Tag: Europe

‘Wait and see’ – Thoughts before diagnostic laparoscopy #Periodically 9

“Just wait and see,” my mum keeps telling me, anytime I speculate about what exactly is going on with my uterus. For a while it’s been a really annoying command. “I need to know now,” my brain disputes. But finally, it’s not long until the waiting is over and the seeing can begin.

This week I have my long awaited diagnostic laparoscopy. For those who don’t know this is, or should be, simple keyhole surgery to determine if endometriosis is the cause of my pain and other issues. If there are any lesions (sticky bits of endometrium in the wrong place that can potentially bind organs together) they’ll remove what they can and then discuss possible treatments with me. A possible treatment, other than repeated surgery, is likely to be returning on the pill, an idea, you now know, I am not a massive fan of.

Instead of going off on one of my usual tangents about how unfair it is that female health has been neglected, making common problems like endometriosis seem harsher in a world of medicinal advancement (still got it in there though, didn’t I?), I want to talk about what I worry is the most likely outcome of the surgery.

“Nope, nothing wrong Ms Webb, off you pop!” The words I fear Dr M is going to say to me after the surgery have started to give me nightmares. I know it is a reality for so many women seeking enlightenment about their reproductive health but I am terrified that I’ll be joining the gang. There’s not a conspiracy here but there is a lack of understanding. When I’ve discussed pain during sex Dr H has been great but other doctors and nurses who I’ve mentioned it to, while also mentioning my lack of desire to return on the pill, say nothing. But in the nothing, I can’t help getting a vibe that says “shut your legs, harlot”. I think it’s highly unlikely, and unfair of me to assume, that they are actually thinking or suggesting this, but once all other options have been exhausted there’s not much left except abstinence from penetrative sex. They know this and so do I. It’s become an elephant in the room. While many people tell you to anticipate descending towards a new chastity at the very end of your life, it’s not something I want to be facing at twenty-two.

So call me disturbed, but I really hope that after the surgery I hear that, in fact, there is something wrong with me (ideally something that they’ve fixed). At least if I have a condition with a name, I won’t feel like it’s all in my head and I’ll have somewhere to direct my frustration.

But until then, let’s just wait and see.

August 14, 2017
The menstrual cup is disgusting – until it’s not #Periodically 7

Sorry mum – you’re really going to hate this one. It’s your least favourite topic my large repertoire of vaginal related discussion – the menstrual cup.

I started reading articles and blogs, even watching vlogs, about people with uteruses’ experiences with menstrual cups probably about a year ago, when I began to get a period every month. Given the torment of my bleed I was buying at least one box of tampons and one pack of sanitary towels every month, and it was adding up. The financial benefits of the cup were very attractive.

However, I despised those who sang the praises of the blessed bloody cup. There were dozens of articles and blogs where people lamented about how ‘once you try the cup there’s no going back’. How lives had been changed, transformed, improved. “What a load of bollocks,” I thought. Of course there were positives, but the emotion being expressed towards a piece of silicone that gets shoved up ones vagina, was bonkers.

Instead, I relished in the, often comedic, articles about how horrific trial runs of cups had derailed. Women who had to call in the aid of flatmates, boyfriends and mothers to fish cups out of there apparent venus fly traps. “I tried a menstrual cup and NEVER AGAIN EVER NO NEVER” were often the type of headline that went along with such stories. They were very funny, but also sounded quite traumatic – they were very much how I imagined my experience going.

And I wasn’t wrong. I first tried, after internet advice, to use the cup a few days before my period was due – no joy, I couldn’t get the damn thing in. Even though I knew full well that I hadn’t the foggiest idea how I was going to insert it, a few days later I tried while I was on my period. What a mistake. Total carnage. Texts were sent, tears were shed, photos were taken (don’t worry – I can’t even bring myself to look). Somehow, I thought I had actually inserted the cup – well, no I had inserted it but the point is I had inserted it badly – and an hour after sitting at my desk thinking how well it was all going I went to check and that’s when the bathroom fast transformed into a crime scene.

