As promised, I am going to occasionally share excerpts (though not the entire book) from my upcoming “The Teen’s Guide to PCOS.” I’d love to hear your comments and ideas!!!

Here’s the excerpt:

May you live in interesting but hormonally calm times.

INTRODUCTION

When I think back to my days as a teenager, the first phrase that comes to mind is an old curse: May you live in interesting times.

To say that our teenage years are “interesting” is putting the idea very lightly. I characterize mine more as being chaotic, confusing, emotional, busy, and full of expectation. But as I was pushing forward, working on my grades, marching with my high school band, spending time with friends, dealing with my latest unrequited crush or picking which college I wanted to attend, I was also dealing with a body that just didn’t seem to work right.

My mother is a nurse. I point this out because – as those of you with a medical professional in your family know – discussions about your body with that family member are usually very frank, very blunt, and are no-nonsense. This said, as a girl, I knew what was (supposedly) going to happen to my body long before it ever happened. When the girls were separated from the boys that fateful day in sixth grade, we were shuttled to different classrooms where we learned the wonders of our reproductive systems. While my peers were sitting there nervously snickering, I was bored to death. I wanted to stand up and say “my mother’s already covered this with me. Can I go now?” Instead, I suffered through it with everyone else, learning (again) about these body parts that until then had not really mattered to me. And during this excruciating experience, I was also reminded that sooner or later, at some point during my teenage years, I would start menstruating.

The start of menstruation, or “period” as some refer to it, is considered a rite of passage for most girls. My mother wasn’t overly excited, but tried to hit home with me that this change indicated I was growing up. Even now, years after I went through this rite of passage, I still remember vividly the day (and even the place) when I started menstruating. And though I knew it was going to happen eventually, it still freaked me out.

Fast-forward a few decades. Without hesitation, I really wish I knew then what I know now about my body. Why? Because in the years since I “became a woman,” this body and most specifically my hormones and my reproductive system, have really rebelled on me. It is for this reason I decided to write this book.

When I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome roughly seven years ago, I was told I had probably been dealing with it since I was a teenager. I dug up an old copy of my medical records from my youth and took a look at the notes from my first trip to the gynecologist, when I was 16 years old. Scribbled in a lower corner was “PCO?” At that moment, I almost instantly felt angry and sad. Not a soul had said a word to me about this until my diagnosis many years later. And it was the diagnosis that brought a great deal of clarity to the menstrual and cosmetic problems I had endured during my teenage years.

After I started menstruating, my periods were never “normal.” As I’m sure you’re aware of, junior high and high school just wasn’t the time when we all talked about our bodily issues. Trust me, when you get older, you lose the embarrassment. But I remember feeling like my body was rebelling against me and the only person I could talk to about it was my mother. The nurse. Ms. Clinical. She attacked every health issue from a very non-emotional place and the whole experience was incredibly emotional to me. But I digress.

I spent the better part of a decade in fear of doctors and hospitals, and in a self-imposed denial and ignorance about what was happening with my body. Then one very cold February night, I watched “Wit,” the movie adaptation of the play, starring Emma Thompson. The screenplay’s lead faces terminal ovarian cancer, and to say the movie scared me would be like saying the sky is blue. I was totally freaked out, and between then and my eventual PCOS diagnosis, I continued to be freaked out. I couldn’t sleep, I was exhausted all the time, I cried quite a bit, and was convinced that my ignorance was going to lead me to a very early grave.

Luckily, it wasn’t that dramatic.

For the past few years, I’ve let the idea of writing a book about PCOS especially for teens swim around in my brain. I’m a bibliophile. I love books, I love words, and I love pursuing MORE knowledge. And I always have. But the more I look, the more I realize this is a need that hasn’t been filled. Why aren’t there books for young women dealing with this hormonal circus act? To be frank, I don’t think there are any. Where the heck was a book like this when I was dealing with my first PCOS symptoms? I could’ve saved myself quite a bit of heartache, fear, and stupidity.

I don’t want you to go through that – so here it is, The Teen’s Guide to PCOS. This book is meant to be a comprehensive, frank, and if I can manage it, a funny perspective on polycystic ovarian syndrome. Throughout the book, you will also find stories from women who discovered their PCOS problems during their teenage years – just like you.

I would also love to hear your perspectives about the book – what else needs to be included? What can the book do without? What else do you want to see? Let me know – I’d be glad to hear it!

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So there you go! I’ll share a table on contents here soon. In the meantime, talk to me!!!