Surgical consult on Monday, 500 miles from home. Babysitter booked, crazy schedule broken down into bite sized texts. Her response: “How do you do this every day?”

I should be back into town Monday night. My mind can’t even think far enough ahead to try to start making peace with the fact that they’re going in my body again. Laparoscopy is no longer an option for me. They’re going to cut through my abdominal wall again. I remember last time. It was such a difficult recovery. The first day and a half I just sat in a chair and wept. Maybe it wasn’t weeping. I was tired and tears just ran out of my eyes.

I’ve contacted all of my elected officials again contacted every media outlet again. A reporter from the weekly “alternative” newspaper from a nearby city is coming to my house on Wednesday morning to interview me. So it worked, the emails I sent. I’m glad someone listened I hear there’s an article about Essure in Cosmopolitan this month. It crosses my mind-reflexively-and I wonder how many Essure ads they’ve run. If there are any in there this month.

Do other people live a life that is not a fight? I get that overcoming adversity looks worthwhile from the outside. And I guess I’d rather be overcoming adversity than just sitting around being a giant asshole. But, man, would I like to live a life, even just for a little while, that is not adversarial. I don’t know why I’ve never had that. I realize I’m the common denominator, but that I’ve always wanted this, have put thought and effort into obtaining it (from, like, real life strategizing to getting a peace sign tattooed on my ankle to have a permanent reminder of my goal.)

I'm tired. I'm tired. Why won't they let me be?