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I just didn't feel like myself. After fighting for years, I finally got my haemochromatosis diagnosis. It’s bittersweet. You feel a sense of relief, but that is marred by unanswered questions. I was given the name of something, then left a bit in the wilderness.

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I’d convinced myself that my fatigue and lethargy were symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder. I didn’t know there could be a diagnosis of anything in terms of iron other than anaemia. After my GP told me I had genetic haemochromatosis, it took 3 years to see hepatology.

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I was unsure what everything meant and what the future had in store for me. But at least I knew why I was tired, why my hands and fingers were sore, why my periods had stopped.

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I wouldn’t want my children to get to the stage I got to in life not knowing. But then, I was quite fortunate to be diagnosed in my thirties. I think women are only diagnosed later in life whenever they’ve reached menopause.

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I couldn’t imagine going two or three decades or more not knowing.

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I started altruistic blood donations because I wasn’t in a venesection programme at that stage. Before your donation and after is like night and day; your energy levels are higher, and you probably have a more optimistic outlook on life!

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The diagnosis has been the start of my journey, a journey I am still learning to navigate.

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