Fighting Without a Voice

I kept pushing for answers, only to be told repeatedly that my symptoms didn’t warrant concern. For most of this year, I have been struggling with lower limb paralysis. My symptoms were consistently overlooked and dismissed by medical professionals, who told me it was probably due to pre-existing health conditions, but something didn’t feel right. I knew my previous condition didn’t explain the extent of immobility I was experiencing, yet I was repeatedly told there was nothing anyone could do and that I simply needed to “deal with it.”

It took four attempts over four weeks for a doctor to examine me without immediate dismissal and suggest that my symptoms might be neurological. However, she also warned me that a referral to a neurologist would likely be rejected—and, unfortunately, she was right. The neurology department responded by directing her to refer me elsewhere, stating they didn’t see the need to take me on as a patient.

Despite my persistence over months, each dismissed referral felt like a denial of my reality, as my paralysis was labelled as ‘non-urgent.’ It was only last week that I discovered a neurological disorder was responsible for the paralysis. This was somewhat of a relief but also came with a wave of frustration. Neurological disorders like this are disabling, but with a timely diagnosis, they can be managed and treated effectively.

All the red tape within the NHS had led to prolonged suffering and a further decline in my mobility. Had I received answers sooner, I might not be in such a severe state today. Although I feel fortunate that I am able to advocate for myself, I feel exhausted by the constant need to fight just to be heard.

I couldn’t help but wonder why it took so long for my symptoms to be acknowledged and investigated. In my research and conversations with others, I discovered that some patients receive this diagnosis within days, while others are constantly dismissed and left waiting for months, or even years for their symptoms to be acknowledged.

This raises the question of what might be contributing to these differences within the NHS. One particularly unsettling factor is the outdated belief that women of colour are more resilient to pain or that our symptoms do not impact us as deeply. This stereotype affects how we are perceived and treated within healthcare, and it’s extremely harmful.

As a woman, navigating the NHS is already challenging, with our pain often dismissed as emotional or exaggerated. For women of colour, these biases are even more damaging, making the difference between receiving effective treatment and being left to deteriorate without any support.

I think about my own experience, at my most vulnerable, having lost the use of my legs. I repeatedly asked doctors to examine them, but instead, my blood pressure was checked, my bloods were taken, and I was sent home each time. It was only on the fourth visit that I was finally acknowledged by a female Muslim doctor who examined my legs and realised I had no function.

In the end, my experience reflects a troubling reality for many women of colour who are trying their best to navigate the healthcare system. We’re often left with nowhere to turn, especially in our most vulnerable moments, and this breaks my heart for the women who cannot advocate for themselves. I know how hard it is to fight to be heard when you’re at your weakest.

This journey has shown me that our voices are essential in challenging the harmful biases that exist in healthcare, so others don’t have to endure the same pain and dismissal that I, and many others, face. My hope is that by speaking out, we can push for a more compassionate healthcare system that treats everyone’s pain as valid, regardless of race, gender, or medical history.