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Uncovering Hormonal Chronic Pain

Abigail Sylvester Student Contributor, University of California - Santa Barbara
This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at UCSB chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

As a woman, pain is often swept under the rug, and its validity is often questioned. Women’s reproductive health has been one of the most neglected, unexplored, and underfunded areas within healthcare, leaving women guessing and checking to understand symptoms with minimal guidance. In college, it has been challenging to navigate my health and manage symptoms on my own. Nonetheless, it has been rewarding, to say the least, to create conversations about reproductive health, learn more about the hormonal makeup of the female body, and find community in college students who have dealt with similar symptoms.

At thirteen years old, I had woken up unusually early one morning to a sensation that had swarmed over my abdomen, or so I had thought, that had led to excruciating pain. I had never experienced anything like it. I curled into a ball on my aunt’s couch, knees tucked tightly between my forearms and chest. I rocked back and forth, hoping that the pain would subside. 

Except it didn’t. Within thirty minutes, I was experiencing what would be the first of many painful episodes to come. I had lost complete control over my body, and I had seemed to become consumed by the pain. I ran to the kitchen sink and repeatedly vomited until I was dry heaving with tears stinging my eyes. Ten minutes later, the pain had subsided, but my body was weak. I wasn’t sure what to do except tell my parents and hope they would know what was wrong. They didn’t.

The Diagnosis Process

When I told friends and family about the episode, they often dismissed me, including other women. I felt confused and alone. I knew that the severity of my menstrual cycle was not normal, but as a thirteen-year-old girl, it can be challenging to advocate for yourself to doctors, let alone friends and family. 

During an appointment with my physician, I described my symptoms, filled out questionnaires, and briefly discussed a diagnosis. My physician acknowledged that I needed further medical attention and referred me to a gynecology team at Boston Children’s Hospital. In the meantime, I had been prescribed birth control to minimize the pain, but it functioned to aid temporary pain management rather than as a long-term solution. 

At Boston Children’s, they poked and prodded my body, from blood tests to urine samples, to find some explanation. Yet throughout this whole process, endometriosis and polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) were never proposed as a possibility for me. After a few weeks, I was prescribed a different medication but was left empty-handed for a diagnosis. 

By high school, I had started asking more questions, talking with my female friends, and seeking advice from older women. I gradually recognized that I wasn’t alone. I have encountered women who had received less access to health care and education about their reproductive health and who learned to live with their chronic pain, even when it debilitated their ability to function. 

History of Women’s Health

According to the CDC, in the United States, nearly 6.5 to 6.7 million women between ages 15 and 44 are estimated to have endometriosis, which is approximately 1 in 10 women. Women’s health has been systematically neglected, and education practices about the female body remain limited. Medical research has historically focused on male bodies, symptoms, and subjects. For decades, women have been excluded from clinical trials, and conditions affecting women such as endometriosis and PCOS have received significantly less funding. This exclusion has created major diagnostic gaps and biased medical education. Harvard Health published that “women’s pain experiences are often minimized or dismissed by clinicians.” 

Endometriosis is a condition in which tissue grows outside the uterine cavity. The symptoms include pelvic pain, heavy menstrual bleeding, pain during intercourse, and infertility. According to the World Health Organization, “symptoms in individuals with endometriosis are variable and broad, meaning that health and care workers may not easily diagnose.” In addition, “access to early diagnosis and effective treatment of endometriosis is limited in many settings.” 

Polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS) is a hormonal and metabolic condition characterized by irregular menstrual cycles, excess androgen levels, and ovarian cysts. According to World Metrics, “PCOS affects up to one in ten women and greatly raises risks for insulin resistance, diabetes, heart disease, and fertility.” These conditions are often seen as interchangeable yet arise from different imbalances and present different symptoms. Although they are not duplicates of one another, both are women’s health conditions that result in increased difficulty in pinpointing and diagnosing.

Moving Forward

Trial and error and hearsay should not be the channels through which young women receive information about the functions of the female body. Still, that seems to be the chain of information most open to questions and discourse. Proper education practices and adequate research funding are the key to moving the needle and creating progress. Young women deserve the knowledge and resources to acknowledge when something is wrong and feel empowered, not helped, but rather feel ashamed.

My name is Abigail Sylvester and I am a Film & Media Studies and Communications student. I write for HerCampus, Women in Media, and the Daily Nexus at the University of California, Santa Barbara. Aside from journalism, I love to read memoirs, write poetry, and interpret the visual language of film-making.