Navigating Through The Unexpected

How I’m dealing with fibroids (and possibly cancer) in what are supposed to be the best years of my life.

I’ve always joked that I had the worst luck — and the majority of the time, I wasn’t even joking. From multiple car crashes, a freak boat accident, broken bones and random surgeries and injuries, I always felt like I couldn’t catch a break.

Want a perfect example? At the beginning of last year, I went on my very first trip to India with my family for a vacation that was supposed to include shopping and sightseeing. Instead, the country was locked down two weeks after we got there and I had to spend three months trapped in a village with no one my age and only 1GB of data per day. I literally had to decide on a daily basis whether I wanted to watch an episode of Tiger King or FaceTime with loved ones. When I finally got back to Canada, I contracted the COVID-19 virus a few months later and my recovery took me right into the new year.

Because of the chaos and change everyone experienced in 2020, I was so determined to make 2021 the best year yet. I landed my first salary job as a writer and I got a Peloton. I underwent LASIK so I could finally ditch my glasses and I even microbladed my eyebrows. This year was all about being healthy and wealthy and I absolutely couldn’t wait. I was ready to live my best life.

But, as luck would have it, the universe had other plans. Two months ago, I woke up one morning and my stomach was bloated beyond belief. I remember the day clearly because it was the morning of my friend’s bridal shower. I went to put on a dress that I had bought just two weeks prior and it suddenly didn’t fit.

Weird.

However, I chalked it up to being an upset stomach, put on another outfit and carried on with my day. But then the following day, the pain set in with unbelievable cramps, nausea and a fever. I knew something wasn’t right and when my mom saw the size of my stomach she freaked out and told me to book a doctor’s appointment ASAP.

I did that the very next day. After talking to the doctor, I found myself in the emergency room feeling confused, scared and very much alone. Because of COVID-19 restrictions, patients aren’t allowed to have friends or family with them at the hospital or during doctor’s appointments — I never realized the magnitude of that impact until now.

I remember texting my manager and letting her know that I wouldn’t be working that day. I sent her a picture of my stomach for good measure — and we both laughed about just how pregnant I looked. The entire situation felt so bizarre and anyone that knows me well knows that I make mildly inappropriate jokes in times of crisis. That is my coping mechanism.

During that initial visit to the emergency room, the hospital staff performed blood work, x-rays and an ultrasound. Based on these tests, they determined that I had multiple fibroids. In fact, I was told that I had two large ones (larger than a grapefruit) and a few smaller ones. When I insisted that this happened literally overnight, the doctor shrugged me off and told me to just follow up with my family physician. He wasn’t willing to have a further conversation about my diagnosis.

Prior to that day, I didn’t know much about fibroids — even though apparently 80% of women have them. They aren’t openly talked about and after joining support groups online to learn more about my condition, I realized just how taboo the subject seemed to be.

Fibroids are tumours that grow in the wall of the uterus. While not all women with fibroids have symptoms, those who do often find them difficult to live with. Not only are they associated with pain and heavy menstrual bleeding, but they can often be the sole cause of infertility. That seemed like a pretty big deal to me.

Yet no one seemed to believe me when I told them that this large belly of mine wasn’t there a few days before. I felt as if I wasn’t being taken seriously, no matter how much I tried to advocate for myself and my health.

One of my closest friends made a comment that healthcare seems to be “made by men for men”, and this, unfortunately, rang true in my case. Did you know that there is approximately an eight-month wait to see a gynecologist in the province of Ontario? When I was informed of this, I was absolutely appalled and downright angry.

I was in excruciating pain, suddenly had the appearance of a very pregnant woman and was being told I wouldn’t have answers for another eight months. Instead, I was advised to take Advil and essentially carry on like normal.

Like…WTF!?

I even tried to take matters into my own hands. With the help of a friend, I reached out to several gynecologists in hopes of getting an appointment sooner. It became apparent to me that so many women are in similar situations and suffering in silence.

I felt defeated by the pain and suffering. I wanted answers and I turned to the Internet to read more about the experiences of other women. Their stories gave me comfort and a sense of community.

So, I decided to share my story too in hopes of encouraging other women to speak out about their health concerns. I hope to make other women not feel so alone as they await their test results all by themselves. I decided to share my story because women’s health should never be a taboo subject.

Other events have unfolded in my fibroid journey since those first few days. What one doctor initially brushed off as fibroids is now suspected to be a rare type of cancer. And while I may be unlucky, I want to turn this ordeal into something positive. If my health struggles, and the subsequent lessons I have learned as a result, resonate with even one person — then this is all worth it.

I hope you follow along as I navigate through this latest chapter of my life. It won’t be an easy one, but I am determined to make the most of it.