When you picture university medical centres, you might think of stereotypical student complaints. Alcohol induced injuries, fresher’s flu, emergency contraception – the consequences of a certain type of student lifestyle. But there may also be students like me in the waiting room, who have “invisible illnesses”.
An invisible illness is defined as an “illness that lasts a year or longer, limits activity and may require ongoing care”. It could be anything, from chronic pain, to much more serious lifelong conditions such as lupus and ME.
They are illnesses you may have heard about, but when you look at someone who suffers from one of them, such as I do, you don’t see anything wrong. We might come across as lazy, or not game to do things. We might get seemingly unfair treatment, such as essay extensions. But if there’s one thing I hope to achieve from writing this, it’s that you might begin to understand how hard it is to live with an invisible illness.
In my first two years of university, I felt no different from my friends. I would drink my Saturday nights away without a second thought and attend all my lectures.
But in my final year of university, I began to experience discomfort in my lower abdomen and a frequent urge to use the bathroom almost every 30 minutes. I trotted off to the medical centre expecting a course of antibiotics and a long rest in bed. But the results came back negative. I sat impatiently in the offices of various doctors multiple times that week, as they tried to figure out what condition I might have. But to no avail.
Over the next few months the symptoms of my condition – later diagnosed as an over-active bladder – worsened, and soon I was not only battling the physical side of my illness, but also crippling anxiety. My parents decided I should consult a urologist, and travelling to London in order to see a specialist not only meant that I had to miss multiple lectures, but that I was exhausted from my twice-weekly trips.
The social side of university was also disrupted for me. I was told that alcohol would worsen the problem, so I had to abstain from nights out with housemates, or pretend to drink in front of people I didn’t feel comfortable sharing my secret with. Some friends began to grow hostile about how I was acting. I turned to online forums, desperately seeking someone who might understand the pain and anxiety that I was going through. It was there that I met Rosie.
Rosie Knight, a graduate from Cardiff university, developed an incurable condition called interstitial cystitis a couple of years ago. This widely unrecognised condition renders the sufferer with a constant urge to use the bathroom, and in some cases causes pain associated with this. She says: “For me, the hardest thing wasn’t the lectures or the assessments - my tutors were understanding and supportive. It was the social aspect of university. My friends found it difficult to understand that I couldn’t always participate in nights out and I felt alienated because of it.”
Anna Thomas*, who studies at the University of Birmingham, also says her condition affected her relationship with friends. “Having a health condition at uni has made me feel like an inconvenience,” she says. “I hate that I feel like I am a burden on my friends if I don’t want to go out or I come home early. Being away from home and family, who know how to help me, is difficult. But having friends with me from school and home has been amazing and they have been really supportive.”
When it comes to illnesses like ours, I believe there’s misunderstanding among lecturers and students. But with the help of family and some understanding friends, I didn’t have to suffer alone. I’m proud to say that despite my condition, I graduated with a 2:1 in July 2015.
* Name has been changed.
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