My Festive Uterus: Life with PCOS
This article is the first in my 'Storytime Sundays' series. I've always been a public diary, happy and willing to share my stories and experiences with whomever will listen. I hope this series, if even one story, brings you laughter, lessons and light. Feel free to share your thoughts or questions. Enjoy!
Festive; a colloquial term in Jamaica which suggests excitement and rave.
Used in a sentence: I have a festive uterus.
Expanded: Mi uterus ah keep, mi uterus have a buzz!
I still vividly remember being diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). It was a December weekday in 2012, I was staying with a drug lord (a story I’ll reserve for another day) and I’d been bleeding from my uterus for four weeks. I wasn’t freakishly alarmed as I’d always been plagued with irregular periods. However, it was like the period gods told me to take my short skirt, navy blue T-shirt-wearing ass to my gynaecologist at Medical Associates in Kingston to get checked out. What alarmed me was him wanting to do an ultrasound. Like sir, I’m bleeding heavily, it’s a whole bloody, messy situation down there and you want me to remove my panties with this pad attached, and skin-out on this hospital bed? He assured me he’s used to it and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to Picasso that bed red.
Abnormal uterine bleeding (AUB) episodes require a pregnancy test which I wasn’t against as I hadn’t been sexually active at the time. The test returned negative (duh) and it was time for my first ultrasound. I have to say it’s not exactly how I imagined my first ultrasound. As an unwavering supporter of cliché Lifetime and chick flicks, I’d dreamt of doing my first ultrasound with my pumpkin belly and husband by my side. At 19, this wasn’t the case. After having that clear jelly placed on my tummy and transducer poked left, right, up and down my vagina, my attention was drawn to some spots on the computer monitor.
"Oh-oh, you have multiple cysts around your ovaries," the doctor said.
He explained how PCOS serves as an obstacle course for sperms, increasing chances of infertility, and how it causes irregular, heavy and prolonged menses. I stared at the sonogram and the tears flowed. An hour ago I was living my best, irresponsible young gyal life, and now he was writing a referral letter to have me admitted to the Kingston Public Hospital for an emergency dilation and curettage (DnC) operation. Whoa.
Let's get pussy personal.
A DnC, also called D&C, describes the clearing of the uterus lining.
It is popularly known as the abortion procedure, and I remember some family members thinking I had miscarried or was having a problematic pregnancy because I was bleeding. Being admitted to the gynaecology ward didn’t help to rid those assumptions, but it highlighted that people are truly unaware of PCOS and the fact that gynaecology issues extend beyond being preggo.
The surgery wasn’t done as doctors expressed concerns over potentially damaging my uterus lining, and I was instead given a blood transfusion (donate blood if you can, shit is real!) and placed on oral contraceptives to regulate the bleeding.
Since then, life with PCOS has been really challenging. I was angry early in my diagnosis as research reveals the condition affects women who are obese and/or white. I’ve been slim all my life and black as a mofo, so I struggled with understanding how I could have attracted this condition.
My body has also changed which has affected my self-confidence over the years. I loved sporting crop-tops or belly-skins as we’d say in Jamaica, but I don’t do that anymore as PCOS has given me pronounced navel hairs, chin hairs and a faint moustache. There’s also the vampire-sucking fatigue that comes with PCOS; I’m tired all the time, captain of the 'Shortness of Breath' team and have episodes of depression. I only acknowledged the latter this year when the random bleeding resumed.
Pause.
I was also diagnosed with polyps in 2018, which are like PCOS' good Judys.
As my doctor delineated, picture a mango tree during mango season. The uterus is the tree and the polyps are like mangoes hanging from it. So it’s quite festive over here, big, big dance ah keep mi love! The cysts on my left and right ovaries are the speaker boxes, and the polyps are the dry-foot hot girls in the middle of the dance thirsty for some limelight.
Play.
