I was taken aback by his blunt reply.  I had been suffering from monthly pains since the age of eleven years old. When I turned seventeen, my doctor performed a diagnostic laparoscopy that revealed that the source of my pain was endometriosis.  Endometriosis is a condition in which parts of the uterus's lining stick inside the cervix, which causes pain during menstruation.  Before the diagnosis, my doctor had been trying unsuccessfully to treat my pain with pills and shots.  Unfortunately, the treatment for endometriosis typically involved the same things, so the diagnosis did not result in any different medical treatment. 

I did not want to deal with monthly pain until menopause, which would not occur for at least another twenty years or longer.  Then, when I turned twenty, one book on endometriosis gave me new hope.  It said some women with endometriosis had been helped by hysterectomies.  A hysterectomy is the removal of the uterus, which eliminates the monthly cycle as well as the woman's ability to bear children.  To me, it was the perfect answer.  My pain occurred mostly around and during the time of my cycle, and because I didn’t want children, the sterility was an added bonus for me. That is why I was shocked by my doctor's immediate refusal.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"You won't be able to have children."

"But I don't want children!"

"Oh, you're only sixteen years old," he said.  "Many women say that at that age, and they all change their minds."

Trying to control my anger, I argued that there must be some exceptions.  After all, I must be one of them, I explained, since I never, ever wanted children.  Then I reminded him of how my pain forced me to spend a week or two out of every month in bed.  Even if I did want children, how could I raise them under those conditions? Logic, however, was no match for prejudice.  His belief in the stereotypical myth that all young women are fickle and change their minds about having children was far too strong.  He was certain that I, too, would later decide I wanted children and regret my decision.  To him, a hysterectomy was a last resort to be performed only on women who had children already and were nearing menopause.

I don’t want to be too critical of my doctor, because at age twenty, I won the battle that I had been fighting with him since age sixteen; he performed the surgery that now enables me to live a normal life.  Because of the hurdles I had to jump to get that surgery, I now realize how widespread the stereotype about women truly is.