Let's talk ovaries

When I first got my period at the age of 11, I didn't know what was happening to me. We didn't really learn much about menstrual cycles in school, so I wasn't sure what this strange thing happening to me was. I remember calling my mom into the bathroom and asking her what was wrong with me and if I was dying. She started crying, smiled and said, "No sweetie - you have your period." She promptly showed me how to use a pad, and explained when I should change it - you know, typical mother/daughter talk.

As months passed, my periods became irregular. They always had been. I asked my mom about this, and she said as a young teenager this was completely normal, and they might not even out until I was done with puberty. I quickly dismissed my worries and continued living my life.

Now comes the exciting age of 19 - surely my periods should have become regular by now? The answer is no. They did not. Yet, still under the perception that they would eventually regulate, I assumed all was well, and this was okay. That was until 2 months turned into 3, 3 turned into 4... which eventually turned into 18. 18 months without a period! Not a single symptom or any sign or indication that one would show itself. Now you may wonder... didn't you think you were pregnant? Again, the answer is no. I wasn't sexually active, so that fear was out of the way. Another question you may ask is why didn't you get it checked out? Why wait so long? Perhaps the answer is arrogance, ignorance, or anxiety.

Now we can get into the meat of the story. How did I become AWARE of PCOS, and for those who don't know, PCOS stands for Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. It is essentially what it sounds like if you're familiar with medical terms - a bunch of little cysts on a female’s ovaries.

My closest friend in college first mentioned this term to me. She had recently been diagnosed with this peculiar syndrome. Concerned about the well-being of my friend, I asked her questions about it: how did she find out, what steps did she take, etc. The more she explained to me what it was and the symptoms she had, the more and more I could relate to what she was talking about. I kept thinking to myself: Could I have this? I matched a lot of the symptoms she was talking about.

By this time, I was 21. I decided it was time to discuss this with my family doctor. I made an appointment for a physical and was told the soonest I could get in was 10 months from the time I called. (Keep in mind, wait times in Canada are typically atrocious unless you're on your deathbed.)

When I finally was able to talk with my doctor, they seemed shocked that I had gone 18 months without a cycle, but they suggested PCOS. They asked if I had any of the symptoms (besides the obvious illusive periods), such as hair loss, excessive hair growth in 'abnormal female' places, weight gain... I embarrassingly admitted I had all of those. They told me my best option: birth control. I was curious as to how this would help me. They told me it wouldn't help with any of the symptoms besides the irregular periods, and at the time, that was good enough for me. Although not formally diagnosed – it was a high suspicion I was dealing with PCOS. We discussed that if I ever wanted to become pregnant, we could discuss treatments that would help me get there - but for now, I was given a little pink pill that would give me a period.

As time passed, I became more embarrassed with my thinning hair and awkward hair growth under my chin, upper lip, belly and chest. I began obsessively checking if I had any emerging hair that I could pluck. This led to angry red bumps and ingrown hairs, which in turn led to scars from me scraping at my skin to get rid of the hair. What 21-23 year old woman has to take a razor to their face daily? I hated it. I didn't feel normal.

At my old job, I was a grocery cashier, and I usually wore my hair up in a ponytail. It was a quiet night, and all of a sudden the cashier working across from me started giggling. I asked her what was so funny, and she said: “From the light, it looks like you’re balding.” I laughed along and played it off as “yeah – it’s the light,” but inside I was distraught. I remember thinking about it my entire drive home, and when I opened the door and my mom asked me how my day was, I just broke down and started bawling immediately. Was that how people saw me? Was it that noticeable? Were people staring at me?

I continued living day by day with the daily struggles of these symptoms. Eventually, my doctor retired, and a new one took over their practice. During my first initial check-up, they asked if the birth control was to prevent pregnancy, and I said yes, but also to help regulate my periods. I had to reexplain my entire situation to someone new. They said they were surprised I wasn’t sent for any blood work or an ultrasound to make sure that that’s what the issue was. That being said, I quickly received a couple referral forms to get some blood work and an ultrasound done.

Now, I’ve had blood work done before, so that wasn’t an issue, but the ultrasound was new territory for me. That was probably the longest and most uncomfortable drive to the clinic and I’m sure my boyfriend wasn’t the happiest with me constantly saying: “I have to pee! I have to pee!” The abdominal ultrasound was no problem! The technician was super friendly, and asked what I was there for – and when I said that my doctor was investigating the possibility of PCOS, she looked at my sheet and said, “Oh… well usually there’s another part to this test.” I was slightly confused until she explained that I needed a second ultrasound and it would need to be internal. Internal?! This was the last thing I wanted to do; however, in order to figure out what the problem was, I had nowhere to go but forward. The technician finally let me empty my extremely full bladder, and we did the second part of the ultrasound. Easy peasy – lemon squeezy.

I waited a couple weeks for my doctor to call me with the results, and low and behold, it showed that I had high levels of testosterone and DHEA-S (types of hormones that contribute to PCOS). In addition, the ultrasound showed that I had bilateral cysts – which in simple language are cysts, on both sides of my ovaries. None of this came as a surprise to me, but at LAST I could put a name to this.

My doctor referred me to a gynecologist who specializes in PCOS. I’m not sure what they will be able to do for me, if anything.

This is the current progress of my journey thus far. Whether things change for me or not – I don’t know. But I look forward to seeing what my body can do, and how positive outcomes can come my way.