The Difference Between Ignorance and Stupidity

The last time I really wrote something (other than my books from 2017), I mentioned that I had endometriosis. I gave the smallest bit of background for my story. I’m still finding out other bits of my story. For just a general overview, it was mainly the incoherent ramblings of going through Lupron. It think it is time to talk more about my story.

Because of my endometriosis, I have had to modify my diet. This means I can’t have caffeinated coffee, excessive sugar (though not that much of an issue anymore),  or fried things. Both of these things have made up a majority of my diet for years. I’ve drunk coffee for the longest time. I remember going to my grandparent’s house drinking a small cup of coffee a couple of times a year. I live in America, where fast food is plentiful and mostly fried. In 2016, I remember having a harder time eating and drinking on trips for (to me) no apparent reasons. I haven’t gone gluten-free or vegan because these things don’t really mess me up.

In high school, I lived in the South. For Northerners (or Westerners who don’t know), fried chicken is an acceptable meal for breakfast. Especially for school breakfasts. I ate fried chicken biscuits whenever they were available in high school (because the other options were shaky). During those days, I would have a horrible feeling in the bottom of my stomach. This is where the title of this blog comes from. I was ignorant that something was wrong in my body. Was I stupid? No. I wasn’t informed.

A major rabbit trail: Fast food does not cater to those with diets like mine (even though I know my “diet” isn’t that hard). I avoid red meat when I can in fast food in addition to the fried thing. I have a list on my phone that ranks the best options to the worst made at on of the latest encounters at bad fast food. It  factors things like: grilled chicken, side options, and drink options.

Anyway, back to ignorance vs. stupidity. On Sunday, I drank caffeinated coffee because the place I went ran out of decaf and it’s that or soda or bottled water, and I wanted to play a stupid games to win stupid prizes. It made me flashback to high school and eating those stupid fried chicken biscuits.  My first thought was honestly shame. I thought, How dare you eat those fried chicken biscuits. They were the source of so much pain. How stupid could you have been? I have the same thoughts when thinking about eating fried pickles or ordering any drink with any “processed” sugar. After I lecture myself for a long time in my own mind, I have to remind myself that I wasn’t being stupid. I was in the beginning stages of an awful disease that wasn’t going to manifest itself for another 10 years.

It’s Kind Of Like Voldemort

“Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.” -JK Rowling via Dumbledore

Three months ago, I went into surgery for ovarian cysts. I was diagnosed with them in March. However, I came out of surgery with no cysts but a diagnosis of endometriosis (from here on out referred as just endo). It took a few days to come down from the medication for me to fully sit up a computer to Google my new found buddy.

Until that day three months ago, I’d never heard of endo. It sounded like a disease that no one else had or was extremely rare. I was surprised to find out that 1 in 10 women had it. I’ve been quite open with my diagnosis of endo and am surprised how many women I know have it. Even the women who don’t have it know of at least one women who fights the fight. It’s little wonder when some women’s diseases are more unmentionable than other women’s disease. Endo is one of the harder ones to talk about to some people because even though I know I’m talking to adults, you never know how they are going to react.

For those who don’t know, a 18 minute overview:

A big barrier of thought was the incurable part. I’m currently taking Lupron which induces menopause which is a temporary fix. After I’m securely in menopause, I’m going to be taking hormones that keep my body in a state of menopause until the time has come for me to come out of menopause. This is one of the treatments talked about in the video. But, I know this won’t cure me. Even if I have to get a hysterectomy, it won’t cure me. The scariest part of this entire ordeal is the not knowing when I’m getting out of menopause. It’s also knowing that several of my dear friends will get pregnant during this hiatus in my uterus, and even though I love them dearly, it will still hurt.

Back to Voldemort for a second. The quote at the top of the page was one of the first coherent thoughts that I had after my surgery. It was my first rambling. The fear of naming the disease was never a thought in my mind. I wasn’t going to be held in fear of a name on a piece of paper. I’m not saying that I’m over the fear of all of the unknowns with this disease. They scare me. I have a list on my phone on why it’s okay at this moment for me to have this disease, just for the affirmation that at this point in my life I will survive. But even if that list needs to change, I will not let the name of endometriosis scare me.