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# My Fibroid Diagnosis Changed the Way I See Myself and My Body
- URL: https://www.tawnymagazine.com/my-fibroid-diagnosis-changed-the-way-i-see-myself-and-my-body/
- Published: 2026-10-26T02:27:13.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-26T02:27:13.000Z
- Description: What started as an unexpected discovery during a hospital stay turned into a life-changing diagnosis. One woman's journey with fibroids, adenomyosis, and learning to advocate for her health.
- Author: Haley Van Horn
- Tags: Women's Health, Health & Wellness, Personal Stories, All Lifestyle, All Features

I’ve been lucky with my health for most of my life. That all changed in 2026\. I went from never having been hospitalized or undergoing surgery to four hospitalizations and two surgeries in one year. My health journey has been complicated, but I’m finally getting answers.

My fibroids were discovered by accident. In February, I was hospitalized with obstructive jaundice caused by complications with my gallbladder. In March, I had emergency surgery for the same reason. Without my gallbladder, I thought I was in the clear. But life has a funny way of proving you wrong, doesn’t it?

In April, I was hospitalized again with obstructive jaundice. Without my gallbladder, my team of doctors was confused. I underwent several tests over multiple days in the hospital. A CT scan didn't reveal anything blocking my bile ducts, but while my doctors continued investigating, I decided to read the report in MyChart.

That's when I discovered an 8-centimeter tumor in my uterus.

No one had told me about it. I found out by reading my own medical records. Seeing the word "tumor" sent me into a panic. Who wouldn't immediately think of cancer? Suddenly, my already complicated health situation felt even more terrifying.

I had to request that a doctor speak with me about the tumor. I understood that the immediate concern was my liver. My enzymes were through the roof, and my symptoms were unbearable. Still, I couldn't stop thinking about the mass. I needed answers.

Unfortunately, the CT scan hadn't provided a clear enough image, so my doctors ordered a transvaginal ultrasound, which I was already dreading. To make matters worse, a transporter woke me up at 4 a.m. to wheel me down the hall for the procedure. Nothing says good morning like a vaginal ultrasound!

The experience was unpleasant, but not terrible. Thankfully, the ultrasound technician was wonderful. She had performed several ultrasounds on me during my previous hospitalizations, so I felt comfortable with her. Of course, technicians can't discuss their findings before a doctor reviews the results. I returned to my room and tried to fall asleep, but my mind was racing.

Later that day, one of my doctors filled me in. I had uterine fibroids, and quite a few of them. The largest measured 8 centimeters, and they weren't even sure how many there were. That one fibroid alone was roughly the size of a grapefruit.

I was referred to a specialist while my doctors focused on getting my liver healthy enough for discharge.

Once I returned home, I began researching fibroids. Initially, I thought I'd been living symptom-free. Then I started learning how they could affect the body, and suddenly, everything made sense.

I was constantly peeing, especially at night. I'd blamed it on drinking too much water before bed, but waking up four times a night wasn't exactly normal for me. Sex was painful, something I'd brushed off as part of getting older. My periods were heavy, which society often conditions women to accept as normal. I also experienced strange leg pain, which I learned could sometimes be associated with fibroids pressing on nearby nerves.

My pants felt tighter, and I'd assumed I'd gained weight despite being active before my health issues. I was exhausted, with barely enough energy to get through the day. Suddenly, I depended on naps when I'd never been able to take them before.

All those little things I'd dismissed were starting to add up.

For the first time, I understood that symptoms I'd ignored might be connected to a medical condition I didn't even know I had. I was eager to meet with a specialist and figure out what came next.

However, if you live in the United States, you know how difficult it can be to get an appointment with a primary care physician, let alone a specialist. My insurance had to approve the referral, and then I was placed on a waiting list.

By June, two months after discovering my fibroids, I finally had my appointment. Surgery appeared to be my best option, but I couldn't schedule it yet. First, I needed an MRI to get a clearer picture of my uterus.

It took until July to schedule the imaging. At that point, I was beyond frustrated with the healthcare system. I just wanted it all to be over.

