Last spring, as I sat in the waiting room at a medical facility before meeting a new family doctor, I anxiously scrolled through Facebook trying to calm the nerves surging within me. I am no stranger to the panic that electrifies me moments before meeting a new doctor. But it never gets easier.
For 13 years, beginning at the age of 21, I bounced from doctor to doctor — from internists to specialists to diagnostic centers and back again — searching for a diagnosis. When I stood, my legs weakened, and when I walked, I ran out of strength. Muscles twitched beneath my skin and pain radiated down my legs like an electrical current. The physical fatigue that shattered my strength was as real as the tuning fork doctors used during neurological exams. But it was invisible, so my words were my only hope.
According to The New York Times, “Studies have shown that compared with men, women face longer waits to be diagnosed with cancer and heart disease, are treated less aggressively for traumatic brain injury, and are less likely to be offered pain medications.” The author noted that women’s misdiagnoses often stem from scientists knowing far less about the female body as compared with the male body — but doctors are also more likely to blame women’s health problems on mental health, weight, or lack of self-care, and that’s exactly what happened to me.
