Because the origin of the condition known as endometriosis is not clear, it is hard to say if I inherited it or not. But no matter how it came about, I had it. I love being able to put that sentence in the past tense! "I had it." What a beautiful phrase! And what's even more beautiful is that I survived it and beat it-- and so can you.
  This type of joy and optimism did not always surround me; as a matter of fact the majority of my life was overshadowed by pessimism. I was afraid that I would never know what was wrong with me and that I would have to suffer for the rest of my life.
   In a very real sense I was a prisoner-- in a dungeon so deep and well hidden that no one could even find me, let alone help me escape. It was a psychological battle just as much as a physical battle. So often I felt that I was the only player on my team and I had to play every position well enough not to be taken out of the game.
  The disease was so alien to doctors. Diagnosis was so difficult that sometimes I felt that the doctors and I were visitors in a foreign land, trying to learn the language of the people and not getting anywhere. I felt so frustrated and lonely at times that it almost seemed I could disappear from the face of the earth and no one would notice. I also had moments of utter confusion as I struggled to understand why I had to defend myself and try to prove that I was indeed ill.
   My earliest memory of the intense pain that accompanies this condition dates back to when I was around 13 or 14. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. As I finished what I went there to do and stood up to go back to bed, the entire room went black and I suddenly felt disconnected from my body -- the way you do when you're given laughing gas at the dentist's office. This sensation was followed by chills and profuse sweating.
   Suddenly, a blast of pain drove my legs out from under me. It felt like a 350 pound NFL lineman had punched me in the abdomen with all his might. I fell to the floor and curled into a fetal position, gasping for breath; the pain was that intense. I have no idea how long I laid there, but eventually the pain subsided and I was able to get to my feet and return to my bedroom.
  Curiously, once the pain left, it was as though it had never occurred. By the next morning it all seemed like just a bad dream; in fact, I almost wondered if it had even happened. I felt fine. And it would be quite a while before any more such "episodes" occurredÖ