Isa Abbott, Opinion Editor
I wake up nauseated, my lower stomach in excruciating pain, and a wave of heat hits my body. Desperately, I try to reach for my ibuprofen, but it is too far. I take a deep breath in. I push myself off of my bed with all of the strength I have. I take a breath out. I wince in pain as I limp to the other side of my desk. I take two pills and I lay back in bed for two more excruciating hours. In tears, I am unable to move myself even an inch. I cannot speak. I cannot even breathe without further pain. It takes my body over two hours to respond to the pain medicine, and that is when I can begin my day. As though nothing happened. And no one can even see it.
No one sees the amount of pain and suffering women go through every month. I once had someone ask me if periods were actually that bad, since they had never heard anyone complain about it before. The reality is that women, throughout history, have not just been silenced in their voting rights or job equality, but also in their rights to healthcare. In addition, our “complaints” are seen as “taking up too much space” and “dramatic.” No one takes women’s health seriously enough. We would rather place billions of dollars toward bombing Iran and putting people in concentration camps than funding further research on women’s reproductive health. And of course, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is more focused on how much sugar is in a Dunkin’ drink than helping women balance anti-inflammatory diets to lessen their period cramps.
Right now, and throughout history, privileged male power takes priority over women’s health, and that is terrifying to me. We create life, and for most, it feels as though we do everything for everyone. We are expected to show up to classes and participate every day, even though our bodies and brains have such little energy. As women who are employed, we are seen as unreliable and lazy if we take a few days off because we cannot bear to get up in the morning.
Like every student at Denison, I am a part of several clubs and have several jobs, all while balancing an intense course load. Every day, I have a list of things for me to do, but once a month, I do not have the energy to get to them. Instead of allowing myself to rest or feel better, I begin to beat myself up for not doing the things I was supposed to. “I haven’t done enough,” I think to myself. But that is ridiculous. Of course I have. My body has been fighting to stay awake, fighting the pain and fighting hormonal imbalances that strip every ounce of energy from my soul.
What is most unfortunate is that women on this campus, and in general, cannot always access accommodations or healthcare as easily as others. For example, the Academic Resource Center makes your provider fill out a form to help provide specific accommodations for the student. While this is a completely valid and necessary form of information, not every student here can afford to have a doctor fill out that form, as it often costs extra money to do so. Once, I was told to “get a better healthcare provider” so I could access accommodations for my health without having to pay so much money. However, what many fail to understand is how inaccessible healthcare can be for women and people in general.
According to the Commonwealth Fund, only 25% of women rated their quality of healthcare to be “excellent” or “very good.” You also have to consider which healthcare providers will take your insurance. In addition, it can take over six months to access a gynecologist who can even refer you to do further tests on a patient’s health. After the referral, help from the next doctor can also take up to several months, making the process of accommodations nearly year-long. When you’re an out-of-state student, these doctor’s appointments become more difficult to attend, as you sometimes have to miss classes to be able to visit a doctor in your home state or your actual medical provider, which would also reside in your state. This costs your time and your money for travels, as well as your grades.
Lastly, as a woman, you are forced to compromise your safety for a pill that will possibly, but not a guarantee, take away your pain for a week a month. “You’re just refusing options,” people tell me. But within the huge booklet of side effects for birth control pills, what is not emphasized enough is that it is a Group 1 carcinogen, meaning it puts you at a higher risk of getting cancer, right next to daily use of tobacco and alcohol. I’m not refusing options, I’m limited to options. There are hardly any other medications for women to help control hormonal issues or chronic illnesses such as PCOS or Endometriosis. Other medications include similar side effects to birth control, which can cause mental and physical health issues for some women.
So, once a month, I lay in my bed, pondering why my grades, my energy, my soul, my body, my money and my time is never taken seriously enough. I don’t think it’s that people do not see me, but that people refuse to see me and other women’s struggles. It is easier to conform to a world in which we pretend that everything is OK, and that we are not silently suffering. However, I don’t want to be stuck in silence, waiting for something to be different, waiting for someone to finally see what I’ve been going through.
During women’s history month, I think it might be best to challenge what we conform to every day. Stop telling yourself that you’ve not done enough. Stop telling yourself that you have to push through the pain. Stop going about your day as though nothing has happened. The less we open up and lobby for our struggles as women, the more likely we are to stay in the same cycle of silence. This month, do not stay silent. Speak up for women’s reproductive rights.
Isa Abbott ‘28 is a politics and public affairs major from Indianapolis, Indiana.