Help Jess Recover From Major Endometriosis Surgery

Good news first! After a decade of crippling pelvic pain, joint aches, strange stiffness in my abdominal muscles, and fatigue, I've finally lined up a surgeon with 25 years of experience who can perform the excision surgery I need to have my current cantaloupe-sized tumor from stage 4 endometriosis removed. (Some of you may remember the bowling ball-sized tumor that was removed a year-and-a-half ago. Yes, it's back with seven months of growth already.) I feel exalted and so grateful to have found this qualified specialist just two-ish hours from where I live.

The bad news: Because of this operation, I'm going to lose my job right before I go back to college, this time as a transfer student at the University of Oregon. All of my reproductive organs are webbed together to the other organs in my pelvis and to my abdominal wall by disease and scar tissue, making this surgery — my second in a year-and-a-half — especially complicated. I will likely have to have part of my bowel resected, as well as have my uterus removed at the age of 25. My recovery time is estimated to be a minimum of 8 weeks, during which time I will need a lot of support from my community.

My ask/humble request: I made it through the red tape to get insurance to cover the main costs of surgery, but I'm going to need help with my living expenses until I can start receiving student loans. Living in the PNW isn't cheap, as many of you know, especially for a young woman without any family support. College isn't cheap either, and after years of struggling and having to drop classes because I could barely eat or breathe for years at a time, I'd really like to give my best shot at FINALLY finishing a bachelor’s degree this fall by being as healthy as possible (In case you're interested, my longer endometriosis and college journey is shared below.) I am humbly asking for enough money to cover living expenses for 3 months. However, I am well aware that the pandemic and its many consequences have left us all extra burdened; if you are unable to donate financially but still want to help, please reach out if you’d be willing to walk my dog, Star, participate in a food train, or offer any other kindness that comes to mind.

Thank you for any support you are able to provide! If the global and national trauma we all suffered through in 2020 taught me anything, it is that I have not failed. Delays and unexpected obstacles outside of my control do not define my worth or my potential. I do. While it is difficult to admit to myself, let alone all of you reading this plea for help, I am proud of my life and my accomplishments, despite – or maybe because of my personal hardships. Allow me the opportunity to prove that I can do this

— with a little help from you.

The truth is, you know, I would be nothing without everyone.

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My journey in higher education has been far from linear; I faced many setbacks and often I did not overcome them. There is a part of me that feels a deep shame in having to divulge any “special circumstances” to satisfactorily explain the times I have not succeeded because if life had gone like I had hoped and intended, my academic performance would speak for itself. But, it doesn’t.

For a whole decade I struggled with crippling pelvic pain, joint aches, strange stiffness in my abdominal muscles, and fatigue. As a teenager, my family couldn’t afford health insurance, so there was no possibility to look into it — even if there had been the option, I didn’t realize yet that what I was experiencing wasn’t normal. When I left my unsafe home with my parents and moved to Iowa to live with my grandmother, I was finally able to see a doctor about my symptoms. My pain had been intensifying, but I was dismissed and told to take an ibuprofen. In 2014, I took myself to the emergency room for my pain, afraid something was terribly wrong. Again, I was dismissed. I was only 18. I started to believe nothing was wrong with me at all, that the answer simply was that I am not capable of the work I had set out to do. That false belief has held me back from success, too.

Over the next few years, I attempted to enroll in classes many times but had trouble keeping up with my school work, a full time job to support myself, and the days and days of incapacitating pain I was in every month. 2019 was the peak. In March of that year, I experienced a pain episode that lasted two full weeks, during which I couldn’t stand up straight, breathe in fully, or feed myself, let alone make it to my classes or my job.

Throughout the rest of 2019, I was in pain every single moment of my life. For nine months, I averaged no more than 3 hours of sleep a night, passed out from the pain regularly, and was consuming upwards of 2400 mg of ibuprofen a day trying to get by. I changed my diet. I tried yoga and CBD. Nothing helped enough to make a significant dent in my suffering. I was miserable. I dropped or took an incomplete in at least one class every term, all while a part of me believed it was because I wasn’t good enough for what I dreamed of.

Finally, in January 2020, after three weeks of eating less than a meal a day, and seriously contemplating ending my life, I went to the emergency room once again, where doctors discovered a bowling-ball-sized tumor in my abdomen. After an emergency operation and a biopsy by an oncologist to rule out the possibility of ovarian cancer, I was finally diagnosed with stage 4 endometriosis. All of my reproductive organs are webbed together, to the other organs in my pelvis, and to my abdominal wall by disease and scar tissue. This is a disease that will never kill me, but that has grave implications for my quality of life, no cure, and laughable treatments.

As I publish this fundraiser, it has been 7 months since the discovery of another tumor, currently 8cm in diameter, that is impacting my ability to function every day again. However, the diagnosis has allowed me to accept a harsh, yet relieving reality: I am not inferior and my suffering has not been my fault. I am disabled. This realization forced me to reevaluate my priorities and, more importantly, allowed me space to offer myself the grace and forgiveness to find strategies that help me succeed despite my disease. I’ve cultivated new ways to manage my pain and fatigue, found a new sense of agency to really chase my dream of finishing my bachelor’s degree.

The gold standard treatment for my disease is excision surgery by a qualified specialist, few of whom exist, as research into endometriosis has for decades been underfunded and ignored. Luckily, I have found a surgeon with 25 years of experience and have won the battle with insurance to have her services covered. My operation is scheduled for July 22nd, and I couldn’t be more ready for the rest of my life.