Author: Hilary Webb

  • Admitting Defeat? #Periodically 26

    Admitting Defeat? #Periodically 26

    Technically speaking, it’s been almost two months since I last shared a personal update on my tricky situation. Why the hiatus? I’m not sure. I guess my oversharing side took a backseat and I decided, for the first time in a year, to just dwell on things in private. When I write these blogs I poke fun at my situation and force myself end on a positive note. By not writing about it, I’ve had a lapse in perspective and lost my sense of humour about it all.

    Also, the longer I left it the more there was to cover and now I’m not entirely sure where to start. With the good news, perhaps?

    The Third Pill Pack

    So I had a painless period. I don’t mean that to sound so nonchalant – it was a huge deal. I was scared to mention it in case I jinxed it. In fact, the painlessness continued for a couple of weeks after that. I was nervous to admit it. Had three months on the pill really fixed things so quickly and completely? No, was the answer.

    A few days before my next cycle I started to get some of my old pain, mostly the stuff that’s localised to my right side and gets dramatically worse every time I use my right leg. My PMS has been considerably worse since I’ve been on the pill but I’ve also noticed a dramatic drop in my mood the moment I am in pain. This didn’t used to happen. While I wait to sort out psychosexual counselling I’ve just got a standard counsellor for now, and since she can’t help as much with the vaginismus stuff, she’s doing her best to help me counter pain-induced mood swings.

    Around this time, my skin decided that a little acne on the pill would no longer do and broke out into the longest, most relentless bout of acne that I’ve had since puberty. Fab.

    The Fourth Pill Pack

    Old habits die hard, and the painful/grumpy premenstrual days foreshadowed a painful period. My periods are definitely less painful, lighter and generally better than they were before the pill and for the last few bleeds I’ve got away without painkillers, which is another huge victory. What was frustrating however, was that after my period ended, the pain didn’t. I wasn’t all that upset at first because I had a follow up scan a few days after and, as always, I applied the logic that if I was in pain then the scan might pick something up. I had built up to this particular scan more than normal because it was a big deal — if the internal ultrasound showed up clear then the chances were that my gynaecologist would declare that the pill had cured me and discharge me from his care. No pressure then, ovaries.

    When I got to the hospital though, there was no one there. It was a bank holiday and the hospital was closed. I had raised my eyebrows when I got the appointment months ago, but I didn’t question it since it had been outsourced to a private healthcare provider. That was a mistake. I wanted the scan to be that week because if the pill has “fixed” me in the sense that I now grow a cyst in my pill-free week and then it gradually goes away over the three weeks on the pill, then it’s not a particularly thorough fix. Having the scan a few days after my period and being in pain was the best possible time to catch *something* in the act. There’s also the added complication that having vaginismus, even though mine is manageable, means that I have to psych myself up for a transvaginal scan.

    The let down from not having the scan was pretty bad. I was upset. What didn’t help was that the bulging pain in my side continued to get worse and worse and was accompanied by some delightful bloating, only convincing me further that if I’d had the scan that day, they might’ve found something. Even though my scan was rescheduled for a week later, I knew my luck would mean it was a no-go. (I was right).

    I’d been looking forward to this particular week (I had a free house, wahoo!) and was planning to cook and eat and write and exercise (more on that another time) but I was in so much pain, riddled with some of the worst acne I’ve ever had, miserable from the non-event scan and generally very lacklustre, so I ended up regressing seven years and lolling about on Sims 2. I didn’t even read. This was all coupled with a vague work crisis, so basically it was a nightmarish shit-storm of a week.

    When I eventually had the scan it didn’t end up being an entirely negative experience. The sonographer and the chaperone were the two women who scanned me both times they found the cysts and were supportive in the fact that they knew that in cases like this, no news is not necessarily good news. Bizarrely, the sonographer, before inserting (is that any better than ‘penetrating?’ *cringe*) the device, gestured towards my vagina and asked, “are you alright with all that now?” and I WISH I had asked what she meant. Had she realised I had vaginismus way back when? I’ll never know.

    I tried to write off *that week* as a bad week and to carry on after I’d had the scan but the pain was stubborn to shift. I just felt a bit like a sick person again, lying down after dog walks and needing to catch my breath after the simplest of tasks. Pain is knackering. I think chronic pain flare-ups are always harder to handle after getting an ‘all-clear.’

    Pain Management 

    Bracing for the inevitable discharge letter from my gynae, I went to my new, new, new GP to discuss what my options were now. Five weeks or so ago I would’ve been happy with how things had improved on the pill but now I know my pain can still flare up just as much as it used to even though I’m on the pill. While the flare-ups are definitely rarer occurrences, I’m not really happy with this as an end point. There’s also the fact that the scan really hurt, penetration still hurts. It’s still intrusive and upsetting and I’d really just like to be done with it all now.

