💬 Dear Doctors: Stop Telling Women It’s Just Anxiety
- maryrburrell
- May 27
- 3 min read
Because I almost died from the thing you said was in my head.
Let’s talk about the elephant in the exam room.You know the one—where women show up scared, sick, and desperate for answers……and get handed a prescription for Xanax and told to calm down.
I was one of those women. Too many times.
One day, a doctor literally told me to jog in place during the appointment—as if I needed to prove I was really short of breath.So I did. I started jogging in place. And I immediately struggled. I struggled to breathe. My chest felt heavy.I glanced at the reflection in the paper towel dispenser and saw —my lips were turning blue.
And what did the doctor say?He had the audacity to tell me it was just anxiety and all in my head.
No oxygen check. No urgent tests. Just that same tired line: “You’re probably having a panic attack.”Really? How about not guessing—and running some actual tests?
Spoiler alert: It wasn’t in my head. It wasn’t a panic attack.Seven hours later—seven hours after that same appointment, in that same hospital—I was given a diagnosis:“Mrs. Burrell, you are dying. And we don’t know why.”
Oh really?Because I could’ve sworn you just told me it was all in my head.
Turns out it was fibrosing mediastinitis—a rare, idiopathic lung disease that creates scarring and was silently crushing my air ways. It was growing around the inside and outside of my pulmonary artery, slowly suffocating me.
And then came the kicker:“There’s no cure. No treatment. Most people who get this die within a year.”
Let that sink in.
I walked in asking for help.I was told to jog in place.And just hours later, I was handed a death sentence.
I wasn't overreacting.I was dying.And no one believed me—until it was almost too late.
The Cost of Not Being Believed
When doctors don’t listen—when they minimize our pain or assume we’re “just anxious”—they miss what’s really going on.And when the condition is rare? Forget it. You're written off before the labs are even drawn.
I know what it’s like to go home and cry after a doctor’s visit—not because I got bad news, but because I got no news.I got nothing but doubt. Silence. Dismissal.
They made me feel like I was the problem.
But let me be clear: you are not crazy. Your symptoms are real. And you deserve to be believed.
This Isn’t Just About Me
How many of you reading this were told it was “just anxiety” when it was:
A rare disease
An autoimmune disorder
Long COVID
Hormone imbalance
Asthma
Fibromyalgia
Fibrosing mediastinitis like me
Raise your hand if a doctor ever made you feel like you were being dramatic. 🙋🏽♀️Raise both hands if it delayed your diagnosis. 🙌
Medical Gaslighting Is Dangerous—Especially for Women
The odds are already stacked against us when it comes to being taken seriously in medicine.Add in a rare disease, and we might as well be invisible.
Women are more likely to:
Be misdiagnosed
Wait longer for diagnosis and treatment
Have symptoms brushed off as psychological
Be told to “relax” or “lose weight” instead of being investigated further
I Got a Second Chance… and a Purpose
Eventually, a handful of doctors did believe me.They looked closer. They ran the right tests. They asked better questions—and most importantly, they listened.
By then, things had gotten worse.I had to undergo open-heart surgery to bypass my pulmonary artery—a dangerous and complicated procedure that I barely survived.
There was no cure waiting on the other side.No easy fix.Just the quiet realization that I was still here—and that had to mean something.
But here’s the thing: I shouldn’t have had to almost die to finally be seen.
So now, I talk about it.Loudly. Publicly. Repeatedly.Because I know someone else is reading this and still wondering if they’re just “too sensitive” or “too dramatic.”
I'm here to tell you: you’re not!
💬 Have you ever been dismissed by a doctor? Told it was “just stress”? Misdiagnosed or ignored because your illness didn’t fit their textbook? Drop your story in the comments. I want to hear it. You’re not alone. And you’re not imagining it.
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