Before the surgery
Before the surgery, I was completely exhausted.
Physically I felt unwell, but mentally even worse. I had no idea whether the surgery would help at all. I didn’t even know for sure what was causing all my symptoms. My life had essentially been on pause for months.
It was frustrating and infuriating.
I was angry at my body, at the situation, and at the disease itself. I couldn’t do anything – not train, not live a normal daily life. Everything felt like it was happening with the handbrake on.
This is what an invisible chronic illness looks like. One that can take away your ability to function, yet still isn’t always taken seriously enough.
Read also: Endometriosis recurrence 2026
Read also: My first endometriosis surgery
Surgery without certainty
I have been diagnosed with severe endometriosis. Still, at this point, surgery wasn’t a guaranteed solution – it was more of an informed guess based on my symptoms.
I was dealing with constant nausea, a lingering sick feeling, and gagging.
The changes seen in imaging were small – the kind that supposedly “shouldn’t” cause symptoms this severe. Multiple specialists reassured me that all my test results were completely normal, and that there was nothing wrong.
Reality felt very different.
For eight months, my body hadn’t functioned normally. My neurological symptoms were getting worse, and no clear explanation was found.
In the operating room: worse than expected
The surgery was supposed to take two hours.
It took four. The situation was worse than expected.
They removed endometriosis tissue from both ovaries and from behind the uterus, where it was close to nerves. In addition, adenomyosis was removed from inside the uterus – tissue growing within the uterine muscle, which can cause symptoms very similar to and often just as severe as endometriosis.
Waking up from surgery was intense.
The pain was stronger than I expected. I remember trying to scream, but no sound came out. The first 24 hours were a blur due to strong medication. I slept a lot, and the medication caused restlessness and nightmares.
Moving was painful. I had a fever, and my condition was closely monitored. On the third day, the fever temporarily dropped, and I was discharged.
Fast physical recovery
Physically, recovery started surprisingly quickly.
The first three days were the most painful, and after that things started improving. The first week still went mostly in a haze of sleep. Around ten days post-surgery, I already felt almost normal again – even energetic. I was able to start working on my laptop.
The post-surgery crash
I had never experienced anything like it before, and no one had warned me.
Doctors don’t really talk about how strongly depression and anxiety can hit in connection with endometriosis and surgery.
After reading more and going through others’ experiences, I started to understand that my body and mind had gone through an extreme amount of stress:
- hormonal medication before surgery and its abrupt stop
- prolonged anesthesia
- strong pain medication and coming off it
- chronic inflammation and months of pain
- nervous system overload
- physical trauma and surgical wounds
A few days after surgery, once the strongest medications were out of my system, the nausea came back.
I found myself lying in bed for hours again, waiting for it to pass. The same feeling as before the surgery – but now without a clear explanation.
There was a suspicion that the endometriosis affecting the nerves could be part of the cause. Long-term pain and inflammation can sensitize the nervous system, making the body send incorrect signals. But there are no clear answers.
That might be the hardest part to deal with – having to wait and hope for the best without certainty.
Life goes on – for everyone else
At the same time, the world around you keeps moving.
People are living, training, making plans, moving forward. And you’re lying still, just trying to get through one day at a time.
The hardest part of this illness isn’t just the pain.
It’s how completely it takes over your body – and how alone you ultimately feel in it.
I’ve lost months of my life. Watched my physical condition collapse, without being able to do anything about it.
It brings up a lot of emotions.
Hope, even without certainty
And still, in the middle of all this, there is hope.
The surgery was the right decision. I can already feel that the everyday pain has decreased. It wasn’t something I used to question much before – I had simply gotten used to it and assumed it was normal. Pain from vibration and pain during intercourse, for example, had always been part of my life, but these are things that surgery can help with.
Even though everything isn’t clear yet, the direction feels better than before. My body is reacting, recovering, trying to find balance again.
At least now, something concrete has been done.