    Because of this, my GP has finally convinced me to focus on pain management. I feel like I’m admitting defeat because I really want to know what is causing my pain, plus I’m scared that if I never find the cause then the underlying problem may never shift. But honestly, I’m exhausted. Even if it’s only for a little while, pain management seems like the right thing to do, especially with the way my mood is correlating with my pain. So for now, I’m on amitriptyline, a low dose antidepressant that *may,* over time stop me feeling pain. It sounds scary and the list of side effects is TERRIFYING (spontaneous lactation?!) but I’m on such a low dose of the stuff that I’m not too worried for the time being.

    Since I’m going to be staying on the pill as part of this pain management programme, and it’s been long enough that my skin should’ve have calmed down or improved, I’m now on a new night-time gel for my acne. These two treatments combined have a load of risk factors that mean I should avoid sunlight and alcohol — fun summer 2018 for me then — but they’re not hard and fast rules. I’ve also been taking Evening Primrose Oil at my mum’s request since it used to help her PMS and acne. My PMS was particularly bad last week so I doubled my dose of EPO to no avail… worth a shot, eh?

    Let’s hope these guys can work together!

    I’ve definitely let things, pain and otherwise, get the better of me over the last few weeks, which is so frustrating because I have some really exciting things going on and coming up. I want to be able to enjoy it all, so pain management seems like the right way to go.

    Check out my latest review for A Younger Theatre here: Consent, Harold Pinter Theatre.

  • Review: It’s Only Blood – Anna Dahlqvist #Periodically 25

    Review: It’s Only Blood – Anna Dahlqvist #Periodically 25

    Last week I attended the launch of gender, sexuality and human rights journalist Anna Dahlqvist’s book It’s Only Blood: Shattering the Taboo of Menstruation. The conversations on the night, between Dahlqvist, the founder of Bloody Good Period Gabby Edlin and the audience were interesting enough, but the book itself stands out as an enlightened piece of writing about the profound impact that period taboos, period poverty and poor menstrual hygiene have on menstruators’ lives.

    The book was originally published in Swedish and has been translated into English by literary translator Alice E. Olsson. Olsson was at the launch and discussed the fun (and struggle) of translating some of the menstrual colloquialisms.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BjJ2uqLFo_-/?taken-by=baraliteblod

    It’s Only Blood is not a list of historical period myths, instead it’s a contemporary assessment of how reinforced menstrual shame continues to cause harm on a monumental scale. “Even though shame and silence are experiences shared by menstruators all over the world, the consequences become far more serious when an additional dimension is introduced: poverty,” Dahlqvist writes.

    The testimonies, many from school girls and activists from Uganda, Kenya, Bangladesh, India, America and Sweden, are combined with Dahlqvist’s research of UN legislation to highlight the fact that inaction when it comes to menstrual hygiene, education and resources means that many human rights are being violated, and yet, there’s a distinct lack of retaliation by politicians. The book is also coloured with Dahlqvist’s personal anecdotes and descriptions, which makes this serious book palatable – it’s rare to get a non-fiction book that you can’t put down.

    “Power over the period is a necessity, a precondition for participation in public life,” Dahlqvist writes, in reference to the serious social and educational issues poor menstrual hygiene can bring about. When school girls don’t have access to running water or locking doors, their options are rather bleak. If they bleed in public they’ll experience immense shame (the weight of which is only heavier when menstrual myths maintain that seeing or touching menstrual blood is bad luck), returning home to secretly clean and change a cloth at lunchtime, avoiding school entirely or hoping, at risk of infection, that one cloth or pad can survive a whole school day. Unsurprisingly, this has a profound and direct impact on their education. The book also explores how, contrary to popular opinion, these problems don’t go away as menstruators leave school.

    One particularly interesting part of It’s Only Blood is the connection Dahlqvist draws attention to between infections, like UTIs and Bacterial Vaginosis, which can be caused by poor menstrual hygiene, with HIV and HPV (leading to Cervical Cancer). Society, including period product providers, encourages menstruators to aspire to be clean and fresh while simultaneously not letting anyone around them know that they are bleeding. With all this shame and secrecy, it’s no surprise then that students in Malawi dry their menstrual protection under their mattresses or that in Bangladesh, one women hides her cloths in the roof, rather than drying them in sterilising sunlight. It’s a public health issue, why aren’t we treating it as such?

    Not only is Dahlqvist’s book intersectional in the stories that it tells, it also covers the intersections of menstrual hygiene with poverty, politics, commercial business and cultural and social stigmas. If you’re already active in combatting period poverty It’s Only Blood will spur you on and if you’re new to the discussion, the book will motivate you to join the ranks. Activists’ stories of feats large and small show how desperately change is needed, but also how in some cases, how little it takes to dramatically improve things.

    It’s Only Blood perfectly showcases how menstrual shame causes problems for everyone and why shattering the taboos will undoubtedly improve individuals’ lives and society in broader terms.

    Buy It’s Only Blood from Wordery by clicking here.

  • Becoming a Podcast Person

    Becoming a Podcast Person

    A million years late to the game, I have finally delved into the wonderful world of podcasts. I think there’s always been a lot of content out there that intrigued me but I never knew when exactly to listen to podcasts. I prefer working and writing in pin-drop silence, in my downtime or on the train I read, when I drive I sing and when I walk the dog I listen to music and *sometimes* pretend I’m in a OTT music video… I was pretty set in my ways and didn’t much like the idea of mixing those habits up.

