STORY TWO
Dear Reader,
My first case of medical racism did not begin inside the doctor’s office. It happened inside the classroom. All my life, I’ve had ADHD and only found out this May. Now, a lot of the time, yes, it’s missed in people who were assigned female at birth. However, those people generally have the inattentive type of ADHD (traditionally referred to as just ADD), which is less obvious. I, however, have the combined presentation. So, I’m hyperactive (the stereotypical ADHD type) and inattentive. As I think back now, I remember all the times the teachers would tell my mom at parent-teacher conferences that I “zone out too much” or “talk way too much, which disrupts the class.” However, ADHD is typically thought of as a boys’ condition. Especially one for little white boys who never had home training. I had wanted to be evaluated for ADHD since I was in 6th grade, but my mom always said, “You don’t have it. My brothers have it, and you act nothing like them.”
When I was 16, I began having awful mood swings during my menstrual cycle. I couldn’t focus, and I’d cry for HOURS. I know now that ADHD causes emotional dysregulation in general. Still, in people with menstrual cycles: the lower estrogen during that time of the month causes lower dopamine (Low dopamine/inefficient dopamine processing in the brain causes ADHD). So, I went to the doctor. I had asked my mom to make it so that I could get birth control pills (I was in tune with my body enough where I knew I’d need a consistent hormone level). However, the doctor (a white Latina from the Dominican Republic) diagnosed me with a whole bunch of other stuff and did not tell me about it. (I looked at my medical records, and apparently, I have hyperandrogenism? Too many male hormones? I just had really hairy arms, okay). She prescribed me birth control pills, but she did not call them that. She said it was “hormone therapy.” A year later, on my visit, she told my mother in private that my pills prevent pregnancy as well, thinking my mom didn’t know that? But Did. Not. Tell. Me. The patient. (I mean, I already knew. Come on; it was my idea in the first place).
The pills were okay but did not solve my problems entirely. I’d be okay during the month, but when I took the placebo pills at the end of the pack, I’d be a hot mess. During the pandemic, it was so much worse because I was inside all the time. I got severe headaches. My mom tried to contact the doctor, but the doctor never responded. So, my mom made me an appointment with an actual gynecologist. The gynecologist took one look at my existing prescription and was baffled. She said, “This is SO high of a dose? We don’t start at that dosage?” Thankfully, she put me on a better birth control pill, and I’m doing much better.
I was also seeing a psychiatrist at this time for my supposed anxiety. I’d tried so many different SSRIs, but none of them worked, which baffled my psychiatrist. She thought I was bipolar and put me on bipolar medication. Which helped a little bit? However, she couldn’t understand what was wrong with me.
After this spring semester and taking 19 credits, I was losing my mind trying to regulate myself and stay focused while taking classes from my bedroom. I had talked to someone about ADHD and “wanting to try Adderall to see what would happen.” So, I tried some of their prescribed Adderall. It was like seeing a new color for the first time. I finally sought out an evaluation. I have it. That was my problem the entire time.
- Olivia D.
