell because she gave me a sympathetic nod.
“That’s not uncommon. We have other options, but that depends on what your priorities are—symptom control, fertility down the line, overall quality of life…”
The word fertility sat on my chest like a thousand-pound weight.
I tried maintaining my poker face, but my stomach twisted in knots.
I trained myself not to think about my future in terms of starting a family or, hell, getting married, but coming to these appointments always forced those thoughts to the front of my mind.
I adjusted a little on the paper covered table before responding, “I just… want to function. I don’t want to keep having to cancel plans, miss work… pretending all together.”
“Understandable,” she nodded. “We could try switching some of your medication or maybe add something for breakthrough pain. Another option could be laparoscopic surgery to clear the scar tissue, but that’s something we’d really need to talk through. It’s not a cure but it could help.”
My gaze dropped to my hands as I thought about what she’d just said.
Surgery.
I’d read stories, watched Cliqued Clips, reading and listening to whether or not the procedure was actually worth it, and the hope that sometimes felt like a trap.
I chewed on my bottom lip before looking at her and saying, “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask.” She smiled. “For now, let’s just adjust your prescription and schedule your follow-up. And Jru,” she reached to touch my hand. “Don’t downplay what you’re feeling. It’s valid. Okay.”
“Okay.” I answered lowly in fear that if I was too loud she’d hear my voice cracking.
She left the room, and the nurse came back to put in the new prescription as well as schedule my next appointment.
I left the office after that, feeling like I was finally breathing again once I was outside.
Being in the doctor’s office was suffocating because in there I faced a reality that I did my best to bury in the back of my mind.
I headed to the pharmacy to grab my prescription after leaving my appointment.
My dad’s car was already loaded with my suitcase, so after handling that I headed to the airport.
My drive was packed with overthinking and over analyzing.
My mother had begged me to stop tormenting myself and listening to all of the social media stories from women who had a journey similar to mine.
She meant well, I knew that, but she had no idea how I truly felt and what I was dealing with.
Sure, she didn’t have biological children, but that was by choice.
My journey was different because I’d always wanted a family, especially after not being wanted before they came into my life.
I just wanted to experience what it was to have a blood relative, other than Geri, love me unconditionally.
But that wasn’t quite my reality. Instead, I was cursed with a broken womb that resulted in a life filled with heartbreak, doctor’s appointments and “options.”
Another pill.
Another possible side effect.
Another round of options that felt more like band-aid’s instead of cures.
Another list of what ifs.
When I pulled up to the airport, I managed to push my thoughts to the back of my mind and prepared to enjoy my vacation because even though the situation nagged me, I refused to allow it to set the tone for my trip.
Vacation, then game plan for the future.
The goal was to literally reset. I’d finally broken free from the shackles of Brock’s ass, and now I wanted to reclaim my life. He never wanted to travel despite me telling him that it was one of the things I’d always wanted to do.
We traveled with our parents as kids, but not as much as I wanted to because they worked a lot to provide for us and themselves. Now that I didn’t have him holding me back, I was going to go where I wanted to as much as I wanted to.
I smiled to myself after parking at the airport, getting out of the car, and grabbing my suitcase from the back seat.
For once I wasn’t prioritizing anyone else’s feelings, thinking about pain or notes that I’d taken and whether I’d submitted them or not; if my man was cheating with my coworkers or his goons were lagging around outside of my job.
This week I was choosing me—completely. And when I got back, I’d choose me again, but this time I’d have a plan for how I was going to navigate forward in my life while continuing to prioritize me and my happiness above anyone else’s.
I hurried across my hotel room for my ringing phone and smiled when I saw that it was my dad calling. I went out on the balcony with my cup of coffee in my hand then took a seat on the chair that was out there before answering.
“Good morning, Daddy.”
“Hey, there sweet pea. How are you this morning.”
“I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m making it, baby. Your mama is in here driving me crazy.”
“What is she doing?”
“Dancing around the kitchen trying to make one of those doggone movies she saw on that Clap mess you and your sister have her hooked on.”
“It’s Cliqued, Daddy.” I laughed. “And they’re Clips.”
“Well, whatever it is, she’s always on it and working on my nerves.”
“Does she know you’re hiding somewhere in the house talking about her?”
“Shoot no, and you better not snitch on me,” he said and I laughed.
“What do you know about someone snitching, Daddy?”
“I know enough,” he chuckled. “Don’t forget that I was an educator for thirty some odd years. Plus, Geri keeps me young.”
Geri was always trying to teach our parents the new lingo, and she was the reason our mother even knew what Cliqued was. My dad didn’t really get involved in her shenanigans, but our mother was always with it. She literally thought she was Geri’s age.
“What do you have planned for today?”
It was my third day in Atlyn Bay, so I was going to get out and do something.
I spent my first day just relaxing and catching up on some much-needed rest. Day two I did a spa day, took a walk on the beach, as well as did some journaling.
I used to journal all the time as a little girl and had forgotten how much lighter I felt after writing, but I was going to be sure to make it a habit again.
“I have a few things on my agenda today. I’m going to do a cooking class around eleven, then go to a Zumba class on the beach this afternoon, and I’ll end the day with kayaking or a boat cruise.”
“Mm, I don’t know about that last one, sweetheart. I’m all for you cleansing your pallet, but you need to stay on that resort. People go missing on that water all the time.”
“I’ll be fine, Daddy.” I laughed.
He was literally always worrying. I felt a little bad knowing that he was probably losing sleep with me being gone, but he understood that I needed this time away.
“Is that Jru?” I heard my mom ask in the background before she came to the phone. “Hey, baby.”
“Hey, Mama.”
“What are you up to?”
“Just drinking my coffee before I go down to this cooking class.”
“A cooking class? For what? I taught you how to cook, heffa.”
“I know, Mama,” I laughed, “but it doesn’t hurt to learn new things. They’re doing a Caribbean class today.”
“I do love me some Caribbean food.”
“I know,” I grinned. “I’m going to learn to make some authentic food then come home and make it for you and Daddy.”
“You won’t hear any complaints from me.” I heard my dad yell in the background, and I laughed.
“You know that boy has been by here… twice,” my mom said.