Last year, I experienced for myself how black women are ignored and gaslit in health care. My grandmother and mother dealt with chronic illness for as long as I can remember, so I’ve always had a front seat to the treatment they have received. However, it was still shocking when I experienced it for myself.

December 2022, I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s disease. Hashimoto’s disease is an immune disorder where the body creates antibodies that attack the cells of the thyroid, which causes the thyroid not to be able to make enough thyroid hormone. Months before December, I had done the usual blood work after an annual exam and my Thyroid Stimulating Hormone (TSH) levels were two times higher than the normal range. I contacted my doctor and was told I had nothing to worry about. In the months following, I started to experience fatigue, no matter how much rest I got, severe depression, sensitivity to the cold, dryness of the skin and hair, pain in my neck, and symptoms I couldn’t articulate until now. It wasn’t until about September, that the depression and fatigue became so severe I could barely leave the bed. Finally, I started missing periods, which is not normal for me, and knew something was wrong. 

At first, I called my ob/gyn and told her I had missed 2 periods and was starting to worry. All I was told was to continue taking my birth control as prescribed and to schedule an appointment, which wouldn’t be until January. Since the symptoms were worsening by the day, I scheduled the appointment but also sought answers elsewhere– the primary care physician who had ordered my blood work. Like my ob/gyn, I wouldn’t be able to see my PCP in person until January, so I scheduled a virtual appointment, at this point I wanted answers now. 

On the call with my PCP, I told her all the symptoms I was experiencing, how they were getting worse, and that I was missing periods. I was told that I was stressing too much and that this is what was causing me to miss periods and to schedule an appointment with my ob/gyn. The symptoms continued and again I missed another period. At one point my body was feeling so tired and in pain, so I went to urgent care. Of course, they didn’t help either and just told me that I was pregnant, despite a negative pregnancy test, and that there was nothing they could do for any of my symptoms. 

I was becoming desperate for answers at this point. I was so depressed, my symptoms were getting worse, and my grades were tanking. After much googling and help from my mother and boyfriend, I took a look again at my blood work, my TSH levels being this high had to mean something, so I scheduled another virtual appointment with my PCP. At the visit, I told her about my blood work and she finally agreed that my symptoms were unusual and that the TSH levels could possibly lead us to answers for why I was having them and she ordered blood work for my thyroid hormones to be looked at. My TSH levels were two times the normal range and my Thyroperoxidase (TPO) antibodies were more than 5 times the usual range. 

At the next visit with my PCP, I was told that because my TSH and TPO antibody levels were high, I more than likely had an autoimmune disease level called Hashimoto’s disease and I was prescribed medication.

After being on the medication for a month my symptoms had already started to get better. At last, I was being listened to and getting answers and solutions, but after how long and how many times being told I was stressing out about my condition and that there was nothing that could be done. Why did I have to tell my doctor my blood work was off and that it should be looked into when she is the one who signed off on it? 

Looking back on this whole experience, it makes me think what if I had a condition that was life-threatening and was ignored that many times? It honestly hurts my heart how black women are treated in health care. We deserve to be listened to and for our issues to be taken seriously. I hope that one day it truly reaches a point in health care where black women and their health issues/concerns are listened to and taken seriously.

Ever since I was a child, becoming a doctor has always been my dream/goal. Watching my mother and grandmother struggle with health issues and chronic illness has been my motivation to be in the healthcare field and help people like them. I’ve always been one-track-minded when it comes to becoming a doctor. In high school, I even joined a program catered towards kids who wanted to pursue a career in healthcare and help prepare them for college and the courses they would be taking.

My family has always been proud of me and encouraged me to pursue my goals. They’ve always expected nothing less of perfection regarding my grades and overall performance in school. I want to become the first doctor in my family and they want that for me as well. 

It wasn’t until last year when I became sick and this year when I had to care for my mother following brain surgery, that my grades dipped below that line of perfect and my performance in school was lacking. The whole time I couldn’t even focus on taking care of my health because I was so worried about how I was doing in school and what my family would think of me.

