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Hi, I’m Adelle.

‍I created this space because my journey to an endometriosis diagnosis didn’t look like the story, I thought endometriosis was supposed to look like.

I’m not a physician. I have a Master’s in Healthcare Administration, a Bachelor’s degree in Nutrition, and I’ve worked in healthcare for more than a decade.

I work as an analyst, and researching problems to identify root causes is my specialty.

I look for patterns, question inconsistencies, research what I don’t understand, and keep going until I can make sense of the bigger picture. ‍

When my own health suddenly became the problem I couldn’t explain, I approached it the same way.

‍What started as unexplained back pain eventually led me through physical therapy, imaging, multiple specialists, three surgical opinions, surgery, pathology, and ultimately a diagnosis of endometriosis.

‍Along the way, I realized how difficult it can be to navigate women’s healthcare when your symptoms don’t fit neatly into a textbook description.

‍So I’m building the resource I wish I had.

‍A place where women can learn about endometriosis beyond the textbook, access free resources to better prepare for appointments, understand research in plain language, learn what questions may be worth asking, and feel empowered to keep searching when something about their health doesn’t add up.

‍I’m also sharing what I continue to learn, including the questions for which medicine doesn’t yet have great answers.

‍This isn’t medical advice, and my experience won’t be everyone’s experience.

‍It’s a starting point for asking better questions, looking for patterns, and getting closer to the root cause.

My Story

My journey didn’t start with my period.

It started with my back.

In January 2026, persistent back pain led to physical therapy and eventually an MRI of my lumbar spine. My spine looked healthy, but the MRI incidentally captured a cystic structure in my pelvis.

That finding started months of ultrasounds, testing, specialists, and ultimately three surgical opinions.

Meanwhile, my symptoms continued to progress. Sitting and standing became increasingly difficult. I developed pelvic pressure and abdominal symptoms, followed by numbness and tingling along the front of my left calf.

And importantly, my symptoms weren’t cyclical. They had become chronic.

One surgeon eventually raised a question I hadn’t even known existed:

Could endometriosis be affecting structures near my sacral nerves?

Major pelvic nerve involvement is rare, and neurological symptoms can have many different causes. But the question changed the way I thought about what was happening.

Instead of asking:

Do my symptoms fit the textbook description of endometriosis?

I started asking:

What could explain the symptoms my body is actually giving me?

Surgery Gave Me Answers

In August 2026, surgery finally gave me some answers.

A roughly 6 cm cyst associated with my fallopian tube was identified by pathology as a benign paratubal serous cystadenofibroma - a tumor. A functional ovarian cyst and two small uterine fibroids were also removed.

And then there was endometriosis. A lot of it.

It wasn’t found in one isolated spot.

Endometriosis was identified throughout multiple areas of my pelvis, including the bladder peritoneum, pelvic sidewalls, posterior cul-de-sac, uterosacral ligament regions, and adjacent to the ureter. Some of the posterior disease was deeply infiltrating.

Suddenly, this wasn’t simply a story about a cyst.

It wasn’t simply a back problem.

And it certainly couldn’t be reduced to having a “bad period.”

Looking backward, I also realized I had normalized painful periods beginning in my early 20s. I would take high doses of ibuprofen for the first day or two, the pain improved, and I went on with my day.

I don’t know when my endometriosis began, and I won’t retroactively attribute every symptom I’ve ever experienced to it.

But I now recognize that making pain tolerable isn’t necessarily the same thing as understanding why it’s happening.

What This Experience Taught Me

I don’t want women to read my story and assume every unexplained symptom is endometriosis.

That’s not the message.

I want women to:

Know your normal. Notice when something changes.

Document what persists. Symptoms can matter even when they aren’t cyclical.

Get your records. Read your reports and ask about what you don’t understand.

Understand your testing. Ask what a test can and cannot tell you.

Find the right provider. Knowing about endometriosis and having specialized experience treating complex disease aren’t necessarily the same thing.

Keep asking questions. When an answer doesn’t adequately explain what you’re experiencing, keep looking.

I’ve worked in healthcare for more than a decade, and I know how fragmented care can become. One provider may evaluate your pelvis. Another your spine. Another your bladder. Another your nerves.

You experience all of it in the same body.

You are the common denominator across every piece of your care.

Advocating for yourself isn’t fighting against healthcare.

It’s making sure healthcare is actually working for you.

My diagnosis gave me answers, but it didn’t give me every answer. I’m still learning, researching, and asking questions and I’ll share what I learn along the way.

Different doesn’t mean insignificant.

Your symptoms don’t have to look like mine.
They don’t have to look like someone else’s.
And they don’t have to fit perfectly inside a textbook description to deserve investigation.

Listen to your body. Ask questions. Keep looking for answers.