I’m not even sure how to begin this article. The struggle of trying to figure out what was going on, the various treatment options that all have their downsides, or the emotional toll that this experience has taken on me are all good jumping off points. But I’ll just lay it out as it is — I have PCOS.
I don’t know if that statement alone sounds off alarm bells in your head, or if the acronym means nothing at all. However, September is PCOS Awareness Month, and for me, I didn’t know the acronym or what the condition’s significance was in my life until earlier this year, but I wish I knew sooner.
PCOS — polycystic ovary syndrome — is a chronic condition in which a hormone imbalance leads to the formation of cysts in the ovaries. The condition can be identified through a number of symptoms — however two of the following need to be present in order to be diagnosed as PCOS — including irregular periods (less than 9 a year), too much androgen (leading to excess hair growth, acne formations, and male-patterned baldness), or polycystic ovaries.
It’s a scary feeling when you’re panicking to schedule an appointment with your OBGYN. Sitting down with the assistant, choked up in tears while you try to advocate for yourself because you know that something isn’t right — and hasn’t been right — for the last year. To not only have various doctors pose possible reasonings that have only been wrong, but to then not give you the correct information on how to prepare for subsequent appointments; leading to more anxiety and scheduling complications. Making you schedule more visits and spend more time mulling over what could actually be happening, since it seems they do not effectively evaluate the symptoms that you are presenting them with.
I’m not saying that being a medical professional is easy. The medical field is a complicated system, where doctors with finite knowledge of you try to figure out what could be happening. I’m not saying that people don’t look for ways to get around regulations in order to get whatever it is that they want. See John Mulaney’s skit on getting nervous on planes if you’re not understanding what I’m implying here.
I am saying that PCOS impacts about 6-13% of reproductive age women and 70% of those impacted remain undiagnosed. This condition can impact women to the point of making them infertile; additionally, altering their lives by increasing their likelihood of developing Type-2 diabetes, heart disease, and endometrial cancer. Depression, anxiety, and negative body image are also being commonly experienced by those with PCOS.
There is no cure for PCOS, however there are ways to manage it. Birth control, IUD, and lifestyle changes are among a few options — however, it is most important to consult with your doctor about what is the best option for you. Unmanaged and undiagnosed, PCOS can lead to severe health complications and increase the risk of cancer. With the condition, there is an unregulated shedding of the uterine lining, which makes the chance of buildup and cancers more probable.
Medically centered articles are not something I have done before, but I want to share that it is important to constantly try to be in tune with your body. It’s important to think critically and acknowledge when something doesn’t seem right.
I’ve sat in doctors’ offices where they have claimed my changes are something that happens to any college students due to frequent late nights, with binge eating and heavy drinking. Well, as someone who’s sober, that was an off putting claim to me, and what is even more off putting was the accusatory stares I got after I said I’m sober, I don’t drink. Do you think I would lie to you about that when I’m actively trying to figure out what’s going on with me? I’m sure that not everyone is 100% honest with everyone — even when consulting medical staff — but after having more ultrasounds than I can count on one hand, and appointments where I constantly had to explain myself over and over, I just wanted to figure out what was going on.
It took me conducting research on my own and walking into my OBGYN’s office and saying, hey, this is what I believe I have. I have the symptoms and it’s been like this for months now, to finally get a somewhat validating response that helped me get on a path to regulating. However, it did not mean that everything and appointment went smoothly from then on, but there was more help than there previously was.
I’m at a place where I can almost not cry thinking about the experiences I have undergone in the past two years now, trying to figure out what caused a dramatic change physically and mentally. Breaking the fourth wall isn’t something I really do when I write, but because this is so important and personal to me, it feels wrong not to speak directly to you.
There’s never any real clear path when going through something medically. However, it’s important to believe and advocate for yourself. You could be off base, but someone else could equally or also be off base. As important as medical professionals are, they see you sparsely throughout the year, whereas you live in your body every day. This is not me trying to provide medical advice because I couldn’t explain the difference between DNA polymerase and — wait — I’m just not qualified to.
I will say there are a lot of emotional, social, and physical changes that happen when you go to college that won’t seem like your norm. You should always honor your feelings if you are recognizing that something doesn’t seem right. This could be needing to talk to your friends because your interactions seem different than what they usually are; or reaching out to a professor who you feel didn’t grade your work appropriately. For me, it took having to advocate for myself in a medical setting to experience the change I wanted. It can be really scary, but you should always advocate for yourself, for you.