My Pain is Not a Figment of My Imagination
by Elaine Mead
The first time I visited the doctor for something other than a viral infection or prescription refill, I’d noticed some abnormal bleeding and cramps outside of my regular cycle. Waiting in the reception to see the GP, I remember feeling clammy and anxious. Not because of the bleeding, but because I wasn’t sure how the appointment would go.
Sitting in front of the GP, a large middle-aged man, I described my symptoms. As soon as I mentioned bleeding, he put his pen down and looked at me.
“Are you on your period?” he asked. I’d already told him I wasn’t.
“What about your pill?” he quizzed. I asked what he meant by the question.
“Do you take it properly, same time every day?” I told him I did, but I’d been on the same pill for several years, perhaps it might be worth exploring my options?
He shook his head. “No. You have to take it at the same time every day, or you’ll experience .. bleeding.” He hushed the word out through red cheeks, ignoring my response.
“Check you’re taking it properly and if it’s still a problem for you, come back and see me in a week.” He gestured towards the door.
I hurriedly made my way home. I felt embarrassed and stupid. It was the ‘problem for you’ statement that left me with a hollow feeling. I’d forgotten that when it comes to the female body and pain; it’s not important.
hysteria and the ‘wandering womb’
There’s a historical theme of women facing an uphill battle to get their bodies and their pain taken seriously by the medical profession. Female pain has long been connected to disobedience, control, and morality over women using (or not using) our bodies for the one thing they should be used for; birthing children.
Hippocrates was chief amongst this form of thinking, popularising the idea of the ‘wandering womb’. He believed the medical afflictions women suffered were down to the uterus ‘dislodging’ itself from the pelvic region and ‘wandering’ about the body. When the uterus wasn’t used for what it was destined for - bearing children - it got bored, roamed and wreaked all kinds of havoc, including what Hippocrates called ‘hystera’ (the Greek word for uterus).
The ‘wandering womb’ theory was debunked (obviously) but the idea of female hysteria persisted. In the 18th century, hysteria was reframed as a disease of the nervous system and accredited to the rapid changes brought about by the industrial revolution, and its incompatibility with female ‘frailty’.
Hysteria symptoms ranged from anxiety, nervousness, insomnia, fluid retention, bloating, irritability, loss of appetite for food or sex. Essentially, typical female experiences, many of which are now linked to credible conditions.
She’s beautiful though
Research has found women wait longer for pain medication than men, are more likely to have physical symptoms attributed to mental health issues, and are more likely to suffer from ignored or denied illnesses by medical professionals. Pain for women is also normalised by the mass-media.
I watched a movie recently, Deja Vu, first released in 2006. Denzel Washington plays a police officer who, while examining the maimed body of a murdered young woman (including dismemberment and burning), comments ‘She’s beautiful though’. ‘Old’ movie excuse aside, similar narratives consume how women are portrayed across television and film alike. Society still tells us female pain is to be expected and accepted, even when it is violent, and this narrative drip feeds into our homes.
As I’ve grown older and continued to have experiences similar to the one described above, I’ve learnt to be savvy about who I approach with my pain. I research GPs at my local clinics for their medical backgrounds and expertise before deciding who to book an appointment with. I select female doctors and practice the art of seeking second opinions when I need to.
Should I have to carefully research and plan who and how I present my pain? No. But I am and always will be the expert of what is healthy for my body. Until the gap closes once and for all, it is the best offence I have to get my pain taken seriously.
About the author
Elaine is a freelance writer and educator, currently based in Hobart, Tasmania. Her writing has appeared with Darling Magazine, WILD Wellbeing, F*EMS Zine, Write Or Die Tribe, and more. She is passionate about using our lived experiences to uncover more authentic versions of ourselves and unapologetically obsessed with her dachshund.
You can find her on most social media under @wordswithelaine.