After Surgery: Trying Everything, Still Hurting

It’s been a couple of months since my laparoscopy, and honestly, I don’t even know how to neatly sum up how it’s been. Because it hasn’t been neat. Or clear. Or uplifting with clarity in the way I expected it to be. 

I went into surgery hopeful — not expecting a miracle, but hoping for some clarity, some support, some kind of plan that felt positive. What I didn’t expect was how flat and unsupported I’d feel afterward. 

My post-op appointment with my gynaecologist was really disappointing. It left me feeling unheard and honestly a bit shut down. There wasn’t much discussion around options that felt right for me. Birth control and hormones were basically it. And right now, that’s just not where I’m at. Maybe that will change in the future, maybe it won’t — but at the moment, I don’t want that to be my focus. I wanted guidance, not pressure. I didn’t get that, I drove the hour home in tears thinking about what to do next. 

I turned online and into deep research and reading. 

Trying to Help Myself (Without Doing Everything at Once) 

After surgery, I went deep into learning how I could support myself better. That’s probably my ADHD kicking in — once I latch onto something, I hyper-fixate hard. Food became one of the biggest things. 

*Trigger warning* I’ve always struggled with eating. I’ve been fussy my whole life, have a very limited range of “safe” foods, and I had an eating disorder when I was younger. So changing my diet was not a small thing for me.  

I’m nowhere near perfect. But I am eating better where I can. I’m eating vegetables I’ve never eaten before in my life. I’m choosing better quality food when I can. I’m learning about inflammation and how food might be affecting my pain. And honestly, for someone who’s had such a hard relationship with food, that feels like progress. 

That said — it’s expensive. Organic food, better ingredients, less processed stuff — it adds up fast. With the cost of living and some big life things going on, there have been weeks where I’ve had to choose cheaper options. And that’s just reality. I think it’s important to say that, because “do this, do that” advice often ignores how inaccessible it can be. 

I’m doing what I can, when I can.  

Chemicals, Toxins, and the Guilt That Comes With Learning 

Another big area I focused on was chemical exposure — the everyday stuff we don’t really think about. Cleaning sprays, washing detergent, deodorant, skincare, makeup. Basically everything we use without questioning it. 

I never thought I’d be someone who cared about low-tox products. Not because I didn’t care about my health, but because I just didn’t know. I wasn’t educated on it. It wasn’t something that felt relevant to me — until suddenly it did.  

With that awareness came guilt. A lot of it. The did I do this to myself? And I’ve had to remind myself over and over that it is literally impossible to live a toxin-free life. We are exposed to chemicals constantly, just by existing in this world. All we can do is reduce what we can — not punish ourselves for what we didn’t know before. 

I’ve been slowly swapping things out as I run out, not all at once, because that would be unrealistic and way too expensive. I research products. I check ingredients. A friend put me onto the Yuka app, which lets you scan products and gives you a breakdown of how it scores against the impact on your health. It’s not perfect, but it helps. 

I also use ChatGPT — and I’m not ashamed to say that. I’ll literally ask things like “is this product low tox?” and then go deeper if something flags. It doesn’t replace proper research, but it makes information more accessible, especially when chemistry isn’t my background. It also gives me alternatives  

What’s been interesting is realising that some products I was already using were actually fine — I just didn’t know it. And while brands are becoming more conscious, there’s still a long way to go. I’m learning as I go, and sharing where I can. 

And Still… the Pain Hasn’t Shifted 

Here’s the hard part. 

Despite all of this — the food changes, the lifestyle shifts, the effort — I’m still in a lot of pain. 

The one noticeable change since surgery is that my cycle is now a regular 30 days. That feels huge to me, especially after having 40–50 day cycles for so long. I don’t fully understand how endometriosis, adenomyosis, and PCOS all interact in that sense, but it tells me something changed. The pain is still pretty full on. 

Over the last few months especially, I’ve really started to understand how much adenomyosis is impacting me. I’ve been so focused on endo that adeno almost got pushed aside. The heavy, heavy bleeding I experience is far more likely to be adeno or PCOS than endo. 

I had another iron infusion a couple of months ago to help manage the excessive menstrual bleeding. Honestly, I can never tell if they help or not. 

The week before my period is absolute hell. The pain is constant, deep, exhausting. I can’t exercise properly. I walk my dog every day and that’s about as much as my body can handle. I sleep with a heat pack every single night. I bought a TENS machine hoping it might help — but honestly, it doesn’t. I still use it sometimes because I like the sensation, but relief-wise? Nothing. 

And that’s the part that really messes with your head — doing everything you’re told might help, and still living in this much pain. 

Continuing Anyway 

There are days where it all feels pointless. Where it feels unfair. Where I wonder why I’m putting in so much effort just to still feel like this (I haven’t had a double cheeseburger from McDonalds in 2 years).  

But I don’t really have another option. I keep going because hopefully these changes are helping in ways I can’t see yet. Maybe they’re preventing things from being worse. Maybe future me will look back and be glad I didn’t give up, even when it felt useless. 

Living with endometriosis, PCOS and adenomyosis isn’t linear. It’s messy. It’s frustrating. And it can feel incredibly lonely. 

If you’re doing everything you can and still hurting — you’re not doing anything wrong. Healing doesn’t always show up the way we expect it to. 

Sometimes the only thing you can do is keep going, even when it feels like nothing is changing.