Bonus Meatloaf: "Scooterus Uterus"

A cautionary tale of my uterus gone rogue—this one is for all the women.

A note before you read:

The contents of this newsletter may be sensitive to some who do not like to read about personal medical issues. I gave this a great deal of consideration, though this information is very personal to me, I decided that there may be women out there with the same issues I had who need to visit their doctor. Female issues are often overlooked, and I want to encourage you today to advocate for yourself. This is dedicated to all the women out there who are suffering in silence.

Six years ago, I noticed a change in my menstrual cycle. I felt like a teenager again, experiencing a heavy cycle and more intense side effects. I chalked it up to getting older and suffered silently for a couple of years. When I mentioned it to my doctors, they would say things like, “Yep, it’s all a part of getting older, you are transitioning.” By the time I was forty, I began to feel flu-like symptoms right before my period, through the first few days of it. Another year later, these symptoms increased to extreme exhaustion, insomnia, and almost two weeks of pre-period symptoms. During that time, my mental health was poor, COVID-19 happened, and I was mainly concerned about maintaining the health of my son, who has cerebral palsy. In my mind, there was no time to care for my health.

I put my health on the back burner and forged ahead with all the other things life tossed my way. Little by little, I began confiding in women, and as we commiserated, they would say, “Oh, I have that too,” or “Yeah, our bodies are just going through the change.” A coworker who saw me very ill one day during my period said to me, “Mel, this is not normal. You need to get it checked out.” Then I had three periods in one month, and I took myself straight to the doctor. Even after an intense ultrasound, they found nothing, and she told me, “It’s perimenopause, nothing to be concerned about, let me know if it gets worse.” But I didn’t because “it was perimenopause”—every woman my age was going through it. And yet, something felt very off.

My symptoms intensified, getting worse by the month, along with pelvic pain, anemia, chronic stomach issues, and other very troubling problems. I began to talk to my friends more about it, and each one started to tell me things like, “I’m experiencing perimenopause, but I don’t have what you are describing,” and “It’s time to really get checked out, this is not normal.” I continued working, studying, and attending to my kid’s appointments and school activities. I kept busy and suffered silently each month.

Then one day, I began my period, and it lasted for 30 days. I immediately set up an appointment with a new gynecologist. By that point, I had suffered long enough, and I wanted to talk to him about a hysterectomy. I told him all my symptoms and said, “I would like to discuss having a hysterectomy.” He sat there smugly and responded condescendingly, “You have what we call perimenopause.” I immediately knew that this was not my guy. I pushed back and said, “Something is not right.” He told me that I had just had an ultrasound a year ago, and no serious problems were present, so I needed to wait six more weeks and come back to tell him if I wanted another one then. I said, “Doctor, I had a period for one month, and what about the other thing I told you about? Does that not alarm you?” He said it was curious but not alarming—and then he added, “I’m not giving you a hysterectomy; I’ll see you in six weeks.”

I never went back.

Instead, I made an appointment with my GP’s gynecologist and waited three very long months to see her. During that time, my GP had me do every test that made sense. From an X-ray to a colonoscopy, I underwent them all, and everything came up negative. I knew in my heart that my problem was my uterus. Something was terribly wrong. By the time I saw the new gynecologist, I had just finished another month-long period. She listened intently to my issues and said, “You're almost 44, you are done having kids, your symptoms are debilitating; let's talk about a hysterectomy.”

Praise God.

After a couple more tests (which included an ultrasound), she said it looked like I had Adenomyosis, “a condition where tissue that normally lines the uterus grows into the muscular wall of the uterus. This can cause heavy, painful periods, pelvic pain, and other symptoms.”¹ She told me there is no way to know for sure until they take the uterus out and send it to pathology, but it would certainly be the answer to the cause of my issues, and given the circumstances, it was completely reasonable to get a hysterectomy. We scheduled it for three months out so I could finish up my chaplaincy class first.

I was so relieved.

I was also furious at that jerk of a doctor who made me feel so small and disregarded my symptoms. In fact, this is the case for many women. My husband found an article titled, Doctors Often Gaslight Women with Pelvic Disorders and Pain, Study Finds by Linda Carroll. Here are a few quotes from it:

“The flood of dismissive and invalidating remarks by health care providers about disorders affecting the vulva and vagina can be devastating for women, sometimes leading them to abandon their search for help with their pain.”

“The participants reported that an average of 43.5% of past practitioners were supportive. But more than a quarter of the providers were belittling, and about 20% did not believe the patient.”

“Overall, just over 40% of the women were told they just needed to relax more, about 20% were recommended to drink alcohol, and 39.4% said they were made to “feel crazy.”²

These quotes are infuriating. Doctors need to do better for women. Enough said.

The month before my hysterectomy, I had three periods in 30 days and an episode of my body shaking from my hormones going crazy; it was the worst I had ever been. I was so ready to have the surgery—it was time for my uterus to scoot on out of my body!

Five days ago, I had my two-week post-op appointment, where she reviewed everything she told me in the hospital that I didn’t hear because I was so drugged up. She said I had “advanced adhesive disease.” They were not aware of this going in. She had to separate my uterus from my bladder, separate it from my omentum (the fatty tissue around my stomach—the cause of my chronic stomach issues), and separate one of my fallopian tubes from my pelvic wall. “I had no idea you had that, it’s common among women with c-sections, and yours was bad.”

I had been so practical about all of this for the six years I struggled. I told myself again and again that what I was experiencing was what every woman was experiencing. Then, when it got bad, I took the next steps, and then test after test, until finally someone listened to me. I went through all the motions, trying to be as practical and calm about it as I could. That night, I sat in my bed and realized that the suffering was over, and I surprised myself as I burst into tears. All the emotion I had bottled up came out in sob after sob. I was simultaneously happy, angry, and relieved.

My dear female friends, I know that it can be difficult to put ourselves first, but if you feel something is wrong, it likely is—investigate it. You know your body; listen to what it’s telling you. Advocate for yourself and continue to push until you receive the answers you need. Don’t go back to that jerk doctor. I waited too long, and I won’t do that again. My health is too important. Your health is too important. Let’s take care of ourselves and urge our friends to do the same.

1. https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/21608-perimenopause

2. https://www.nbcnews.com/health/womens-health/women-pelvic-symptoms-pain-doctors-gaslight-study-rcna205403