I wanted to document as much as I could on how I manage (or ignore) my endometriosis, and hopefully someone else can tell me what they do as well. I'm also documenting to make sure I do not forget what I have done and how things affected me. Given my chocolate cyst was not getting any smaller and engulfing the ovary it was decided that removing my right ovary and fallopian tube would be best for me. Surgery took place this past Thursday (01/14) and have been trying to recover as smoothly and quickly as possible. Everyone at the hospital was lovely, the nurses, the surgeon (and team), and the anesthesiologist. I initially thought that this surgery was going to just be like a quick touch up, I'd be able to get there and leave within 3 hours, didn't happen. I am not sure how long the procedure itself took but I know it was around almost noon when it did happen and I was fully aware around 3PM. Woke up to a blurred picture of a dark hairded nurse passing me a pill to take for the pain. It did not register until I tried to move. I felt like I had a hard time breathing because green phlem (I know how it feels) was stuck on my windpipe so my breathing was more like wheezing. I tried to cough but it was hell. I think it was around 6:30pm and the nurse was encouraging me to walk to the bathroom, I thought I was going to die. It was just the pain, I never exaggerate anything and this was just something I couldn't keep low key. My abs were on fire, my legs felt weak, I was burning up, I felt like throwing up, like passing out, dizzy the works. They managed to have me sit on the toilet but I was so close to just falling right then and there, I wanted to throw up and was handed the transh can so I would not throw up all over the floor but the pain of having to constrict my abdomen was too much for me to try. They let two other nurses come in and put me back and tell me if I would not be able to walk to the bathroom a catheter would be needed. I begged for another dose of percocet but the nurse was worried I would throw up since I thought it was too hard for me to eat. I took a percocet and I slept for a little until the strangest sensation woke me up, I looked at my mother fiercely as if I was waiting for something to happen and I unfortunately threw up on myself right then and there. They checked the incision sites and by then I had lost all shame for being seen naked by everyone including my mother (I was still too focused on pain). The oxycodoe wasn't working and then I figured it must have been the gas. Not sure by what time but it was clear I was not going to make it out of the hospital comfortably so, I was told I was going to stay. Transferring me to another bed was hell, I cried some more. I couldn't sleep because the pain was so bad, it was intermittent naps here and there and prayed for the 4 hours to fly by quickly so I could get my next dose of percocet. I managed to hug my mother in order to put pressure in my abs in order to cough and I did because again I was having a hard time breathing and this time inhaling was too diffiicult and it sounded like I was gasping for breath and having some sort of attack. Another humbling experience was me learning to use a bed pan and allowing my mother to change it, it alleviated the pressure a bit but not by much. The graveyard shift nurse was a little more stern with me, she was putting much more pressure on me to learn to get up. My mother and the nurse tried to get me up, I cried, I was expressing I wanted to give up, it's too much, I couldn't do it, she was patient though. I had no shame in hugging her in order to find some sort of grip strength to lift myself up. I thought I was dying again by the time I was at the toilet but I didn't, but I did pee. I threw up on again when I got back in bed and so I received something for my nausea. I needed a pan changed about 3 more times at night because of the IV. At one point I saw my mother passed out and I felt horrible so I cried as quietly as possible trying to get up but I did it, I effing did it, I went to the bathroom all by myself, my mother woke up to see me standing contemplating how to get back to bed, she was happy for me and helped me back into bed. Few hours later when the nurse came in midddle of the night to take my pressure I bragged about it and passed out again, she was proud. I got up once more to go to the bathroom and called it quits. By the afternoon I was forbidden to sleep anymore and stay in bed so I was able to walk max about 3 minutes. The phlem wasn't as bad anymore and the nausea was kept under control with medicine. I was told I could possibly leave that day. I wasn't able to eat much because a few bites of some things would already expand my tummy to a degree where I felt I was too full and couldn't keep going. I managed to go to the bathroom holding on to my IV bar easier now. By 6PM I was able to leave the hospital and was taken out by wheelchair (there was no way I could walk all the way out by myself) and I felt every litle bump, on my ride home too. Climbing the stairs made me cry even with help. Going on the bed made me cry cause this time these chairs do not incline to help you get on with ease. Sleeping was difficult but I was home.