Monday night’s 4 Corners investigation into endometriosis surgery landed like a gut punch for many women. The surgeon at the centre of public reporting was involved in my care. This week has reopened a chapter I fought hard to close.
This week, endometriosis patients are holding two truths at once.
Sadness. For women who are directly affected by what’s being publicly reported. For anyone who trusted, consented, underwent surgery, and is now living with questions they never asked to carry.
And anger. Real anger. Because one story, one clinician, one flashpoint can create a ripple that makes it harder for the rest of us to access safe, timely, specialised care.
Monday night’s 4 Corners investigation into endometriosis surgery has done exactly that. The surgeon, currently the subject of public reporting, was involved in my care. And something inside me changed.
Because when trust in women’s healthcare is publicly shaken, it doesn’t stay on the television. It moves into the body. It sits in your chest at 3am. It drags you back through old memories you worked years to put down.
Endometriosis is already a disease that trains you into hypervigilance.
Before you ever get to an operating theatre, many patients spend years trying to be believed. You get told your scans are normal. That it’s stress. That it’s just a bad period. You learn to downplay your own pain because the system keeps implying it is not serious.
Then you finally get a diagnosis, and a different kind of vulnerability begins.
Surgery is intimate. Consent is intimate. Fertility conversations are intimate. You are not choosing between good and bad options. You are choosing between imperfect ones, often under time pressure, while living in pain, while trying to stay employed, while trying to keep relationships intact.
In my case, that path led through IVF, multiple surgeries, bowel involvement, and eventually a radical hysterectomy and surgical menopause. That is not just a medical timeline. It is a life.
So when public scrutiny erupts, you don’t just think, you relive.
You replay appointments. Language used. The confidence you were asked to place in someone else. You wonder if you asked enough questions. You wonder if you knew enough to ask them.
Now comes the second truth. The one that makes many of us furious.
Endometriosis care in Australia is already fragile. Diagnosis delays are common. Specialist access is uneven. And complex excision surgery, the type many severe patients require, is not the kind of procedure that can be safely delivered without deep expertise and strong governance.
Endometriosis is not “period pain”. It can involve the bowel, bladder, ureters, diaphragm, and nerves. It can impact fertility. It can fuse organs. It can wreck lives quietly, while the outside world keeps asking why you are cancelling plans.
It also carries a major economic burden. The Australian Institute of Health and Welfare has estimated the total economic burden of endometriosis at between $7.4 billion and $9.7 billion per year.
So here’s what makes me angry.
When a high-profile case dominates the narrative, the temptation is panic-driven reform. Fast, blunt, reactive policy that looks decisive but can unintentionally restrict access for the very patients who already struggle to get care. And if decision-makers respond with blanket barriers, women with genuine deep disease will pay the price.
Those women will wait longer. They will deteriorate. They will end up in emergency departments. They will lose fertility opportunities. They will lose jobs. They will lose confidence in the system entirely. And that would be the worst possible lesson to take from this moment.
Accountability matters. Patient safety matters. Oversight matters. But access matters too. We can hold both.
We can investigate concerns robustly without making it harder for patients with severe endometriosis to access timely surgery. The answer is not making surgery harder to access. The answer is making surgery safer, more consistent, and more specialised.
What smarter reform looks like
Clearer specialist pathways for complex endometriosis surgery
Endometriosis needs dedicated training standards for surgeons performing advanced excision. Not vague expertise claims. Defined competency. Ongoing assessment. Multidisciplinary expectations.
Transparent reporting and governance
Hospitals and regulators should have clearer mechanisms for monitoring outcomes, reviewing patterns, and acting earlier when concerns are raised. Patients should not be left to connect the dots alone.
Integrated fertility planning from the start
If fertility is relevant, patients deserve early, structured counselling and clear options. Not hindsight. Not ambiguity. Clarity, early.
Better diagnostic capability and training across the system
Imaging can miss deep-infiltrating disease. GP education matters. Sonographer training matters. Specialist referral pathways matter. Severe endometriosis should not rely on luck, geography, or personal finances.
Research funding that matches the scale of the problem
A disease costing up to $9.7 billion a year deserves serious investment in research, treatment innovation, and long-term outcomes.
This week has made many patients feel exposed. Some are grieving. Some are triggered. Some are furious. Many are all of the above.
I also want to acknowledge the quiet fear that sits under the anger: the fear that women will be dismissed again. Endometriosis is already invisible. Patients are already doubted. The last thing we need is a new wave of scepticism that makes women feel they must prove pain all over again.
We can demand higher standards without turning endometriosis into a policy football.
We can protect patients without locking them out.
We can respond to scrutiny without setting women’s healthcare back.
This is the moment to get serious.
Not reactive. Not performative. Serious.
Because endometriosis patients are done carrying the cost of a system that only pays attention when there’s a headline.