One year ago yesterday I underwent surgery to remove a cyst from my ovary: a simple, routine one-hour procedure. However, it turned into an exploratory, diagnostic, and excision surgery for a chronic, incurable disease. A parasitic, weed-like infestation created by my own body, blood, and tissue: Endometriosis. The surgery ended up taking four hours. Yes, four grueling hours of worry for my Mom and Jim as they sat in the waiting room, completely in the dark of why my surgery was taking so long.

I’d had no idea what Endo was. But it had something to do with the severe pain I’d felt almost my entire life since my teenaged years. The pain I had grown accustomed to being told “It’s normal,” by friends, family, and the medical community. My surgeon showed me pictures of the procedure, pointed out the unnatural dots that speckled my insides and the web-like scarring which bound organs together, which he had done his best to remove. And said it will come back…

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