Triggered.
Triggered - to have an intense emotional reaction after encountering a reminder of a traumatic experience
The UK government released a report today from the Joint Commission on Human Rights. They said that Black women are 5 times more likely to die during childbirth than white women. One would expect this to be the cause of outrage for everyone, but lo and behold, we have contention about “the race card”.
I’m triggered because I’m currently recovering from my 2nd reproductive health surgery and it should have never got to this point. Like many of us, when I first had symptoms I tried to ride them out. It was only when my pain became more regular and I started vomiting a black fluid that I decided to go to hospital.
The first doctor who I asked about this pain made no attempts to hide his irritation. He barked that there were people with more serious issues than me, so I should wait for someone else to see me.
The second doctor said I had food poisoning and sent me home with Paracetamol.
The third doctor saw that I was a student and assumed I had urinary tract infection. He gave me a lecture before assessing me to rule it out. Upon finding that I did not have UTI, he simply sent me home.
It wasn’t until I had a Black woman doctor that I got tested and diagnosed for one of my issues – turns out I needed emergency surgery to save my fallopian tubes.
My second issue was only diagnosed after a good year of persistent pain post-op. It turns out I had fibroids which had been discovered during my previous keyhole surgery, but the doctors had not revealed this to me.
My condition worsened after years of receiving oestrogen-based prescriptions. In addition, most of the food and alcohol that we consume contains oestrogen. Whenever I asked if I should change my diet, the doctors categorically said no. I eventually started following American research, where there have been more efforts to understand the causes of fibroids.
In the UK, I was fortunate to meet a PhD researcher at a Fibroid Support Forum, who is studying fibroids as part of her research into premenstrual syndrome. While this phenomenal white lady was interviewing me, she told me with tears in her eyes that this condition is under researched because it is a “Black woman’s issue”. We aren’t the only ones that suffer from it, but we are most associated with it.
That being said, we aren’t safe in the States either. Just 4 yrs ago, a USA study found that 50% of medical students (i.e future doctors and healthcare professionals) and residents believed that “Black people do not feel the same pain as white people” because we “have thicker skin and our nerves don’t act the same”.
It is because of this mindset that the nurses thought I was being lazy a few weeks ago when I couldn’t move out of my hospital bed after surgery. It turned out that my blood count was severely low and my surgeon had to come in on his day off to order a lifesaving blood transfusion. We are CONTINUOUSLY at risk.
The idea that we should put up and shut up when it comes to Black women’s healthcare is oppressive and it destroys lives. Dealing with a chronic reproductive health issue for 10 yrs would have ended me mentally were it not for the women and men in my support system.
Mad as it has been, my experience has been a walk in the park compared to the victims of maternal mortality. I’m at an age where my friends and cousins are starting families and I couldn’t fathom losing one of them because a doctor neglected to take them seriously.
It’s not enough to simply “hire Black” if the systems don’t change. As with any service that we pay for, we have the right to demand the same standard of research and healthcare as everyone else. We need metrics, accountability, adequate research and inclusive training.
We also need to hold the UK Government accountable for introducing targets that better serve our health needs. This starts with a target to end the disparity in maternal mortality.
