Cherry Healey: My UTI landed me in hospital — it’s not fair to treat women like this
By 
Psychologies
From chronic UTIs and endometriosis to menopause and misdiagnosis, women’s health is still overlooked — with serious consequences for wellbeing, equality and independence
Cherry Healey has spent more than a decade listening to women talk about their bodies, and what she’s heard has stayed with her.
“I’ve been working in the women’s health space for over ten years,” she says, “trying to learn as much as I can about how I can help,” but the same themes come up again and again.
It isn’t confusion or exaggeration — it’s frustration. “A lot of women I speak to say they don’t feel heard. They feel frustrated at the inequality in the care they receive.”
Women’s health inequality in the system
That inequality, Healey believes, is built into healthcare. “You look at how quickly your partner or husband gets seen by a consultant versus a woman,” she says. “Gynaecological waiting times are astronomically high,” and once you notice it, it’s hard to ignore.
The consequences aren’t abstract. Symptoms like irregular bleeding, if left unchecked, can lead to very different outcomes. “It can be a matter of life and death,” she says.
Chronic conditions in women: endometriosis, UTIs and menopause
Certain conditions surface repeatedly — endometriosis, menopause, chronic pain and urinary tract infections (UTIs). Basically, anything to do with hormones.
UTIs affect around half of all women, yet are often dismissed as minor. The reality is different. “They cause depression. They make you feel really down,” she says. “They can land you in hospital,” and in older people, even trigger hallucinations.
What frustrates her isn’t just the pain, but what happens when women seek help.
“When I call my doctor, they say, ‘Do you really have a UTI? Come in with a sample,’ and then you wait 48 hours,” she says. “Wasting even 20 minutes can be catastrophic.”
Despite how common they are, UTIs are still met with scepticism. “It’s treating women like children — as though I’d pretend to have one to get antibiotics,” she says. “I’m not taking them for fun.”
She remembers one episode when she couldn’t get treatment in time. “I went to A&E with a kidney infection and was on a drip for five days. I’ve scarred my kidneys for life.”
The cost of dismissing women’s symptoms
It’s not just the personal toll — it’s the wider cost. “How much did that cost the NHS?” she asks, comparing emergency care with the possibility of earlier treatment.
Others, she points out, are dealing with even more disruptive conditions. Endometriosis can make it impossible to plan work or education, with many women cycling through invasive procedures that offer only temporary relief.
Gender bias in healthcare and treatment access
The imbalance shows up in everyday care. “There are multiple over-the-counter erectile dysfunction remedies,” Healey says. “A man can walk into a chemist and buy one on his lunch break,” while women often struggle to access basic treatment when they need it.
“You can’t end up in hospital because you can’t have sex. But you can if you can’t get antibiotics for a UTI on a Friday afternoon.”
Contraception tells a similar story. After having a coil fitted, she wasn’t warned about the pain. “It was agony,” she says, describing days of discomfort. Male procedures, she points out, are typically done under anaesthetic. “If there’s a better description of inequality, I don’t know it.”
Women’s health and economic independence
For Healey, this doesn’t stop at healthcare — it affects every part of life. “Women are the glue for society,” she says, but when their health is unstable or misunderstood, the knock-on effects can be significant.
“Being financially independent is the safest thing you can do,” she says, yet ongoing health issues can push women out of work or force them to scale back. “The cost of not being well isn’t just that it’s unpleasant,” she says. “It’s vital.”
Misdiagnosis and overlooked symptoms in women
Women’s health is still too often treated as niche, something separate from mainstream medicine.
“Women die of heart attacks because they present differently,” she says, “but they’re sent home,” and by the time the problem is recognised, it can be too late.
Part of the issue, she thinks, is that women haven’t always had a point of comparison. “We don’t go into appointments with men,” she says. “We don’t ask, ‘If I were a man, what would you do?’”
That is beginning to change. “The internet is our campfire,” she says, “and women are sharing stories, comparing notes, and realising this isn’t good enough.”
Preventative care and women’s health innovation
That shift has pushed her towards action. After years of recurring infections and repeated antibiotics, she co-created Utee, a supplement designed to support both prevention and treatment of UTIs. “Antibiotics treat the infection, but only half the problem,” she says. Prevention, in her experience, was largely missing.
More than anything, it comes back to trust. “We trust women with contraception. We trust women to raise children,” she says. “But we don’t trust them with antibiotics.”
She isn’t interested in perfection, but she is clear that midlife can feel good with the right support. “We want to thrive,” she says. “We want to enjoy life, travel, feel good in our bodies.”
It comes back, in the end, to something simple. Women’s health needs to be taken seriously — not as a side issue, but as something central. “Women are the glue for society,” she says. “And until that’s reflected in how we’re treated, this isn’t good enough.”