After my MRI, we discovered I had more fibroids than initially thought. However, their locations didn't fully explain my intense, unpredictable bleeding. That's when I received another diagnosis: [adenomyosis](https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/adenomyosis/symptoms-causes/syc-20369138?ref=tawnymagazine.com).

I'd never heard of it before. I was familiar with endometriosis, but adenomyosis is different. It occurs when tissue similar to the uterine lining grows into the muscular wall of the uterus. It can cause heavy bleeding, severe pelvic pain, painful intercourse, and an enlarged uterus. Naturally, I was experiencing many of those symptoms.

Another chronic condition. Just what I needed.

While several treatments can help manage fibroids and adenomyosis, a hysterectomy is considered a definitive treatment for adenomyosis. However, my specialist encouraged me to wait before taking that step.

She explained that some research has found associations between hysterectomy at a younger age and increased long-term cardiovascular risks. [One Mayo Clinic study](https://newsnetwork.mayoclinic.org/discussion/research-finds-hysterectomy-alone-associated-with-increased-long-term-health-risks/?ref=tawnymagazine.com) found that women who underwent hysterectomy with ovarian conservation at age 35 or younger had a 4.6-fold increased risk of congestive heart failure and a 2.5-fold increased risk of coronary artery disease.

Those statistics blew my mind.

Although the study doesn't establish that hysterectomy causes these conditions, my specialist felt it was worth considering before proceeding with such a major surgery.

She also discussed how much remains unknown about women's health and how research gaps can complicate treatment decisions. Go figure. Women get the short end of the stick yet again.

As a precaution, she recommended removing the fibroids instead of proceeding directly with a hysterectomy. After hearing her concerns, I agreed.

But once again, the American healthcare system had other plans.

By the time I tried scheduling my surgery in late July, the earliest available appointment was in December. I'd finally felt close to a solution, only to face another setback.

My specialist explained that she was one of only two specialists in my area, splitting her time between patient appointments and surgeries. She worked tirelessly, but there simply weren't enough resources to meet the demand.

I felt for her, but I was frustrated for myself, too.

By then, I had become much more aware of my symptoms. Knowing I'd have to endure several more months of discomfort was defeating. And fibroid removal wasn't necessarily a permanent solution. Fibroids can recur after surgery, meaning I might eventually face additional treatment.

The uncertainty left me feeling hopeless.

I started watching TikToks and reading Reddit posts from women dealing with similar issues. Hearing their stories, especially from those who'd had relatively smooth surgeries and recoveries, was comforting. For the first time in months, I began feeling hopeful again.

My fibroids have taught me more about my body in less than a year than I'd learned in decades. They've made me more compassionate toward myself, especially when it comes to my appearance and physical limitations.

I'd spent so much time blaming myself for things that were largely outside my control. The exhaustion, bloating, discomfort, and changes in my body weren't simply personal shortcomings. They were symptoms that deserved attention.

Most importantly, this year has taught me to stop ignoring my health and pretending everything is fine.

My body had been sending me signals all along, but I'd convinced myself they were normal. While occasional discomfort is part of life, persistent or worsening pain shouldn't automatically be dismissed.

If you're reading this and can relate, I can't recommend getting checked out enough. Once you have answers, you have hope.

My surgery hasn't happened yet, but I'm optimistic. I can't guarantee everything will be sunshine and roses afterward, but I do know that understanding my body has helped me feel more connected to myself.

Women's health deserves more attention, and I've heard far too many stories about women whose symptoms were dismissed or blamed on anxiety. Advocating for yourself can be intimidating, but it's one of the most important things you can do.

Before this year, I would force myself to power through exhaustion and pain. Now, I understand that sometimes the best thing I can do is rest. I've learned to be kinder to my body rather than criticizing it for things I can't control.

Health problems are scary, especially when they involve hospitalizations, surgeries, and endless uncertainty. But discovering my chronic conditions has changed how I care for myself.

I'm finally learning to listen to my body, respect its limits, and give it the compassion it deserves.

**And after everything this year has thrown at me, that feels like a pretty good place to start.**