I changed doctors, hoping to find a solution this time, only to be sagely told once more that I did not require treatment. The new doctor also didn’t believe in endometriosis. She told me I wasn’t actually in pain at all. This was all psychological, caused by my own tension. It was my fault. This explanation would be repeated so often that I believed it, my friends and family believed it, and I felt ashamed of this stupid thing I had done to myself, and apparently could not stop doing. Because the pain wasn’t going away.
If a man tells a doctor he has a pain, the doctor will order an X-ray, CT scan, or MRI.
If a woman tells a doctor she has a pain, anything other than the possible cause will be considered. Exercise, pills, or therapy of some sort will be suggested or prescribed. An actual look into her body by a machine? No.
Had a doctor taken seriously the pain complaints of a woman I know, she would not now be under the death sentence of Stage IV metastatic pancreatic adenocarcinoma.
This shit matters.
Previously at Mike Cane’s xBlog: