It’s a Friday afternoon and I’m wearing a blue hospital gown. I’m about to receive an internal ultrasound, one of many I’ve had in my adult life. But the weight of this one feels different.
Just 48 hours earlier I was at the Royal Women’s Hospital in Melbourne. The night before said hospital trip, I’d woken up to searing pain in my abdomen. It was my period, of course. While being awoken by cramps isn’t new for me, this pain ws extreme.
Like clockwork, I got up, made myself a hot water bottle, downed two pain killers and crawled back to bed, crying in pain, waiting for it to subside. But this time it didn’t. Instead, the pain became more and more intense.
My ovaries felt like they were on fire. The pain was what I imagine being sliced hip to hip is like. I was in so much pain that nausea arrived, and like many women who have been medically gaslit and told these symptoms are “common”, I said to myself that I’d only go to hospital if I actually vomited.
The litmus tests we put on ourselves as women are ridiculous. And while I know it’s from fear of being told it’s “just” period pain, I felt validated when experts said in the coming days that I should’ve just gone. I wasn’t crazy.
Eventually, I managed to fall asleep after hours of tossing and turning. The next day, abnormally heavy bleeding landed me in the hospital and two days later, there I was, laying on a recliner with a cold, plastic, alien-like probe inside of me asking if this likely cyst rupture (and subsequent internal bleeding) would impact my fertility.
Polycystic ovarian syndrome has been a part of my life for the past decade. But now, as I’m inching closer to my 30s, things feel different. The stakes are higher. The hormonal condition affects up to one in 10 women and people with ovaries in their reproductive years. It can cause irregular and painful periods, acne, excessive hair growth, fatigue and weight fluctuations. All of these things, in turn, impact not just your fertility but your everyday life.
“Polycystic ovarian syndrome has been a part of my life for the past decade.” (Image: Jasmine Wallis/Instagram)
PCOS can also increase your risk of other medical conditions including diabetes, cancer and high blood pressure.
While I’m not 100 per cent sure if I want children given… the world, I don’t want to be out of the race before I’ve even begun lacing my running shoes.
This was why, when I saw the headlines about Florence Pugh’s Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and endometriosis diagnosis, I was spurred on to investigate things further.
On Tuesday, Florence was a guest on She MD, a weekly podcast hosted by OBGYN Dr. Thaïs Aliabadi, and women’s advocate and influencer Mary Alice Haney.
“I just had this sudden feeling that I should go and get everything checked,” Florence explained.
During her OBGYN visit, Dr. Aliabadi — who was also Florence’s treating doctor — asked her if she’d “ever had an egg count”.
“And I was like, ‘No, what do you mean? I’m so young. Why do I need an egg count?’” said Florence.
The actress was then diagnosed with PCOS and endometriosis, both of which would explain her pain and both of which can impact fertility.
“It was just so bizarre because my family are baby-making machines. My mum had babies into her 40s, my gran had babies throughout …. she had so many kids as well,” she said.
“I just never assumed that I was going to be in any way different and that there was going to be an issue with it.”
“Then of course, I learned completely different information, [at] age 27, that I need to get my eggs out and do it quickly, which was just a bit of a mind-boggling realisation.”
During the episode, Florence also revealed that when she took the findings from her American OBGYN back to her London doctor, she was medically gaslit.
“When I told her about the things that I’d found out…she shook her head and she said, ‘Well, that’s just not possible,’” Florence recalled. “I said, ‘What do you mean?’ She goes, ‘You don’t have PCOS…’”
Florence continued: “She said, ‘No, you can’t possibly have that. How old are you?’ And I said 27. She goes, ‘No, you’re fine. And even if you do have it, you’ll be fine to have kids well into your 30s.’ And in that room, I got shut down, told that I was essentially making things up, and that my gynaecologist in America was making things up. And that even if I did have it, I shouldn’t really be worried.”
Hearing Florence’s story, my mind rewound back to the sonographer’s chair. Despite using lifestyle choices (healthy eating and exercise) to get my periods back to some sort of regularity, he showed me live images of my internal organs on the screen and exclaimed, “Wow! Your ovaries are still very polycystic.”
I felt like a failure. Like I hadn’t been trying hard enough to help my body and give it what it needs in order to heal itself. With a shaky voice I asked, “Will this impact my fertility?”
“Look, don’t wait another decade to start trying for a family but early thirties is fine,” he replied with a casualness that made it seem like my future wasn’t hanging in the balance.If there’s anything having reproductive conditions has taught me (I also have adenomyosis and suspected endo), it’s that sometimes you can’t take expert advice as gospel.
Due to medical misogyny, conditions like PCOS and endometriosis are chronically (ha) understudied and underdiagnosed. When you are eventually diagnosed, you’re often handed the contraceptive pill and told to come back when you want kids.
Despite PCOS being a common condition, present in 12–21% of women of reproductive age, up to 70% of women with PCOS remain undiagnosed. Those who are eventually diagnosed often have to go through a jigsaw puzzle of health experts in order to find relief.
But, hearing Florence’s story of her experienced (and probably very expensive) OGBYN urging her to get an egg count made me want to take my conditions – and my fertility – back into my own hands as well.
In the new year, I’ll be getting my egg levels tested. At Monash IVF in Melbourne they run a range of hormone and blood tests to check your fertility. It’s around $379 out of pocket (or $458 if you want your male partner tested as well).
Similar to Florence being able to freeze her eggs straight away, this is a huge financial privilege and one that shouldn’t just be accessible to those with disposable incomes.
I have no idea what I’ll discover about my fertility in 2025, but every time I attend an expensive GP or nutritionist appointment and hand over my credit card, I think of all of the women for whom this is so unfairly inaccessible.
While we’re not all in a position to drop tens of thousands on our health and have access to the best OBGYNs in the world, by Florence sharing her story, perhaps less GPs will dismiss young women’s symptoms and similar to myself, more women will be able to take control of not just their fertility – but their future.
Lead image: Getty Images/Supplied
The post Like Florence Pugh, I Also Have PCOS. Here’s Why Her Story Made Me Book In For An Egg Count appeared first on PEDESTRIAN.TV .