The polyps triggered AUB in April, and I’ve battled with months of consistent, heavy bleeding. One week of bleeding is cute, three weeks are doable, but afterwards, you get to a dark place. I’ve had many days where I ruin my panties, soil my clothes and even mess up the floor because of how heavy the flow is. Then there are the alien-sized clots I can actually feel coming out of me, and that messes with your mental. I can’t just wear any colour clothing or fabric, and my bag is always stacked with extra panties, pads, wipes, soap and a towel. Now imagine the impact this has on one’s confidence and psyche. Sometimes I don’t leave my house as I’m not only afraid to mess up, but afraid people will smell the blood. Other times I feel so undesirable and unwomanly.
Hello insensitivity
I was again admitted to the hospital in June, on the day I had a college exam, but kept it together and delivered nonetheless.
This is the life of a woman with PCOS; stepping outside each day, looking your best, getting shit done, even though your hormones are all over the place or your uterus is a troublesome tap forever in troll mode.
I’ve done more than 10 pregnancy tests in 2020 though the last time I had sex was January 1. I’m also tired of having random fingers, cold, hostile specula and ultrasound wands invade my vagina.
The insensitivity is a bitch, and writer Kristeena Monteith details this in a recent blog post. I’ve had doctors repeat pregnancy tests because they refused to believe I’m not pregnant. One doctor even said, "No man, this pregnancy test is broken." Sir, the last time I felt penis, tasted penis, did anything with penis was January 1, so unless I’m the next Mary, I’d like to not have to deal with your insensitivity.
There are also PCOS-related acne and hair loss. I have two barbers: one for my brows and one for my hair. I’m not satisfied with how either does both so I’ve designated them accordingly. The brow barber would always ask me, "Why yuh face so bumpy-bumpy?" every time I sat in his chair. I haven’t been to him since February and have instead opted to do my brows myself. Do you hear me asking you, "Why yuh belly so big?" No, because I don’t know the circumstances surrounding your big belly.
I’ve had lower days, even contemplated suicide and thought if I didn’t kill myself, surely my uterus will with this bipolar bleeding. I’ve also seen how my mood swings have affected my relationships so sometimes I withdraw instead of snapping at everyone...though I think withdrawal has its dangers too.
So yeah. That’s not my PCOS story as chapters are being added. There’s no cure for the thing but treatment options including oral progestogens (hormone pills) are available. Apparently I’m supposed to be on them until menopause which is wild to me as they have short and long-term side effects. However, you can do the DnC operation at a private hospital to remove the cysts (cost is approximately JMD$150,000) once you’ve been diagnosed and medication isn’t fruitful. I’m sceptical about the procedure as if the cysts could form before, can’t they regrow after surgery? Research has also pointed to exercise and a plant-based diet to alleviate symptoms.
I don’t know if I’ll be happy or sad tomorrow, I don’t know if the random bleeding will ever end, but I do know I want children, a football team even. Sometimes I see women share pregnancy/baby photos on the 'Gram and I’m immediately happy but equally sad as I wonder if I’ll ever experience that. I’ve even broken down in public by just observing kids. Will I ever? Can I even? How will it…?
But I try to remain hopeful and faithful and trust that God knows what He’s doing. I’ve accepted that though my desire is to be a mom, maybe God doesn’t have that on my timeline. I weep sometimes, but I trust His process so a sistah keeps it pushing.
I distract myself by focusing on other areas of my life, like my career, wellness, rebuilding my confidence, learning how to not burn breakfast… I know that some people are going through worse situations, so my trial is my trial because God knows I can handle it. It’s up to me to find the lessons and my purpose from it. I also find comfort in knowing that there are women who have PCOS and other conditions, yet they’ve been able to thrive and have inspiring careers, some have even had children.
To the women who have irregular or heavy periods, I recommend that you go to your gynaecologist and get checked out if you haven’t already. You’ll be asked about your typical blood flow, sanitary protection usage, presence and size of clots, and any symptoms that have been impacting your daily life. Based on your responses, the doctor may also perform a physical exam and transvaginal ultrasound to determine what’s happening.
To my hunnies with the PCOS festive uterus, I’d like to think of us as superhumans fighting battles that many people aren’t aware of.
I raise my virtual glass of water to you and say:
You are still feminine
You are Woman
You are not broken or defective
You did nothing wrong
You are not alone
You are blessed and purposeful
You will be okay
We. Will. Be. Okay
Happy PCOS Awareness Month!
