GiveHerThePhD sans Endo
Because grad school is tough enough
Brace yourself. This is a lengthy one.
My grad school experience has completely changed my life. From the very beginning, it has been a journey full of trials and loops of fire. Dramatic? Yes, but these are definitely the facts. While I am grateful for the opportunity to pursue this degree and potentially uncover novel concepts in my field, I wonder if this journey was worth it. Immediately I would say no, it is definitely not worth it. However, not having completed the entire journey, the 10% optimistic in me says, maybe time will make it all worthwhile. The realist and pessimist in me agree that is wishful thinking. Based on what I’ve told you so far, I hope it’s clear that now more than ever, after enduring five years and counting of this, I am more than ready to witness this journey come to an end. That is why it was extremely devastating to me that not only had my mental health plummeted (again), but my physical health also took a major turn for the worst.
A month before my 28th birthday, I decided to look more into a health issue that I’ve had for the majority of my life. I have had terrible periods from the moment I started menstruation (more of my period story here). I saw the best recommended gynecologist (GYN) doctor attached to my institution’s health services clinic. For the first time, I had a doctor agree that my concern about my ‘bad periods’ could be a more serious matter. She ordered a number of different tests, mostly to determine if I had a bleeding disorder. She found nothing besides my usual low iron levels. She referred me to a hematologist (a blood doctor) who ran more specific blood work. The hematologist learned that I had incredibly low iron stores and was very concerned with the fact that my iron levels had not improved despite taking iron supplements for years. Simultaneously, I had several ultrasounds and an MRI at my very persistent GYN’s requests. Eventually they found small fibroids in my uterus (not surprising, due to my family history), as well as two large blood-filled ovarian cysts on each ovary, and a small lesion on the back of my uterus.
Although I was disappointed to learn of the ovarian cysts, I felt comforted that I was not dramatizing my ‘bad periods.’ My GYN informed me that she believed I might have endometriosis. While I had heard about endometriosis, I did not truly understand the seriousness of the disease. She explained that endometriosis was likely the case, given my history of painful and heavy periods, as well as the blood-filled cysts that she was sure were endometriomas (benign estrogen-dependent cysts). She advised waiting to see if the cysts resolved on their own; however, she warned that it could be unlikely. Unfortunately my cysts grew between my September, October and November ultrasounds. My GYN recommended that I have the cysts removed by surgery, which could also help confirm or disprove the endometriosis diagnosis.
I was scheduled for January of 2019 to see a GYN surgeon who had more expertise with removing cysts. My body had other plans. In late December of 2018, I finally got to go home to NY to visit my family just in time for New Years. I was excited about this trip, as I had just resubmitted revisions for a scientific journal article. The very night that I arrived to NY, I was struck with extremely sharp and stabbing pains in my lower pelvic area. My mother dragged me to the emergency room early the following morning and after hours of pain, ultrasounds, and waiting, I was prepped for emergency surgery (more on this experience later). The surgeons indeed found that I had endometriosis, noting several adhesions in various places, including on my small intestine. For reasons not known to me, they did not remove the cysts, but drained one of them. Despite the drama of having just endured emergency surgery and being diagnosed with endometriosis, one of my first thoughts was how inconveniencing this would be with regards to my main focus of getting out of graduate school ASAP.
Even when faced with a major physical health crisis, I was more concerned with getting out of graduate school. I was in my fifth year. I had just gotten close to meeting 1of 2 major graduation requirements and had a laundry list of plans and schemes for completing my second requirement by the end of 2019. Sadly my surgery in December of 2018 seemed to only worsen my endometriosis and my pain symptoms. Upon returning to school after the New Year holiday, I saw multiple specialists, including the GYN surgeon I was scheduled to see in January, an oncology GYN surgeon (she is a surgeon who mostly specializes in woman’s reproductive cancers), and an REI (reproductive, endocrine and infertility) GYN (she specializes in infertility work among other things). I worked with all of these specialists, including my original GYN, and my mental health care providers to come up with a treatment regimen.
I expressed to every single provider that I was a very mentally and physically exhausted fifth-year PhD student desperate to finish her degree sometime within her sixth year. Together we explored and tried several things of which I am still being treated with, including but not limited to: the mirena IUD, an oral birth control, anti-anxiety medications, antidepressants, diet changes, pelvic floor physical therapy, Orilissa (more on this later), as well as surgery July of 2019. Three months post-surgery and I am here to say, my endo pain and flare ups are at a minimum due to some of my medications; however, it is clear that these medications are solely masking my symptoms. I know this because I will experience flare ups even after one day of a missed pill.
I can’t tell you that I’m extremely hopeful, but my will to get PhinisheD has not died down, despite it all. I am in my sixth-year and I am still working towards finishing within this school year. I have several traumatic pain experiences that often make me wonder whether completing this journey is doable for me. I often regret having my surgeries, but I can’t begin to imagine the pain or discomfort my body would have been in had I decided against surgery. Getting a STEM PhD is hard enough without having to manage mental illnesses and endometriosis, yet here I am. I am sharing my story to show that it might actually be possible. I will revisit the idea of whether this journey is actually worth it. It’s a day-to-day process. I wake up and I show up to lab and do my best to keep my mental and physical well-being in mind while managing my work load. It should go without saying, but there’s no PhD if mentally and physically I am unwell.
I just need to remember that fact.
Thanks for reading!