    In the end, it took a podcast I couldn’t resist to finally get me to reassess when I could make time for podcasts. What was it? About Race with Reni Eddo-Lodge. I’ll get into the why and wherefore in a moment, but for me, About Race was a gateway drug into the world of podcasts. I tweeted asking for recommendations a few weeks ago, but please, let me know what else is good. For now though, here are the podcasts I’ve started with.

    (Oh, and if you’re interested, dog walking is now podcast time. It’s fine, I can do the music video thing in the car too).

    About Race – Reni Eddo-Lodge

    Earlier in the year I read Eddo-Lodge’s debut non-fiction book Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race. You’ve probably heard of it because it’s been a huge success. It is brilliant. The history of race in the UK is long and complicated, rich and relevant, and I somehow got to university before it was ever really mentioned to me in an educational setting – that’s maddening.  While I loved Why I’m No Longer it left me wanting more… And then the podcast came along and was even better than the bloody book.

    https://twitter.com/renireni/status/994464605312311296

    About Race is a discussion about the racial history of the UK from the ‘recent past’ to now with political, cultural and academic guests who explore the ins and outs of key events in British race relations, how we can learn from disasters, repeat success stories and so much more. Guests range from Akala to Lily Allen’s mum Alison Owen, Diane Abbott to Gabby Edlin, Owen Jones to Meera Syal, Laurie Penny to Nish Kumar. It really is amazing and is essential listening if you want to better understand 2018 Britain.

    Here’s hoping a second series will be coming soon!

    My Dad Wrote a Porno – Jamie Morton, James Cooper & Alice Levine

    Surprise to no one, when I mentioned I was dabbling in the world of podcasts, this was recommended to me by a number of people, I can’t imagine why… I’ve known about it for years but I’ve always been intimidated by the fear of never being able to catch up. Again, surprise to no one, catching up hasn’t been that difficult – how could it be when it’s so funny? My Dad Wrote a Porno is pretty well-known now (they’re doing live shows at the Albert Hall) but in case anyone doesn’t know the premise; Jamie’s father, “Rocky Flintstone,” has self-published his erotica Belinda Blinks. Jamie and his friends then rinse the novels on an extraordinarily popular podcast. What’s not to love?

    Banging Book Club – Hannah Witton, Lucy Moon & Leena Norms

    While I’m not a book club fan myself, there was no way I could avoid a podcast on books about sex. I’ve just been dipping in and out of this one as and when I’ve read the books they cover. So far, I’d say it’s pretty banging.

    Project Pleasure – Anouszka & Frankie

    Having followed Project Pleasure on Twitter for a while, when I finally opened up to podcasts it was at the top of my list. I’ve really enjoyed what I’ve heard so far – sex positive conversations where female pleasure is a priority. Sex educator Alix Fox features occasionally, as they discuss sex ed, porn, masturbation, sexuality, periods and lots more of the good stuff.

    Unexpected Fluids – Alix Fox & Riyadh Khalaf

    This one is much less intimidating because I actually found it around the time it came out (recently) so there’s not as much pressure to catch up. It’s a podcast about bad sex – again, right up my street isn’t it? So far, the first couple of episodes have been, as the title would suggest, more about icky/sticky/funny sex than the depressingly painful sexual chit chat I spend so much time talking about, which is a much needed break. Alix Fox is one of the hosts and Hannah Witton features, suggesting that the world of British sex podcasts is a rather small one. This does mean you occasionally get the odd identical anecdote.

    My Gilmore Girls inspired mantra for dating is: “every bad date is a good anecdote for the next,” and Unexpected Fluids applies this to sex. Except it’s more, “every bad hook up is a good anecdote for a BBC podcast.” Standard.

    Ctrl Alt Delete with Emma Gannon

    I won’t lie, most of my motivation for this podcast came from the fact that Dawn O’Porter features on multiple occasions and I love her. Reni Eddo-Lodge also features but I’m yet to listen to that episode. The talk with O’Porter that I’ve listened to so far, was particularly interesting to me because like in the more personal episodes of About Race, there’s a lot of talk about freelancing and I need as much advice as I can get. All the conversations about going freelance, from this podcast, About Race and the one below, have been really morale boosting which is so refreshing when so many people tell you, “you’re totally doomed.”

    https://instagram.com/p/Bf0rOlcH7Fu/

    In Good Company with Otegha Uwagba

    Again, you might’ve heard of Uwagba because of her hugely successful “Little Black Book” – a career handbook for creative working women. She’s also the founder of Women Who. Her book is still on my TBR for now, but I was led to her podcast by About Race, which signal boosts other great podcasts at the end of each episode. Again, I’m here for the freelance chat, but it’s also great to hear real, gritty, serious and amazing success stories from women in creative businesses.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BexpyuKHjjD/?taken-by=oteghauwagba