Tag Archives: women’s health

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That Quiet Thing We Never Talk About

Last December, I wrote this post about an incident that happens quite regularly for me. Every 3 months, to be exact. I was terrified when I wrote it. We’re taught that these are the quiet things that we never talk about. When we do, it’s in embarrassed little whispers and we feel dirty for talking about menstruation and “female parts”. Something that happens to about half the world’s population but it still isn’t something we discuss. Rather than be open about it, we’re taught to be ashamed of our bodies.

I should have written more blogs about what it’s like to hate your own body because of something out of your control. Girls are laughed at when they stand up for themselves because “It must be that time of the month.” It’s a joke to others and a shameful reality for most. Society tells us to just suck it up. It’s in our head. Every other woman has the same struggle as you do. You’re just a baby that can’t handle that.

I’ve been told by a lot of people to just suck it up. It can’t be that bad. It’s a lonely feeling when you know you’re not alone in your struggles with your female parts but it’s even lonelier knowing that these are the quiet things that we’re not supposed to talk about and there are other people who share your struggles who also remain silent. But we need to talk about it. Otherwise, how many other women are going to suffer in silence because we refuse to admit that we’re not okay and no one is willing to help us figure out why?

As it turns out from some research, there’s actually a term for this: “medical gaslighting” or “healthcare gaslighting“. (I added an interesting article I came across.) This article was actually pretty fascinating as I remember a time when I would plead with doctors for answers, only to have them say it’s in my head or I’m just playing up my symptoms. I wonder if there are no answers because no one cares to look. I mean, these issues only affect about 49.6% of the population so it can’t be that important to look into.

I even remember when I was younger and my mom would fight for me at the doctors. “She’s probably not going to have kids with this problem anyways, so why bother?” is what I remember the doctor saying. I was a teenager and rather than taking it seriously, they just dismissed me because I was potentially going to be infertile anyways and I was just a kid who couldn’t handle the pain. (Spoiler: a few years later at 18, I did end up pregnant with my oldest. 10 years later, I very easily got pregnant with my youngest.) I remember missing out on many days of college because I couldn’t leave the bed. I would get my period every 2 weeks and in those “off-weeks”, I was in the nauseated PMS stage where I felt dizzy and like death the entire time with brain piercing hormonal headaches. The first time I ended up on low dose pills was the only time that I found any sort of relief. Well, for the first year anyways. Then the symptoms came back with a vengeance and I’ve just had to deal with it since. But, the good news is that now I only have to struggle for 14 days every 3 months rather than every month. (insert eyeroll here)

I have given up. I figure that I only have about 10 or 15 more years to deal with it at this point, so why bother? I’ve accepted the fact that I won’t be able to work outside of the house because of these problems, even if this is the first time I’m admitting that this is a major reason for my choice. I’ve accepted that I have to plan my social calendar (after coronavirus) around my cycle. I’ve accepted that my husband will treat me like a porcelain doll during this time because he’s afraid of me passing out in a place where I can’t get help or getting more seriously hurt when I do. That I need 3 heating pads wrapped around me just not to cry in pain because nothing I’ve tried works and at least the heat dulls it a little. The embarrassing things that I have to deal with when it comes to the excessive bleeding. And here I am, flushed in the face that I even wrote this paragraph.

But… stay with me here… what if we didn’t have to suffer in silence because of this thing that we’re raised to not talk about or to be embarrassed about? What if the doctors did care enough to put the time into figuring it out or someone cared enough to research it so there were answers for the rest of us suffering as a result of these health issues? It might be too late for my generation, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fight for the future ones.

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It’s All Fun and Games Until You Pass Out at a Work Party

It should have been a fun night out. My husband and I are admittedly not a couple that does date night regularly. The kids are only young for so long, after all. But one day that we always have for date night is my husband’s work party. The close knit group of employees gets together and fun is had.

It started off great. Talking with great people at the beginning of the night, my husband winning us another trip. (Which, will include the kids.) It was full of sweet exchanges. That was until I felt it start to happen. I felt a stabbing pain in my side, that evolved into the feeling as if someone had a fire sword slicing through the lower part of my abdomen and back. This wasn’t the real thing. This was the “minor” pregame of what the next two weeks were going to be like for me. Then, my head started swirling. I couldn’t think or focus. I tried to drink water, hoping it would pass….

…Except the only thing that “passed” was me out on the floor. I barely remember it. I remember leaning onto my husband, warning him of what was about to happen. He could only protect me from seriously hurting myself, only walking away with a banged up elbow, a sore shoulder, and a hit to my dignity. I remember the people huddling over me. I think I heard someone mention calling 911 and the thought of the ambulance bill woke me out of the spell.

Still weak, a few of the women helped me to the bathroom. They helped me splash cold water on my face and wet paper towels. The made sure the bathroom was cleared so my husband could come in and take me back to the table, where they had more water and ginger ale. It was a sweet moment. It was embarrassing. I had to admit that it wasn’t because of the heat or the fact the food was slow to come out. It was because of me. Because I’m defective. Not because I had drank too much, which honestly would have been the better way to go down. Just as embarrassing, but you won’t feel the pain until the next day.

This wasn’t my first major dizzy spell that has led to me passing out. I remember one time where it happened while cooking dinner and I hit my head on the tile floor and the glass measuring cup I was holding smashed against my face. The glass didn’t break, but my face and eye were pretty swollen. It was something I could shrug off as “it happens”. It does. I’m used to it. It still terrifies my husband every time though.

It’s never an easy thing to say “I have a thing where my period basically feels like I have the worst flu of my life for 14 days.” I don’t typically leave the house starting the first day of the placebo pills until after the symptoms completely subside. I have dizzy spells, I spend a lot of time nauseated sometimes to the point of aversion to meats. Just looking at them in a picture is nauseating, let alone the smell. There’s always the fear of leaving blood trails everywhere I go because I seem to bleed out an obscene amount. I’m practically resigned to my bed whenever I can because I’m prone to dizzy spells and I get headaches so severe sitting up isn’t worth it. There’s also the cramps, which are significantly more painful than child birth. It’s like someone has a noose that’s lit on fire wrapped around your lower abdomen and back and your left hanging for 2 weeks as it gets tighter every day.

The problem is sometimes there is no fancy diagnosis. Apparently people need that for validation that you aren’t some wuss with a low pain tolerance. They think you just need to suck it up. There’s not a solution for it; the ones in power seem more concerned with women having babies as God intended and not about the harsh realities some people face. I get to spend time I should be out at a job or being more active curled up in the fetal position wondering why there’s nothing I can do about how I feel. There’s no magic pill that makes it bearable and you need to keep reheating that heating pad to function enough to at least be the adequate parent you are. But you can’t. Because you have a hormonal headache so bad you can’t even open your eyes to look at them.

It’s embarrassing to write about this. But it shouldn’t be. I’m not the only one who has this struggle. Maybe someone else has it too and wants to know that it’s normal. The problem is that it isn’t normal; it’s just common. There should be a solution to make life more livable without hearing “just suck it up”. But, you’re not the only one with this struggle. The picture here is a selfie I took during a bad migraine in my dark room, curled up in agony with my Pixel Night Sight so I didn’t have to hurt myself with the flash. This is the reality some of us deal with.

Side note: I’m am very thankful to those who helped and reached out to my husband to ask how I am doing. It’s very kind. It definitely helps to know that there was no judgement and that people genuinely cared.