I didn’t start doubting my ability to achieve my goals of doing well in my undergraduate year and making it to medical school until this year. I’ve worked so hard and I know I shouldn’t be so hard on myself, but honestly, this doubt has in a way uprooted my self-worth. 

I am slowly learning not to quantify my self-worth based on how well I am doing in school and how much that is pleasing other people, but at times it can be hard. It’s those moments while I’m on the phone with my grandparents and they mention how I’ll be able to help my grandmother with her knee when I become an orthopedic surgeon, or how successful I’ll be when I become a doctor and how proud of me they’ll be that I find myself fighting back wanting to tell them I’m struggling mentally I’m not sure if I even want to be a doctor anymore or if I’m worthy or becoming a doctor, or if I deserve to receive their praises or for them to be proud of me. 

It wasn’t until these last two weeks that I had stress-induced muscle spasms and migraines that I finally decided I was going to ensure I put focus on my mental, physical, and emotional health.  I cannot be consumed with what other people think of me, even if it is family members. I have to live my life for me.

TW: Rape culture

When Sexyy Red’s sex tape was leaked, to say I was disgusted with the response of the internet is an understatement. Sexyy Red is a female rapper whose lyrics and social media usually center around topics of sex and have a sexual nature. Now to me, this is not outlandish, women have been making sexual music for forever.; Men AND women have made sexual music for forever. 

When a video of Sexyy Red having sex with a partner was leaked, WITHOUT HER CONSENT, the comments and reactions from the internet were absolutely disgusting. Comments were made about her body and her “performance” in the video. I wasn’t surprised at the fact that comments like this were made, I was surprised and taken aback at the way these comments were made as if she deserved to have a video of her having sex released, without her consent, because she makes sexual music. I was also taken aback by people on the internet feeling entitled to make crude comments about her body and what she decides to do with her sexual partners. Specifically, people were referring to the lyrics in Sexyy Red’s Poundtown “My coochie pink, My bootyhole brown” to make comments about how she was lying about the color of her genitalia when obviously we all know what she was talking about. 

These are the kinds of incidents that continue to perpetuate rape culture. A man leaks a video of him having sexual intercourse with a popular female rapper without her consent and because there is this hate towards women, especially black women, she is offered no protection and he is not condemned for his actions. In fact, he is encouraged because she “deserves” for that to happen to her because she portrays herself as sexual in her music.; The classic “what did she do to deserve it?” *insert eye roll*

Though I am not surprised at something like this happening, it is still exhausting seeing misogyny/misogynoir operate clearly. It is a reminder of how much work really needs to be done on so many levels and scales to uproot, challenge, and dismantle misogyny/misogynoir.

7 years ago, my grandmother went in to receive a colonoscopy. A colonoscopy is an outpatient procedure, meaning you can go home the same day.  My grandmother had health issues and dealt with chronic illnesses, so it was a routine procedure for her to get. It was so routine that my family and I didn’t even think twice when she mentioned getting it done.

We were visiting our family friends, I was sitting on the couch with my father and my brother, our family friends sitting across from us. My father had just asked them to turn down the music we were listening to and I could see the look of seriousness on his face, different from just 5 minutes ago. He’d received a call from my mother. During my grandmother’s colonoscopy, the surgeon punctured her intestines, causing blood and intestinal fluid to leak into her abdomen and eventually cardiac arrest. My grandmother’s heart had stopped three times and she had lost significant amounts of oxygen to her brain, resulting in brain damage.

The physicians didn’t believe my grandmother would make it or even that she would be where she is today. My grandmother had to relearn how to walk, how to talk, how to eat, etc.. It was through being with my grandmother through all this that I learned how unfit and unaccommodating our society really is to people with disabilities. 

As Sunaura Taylor described in “Examined Life” by Judith Butler and Sunaura Taylor, at what point between health and death are disabled people viewed as human. When people refuse to help my grandmother in the store, or the looks and comments she receives whenever we’re in public, makes me vehemently question why? Why is my grandmother dehumanized and made to seem as though she’s making other people feel uncomfortable just by existing? She is still a human being who deserves respect. Those with disabilities are human beings who deserve respect and deserve to participate in society. When will my grandmother be “allowed” to participate in society?