So...my surgery last month went great, at least, as great as I guess these things can go. Long story short, it's over.
My mom came up the day before, and we scoped out the day surgery center and the best route to get there. The day of, we got there about 6 am, checked in, waited a long time...and finally got in. I'm such a lightweight - the Ativan alone knocked me out. I remember about a minute and a half after the nurse gave it to me, and nothing thereafter. Also, I hate general anesthesia. A lot. I don't like the foggy "what's going on??" feeling that comes afterward, and it always makes me nauseous.
Interesting note, though: I told the anesthesiologist that I always get sick after general, and his first question was, "Do you get carsick, too?" Well, golly gee, yes I do. I'm the only person I know who can get carsick while driving, in fact. (Only my parents' car, that they are about to get rid of, thank goodness. But still.) Also, side note: when I was on chemo, the worst drug they gave me, adriamyacin, always made me sick, but "carsick". I remember that it wasn't straight-up nausea, I really did feel motion-sick, to the point that I couldn't even read because that just made it worse. Huh. Brain chemistry = weird.
Nevertheless, I was under for less than an hour, and afterwards, I managed to avoid taking vicodin or anything else wonky for pain, just a strict regimen of ibuprofen for several days. I came home and slept the rest of the day, most of Saturday, and a decent portion of Sunday. I have a couple totally fantastic friends who came over to keep me company, bring me coffee, and help me stay up late so I could sleep better. Friends are the best.
By Monday, I was even (mostly) ready to go bridesmaid dress shopping, so my mom and I traipsed all over town doing that. (Long story, more later.)
Upshot of the surgery is: they burned off "seven or eight" spots of endo, and everything else looks really good. So that's good. Of course, I was terrified that they were going to tell me my whole body was encased in this crap and there was nothing they could do and I would never have babies blah blah blah. And, of course, none of that happened.
So, for the time being, I'm just chilling out and seeing what happens. My doc said to let him know if I want to take Lupron. I don't. So, we'll see what's next. At least some symptoms do indeed seem to be better already, so praise God for that!