Two summers ago I spent a week in bed with unbearable cramps, stabbing lower back pain, a fever and vaginal bleeding. I was between periods, so it wasn’t my monthly visitor being a lousy guest. Freaked out, I made an immediate doctor’s appointment.

My MD (not my regular doctor – I don’t have a “regular” doctor thanks to my HMO; I just go see whoever’s available) was a mid-30s male who ran through a series of questions about my pain, my medical history and gave me a pelvic exam.

“Yep, you’re bleeding alright,” he announced. Duh. I didn’t need to strap my legs in stirrups to find that out. I wanted to know WHY I was bleeding and how to make it stop.

He sat me up and said, “If you were fifty I’d say there was a good chance you have cancer, but since you’re not I think you just have bad cramps.”

Okay, there are so many things wrong with that statement, least of which was that because I was thirty instead of fifty he could rule out cancer. But this guy was a doctor. An intimidating doctor, who knew way more than I did. So all I said was, “I can’t have cramps. I’m not on my period.”

He smiled and said, “It probably came early.”

I think I must have grimaced – I was in a lot of pain. Burning stabbing, sharp, blinding, angry pain. He patted me on the shoulder.

“Come on. It’s not that bad, is it?”

If I ever see this doctor again I’m going to give him a right hook to the groin and ask him the same question.

He scribbled a prescription for Vicodin and told me to consider getting rid of my period altogether by taking the Pill year-round (a recommendation that, judging by headlines, is all the rage this Fall). That, he claimed, should solve all my problems.

I promised to think about it and crawled home to bed, realizing after popping a couple pain killers that Mr. MD hadn’t even referred me to a gynecologist.

The next morning, still bleeding, still fevered, still in pain, I argued with a nurse practitioner until she wrangled me an afternoon appointment with a real gynecologist. This doctor (a middle-aged woman) took my pain seriously, frowned at my fever, and conducted an ultrasound. Turns out, I had cysts on my ovaries and the doctor diagnosed me with endometriosis, which is a disease affecting 15-20% of all women, according to WomensHealthMatters.ca. She recommended a dietary change, a new exercise routine and acupuncture. Endo isn’t curable, but my symptoms have subsided, I usually feel great, and most important – I know what those cramps are.