I don’t know how or why but the cup made my period heavier and more painful that it already was, leaving me doubled up in more ways than one and swearing that I would never go near the damn thing again. But, a bit like labour actually, four weeks later I had put the turmoil, and the photo, behind me and I was ready to try again – but this time towards the end of my period (a much better idea). YouTube propped up on the bath, I relaxed my body and followed the YouTuber’s instructions on several ways to fold the cup. Some forty odd minutes later I had FOUND MY FOLD. That should be a hashtag, maybe it is – but hell, you really do discover which one is for you. #FindYourFold

The next issue came in that I couldn’t get the ruddy thing to open up inside me, but again a little more YouTubing and foruming led me to the answer. I had no idea the pelvic floor muscles were equally as strong as pulling things into the vagina as they are at expelling them…

The next couple of cycles were a bit hit or miss but gradually, the cup and I are beginning to become good friends. We’ve even been on holiday together! I still, for some unknown reason, have unexplainable leakage on day three every month but it’s nothing a pantyliner can’t handle and otherwise I am starting to understand why all those people loved their cups so much. I haven’t bought a box of tampons or towels in four months, I saved on some serious packing room in South America, the space I need to occupy in the bathroom has reduced, I can wear it while I anticipate my period and while it’s dying off (comfortably!), my environmental impact has been reduced and I no longer have to deal with overcrowded sanitary bins or making sure the pockets of every bag I own are sufficiently stocked. I’ve even gotten to know a lot about my wonky cervix and how often it moves (and oh how I gagged when I realised that was what had happened). What’s not to love?

The answer to the latter question is the process. That’s what I think was missing from all those articles I read. Everyone either hated or loved their cup. I didn’t read a single article that said “stick with it, it’s going to be rough (read: disgusting) for a couple of cycles, but when you figure it out the benefits are really quite impressive”. So I’m going to say it. The menstrual cup? Stick with it, it’s going to be rough (read: disgusting) for a couple of cycles, but when you figure it out the benefits are really quite impressive.

My period is always a weird time of the month for me, and it’s often quite painful – but the faff of actually having to deal with my period is gone now, and it’s a welcomed change to my cycle when so many other things make me want to hate it.

Hilary’s menstrual cup recommendations (there’s something I never thought I’d write!)

Where I purchased my cup (I have a meluna): http://www.femininewear.co.uk/
The brilliant YouTube channel that got me where I am today: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC5jJ_1US1DjRYJF_WU4sQ5w
My fold! #FindYourFold: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m25SKJwWARY

July 31, 2017
Conversations with doctors that shouldn’t have happened #Periodically 4

I have been very lucky with the doctor who’s been helping me sort my uterus out in Swansea, and it’s a little daunting that whatever happens now I’m going to have to figure it all out without Dr H now I’m back in Essex. Regardless, there are a couple of conversations that have happened with both Dr H, my GP, and Dr M, my gynaecologist, that I’m not sure are entirely fair. Disclaimer: I will be paraphrasing for comedic effect here, unless you want my full um-ing and ah-ing while I tried not to rage cry at them…

A lot of the reasons I feel the conversations are inappropriate is because I don’t think they would have happened at all if I was a man. If I was a man enduring horrible pain during sex, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be told to ‘keep trying other positions,’ ‘take ibuprofen before sex’ or pump my body full of hormones that also directly impact my sex drive. The truth is there would likely be a solution, simply because while men were figuring out how to fix their penises, for a long time research into female sexuality was often limited to hysteria, ‘wandering womb’ and childbirth. That said, the uterverse is a lot more complicated that the male reproductive system and so our understanding of it was always going to take a bit longer.

“Yes, but if it didn’t hurt on the pill, then you should go back on”

I’ve had a troublesome past with the contraceptive pill, both the combined and mini. So when Dr M asked ‘did sex hurt when you were on the pill’ and I said no, he said, ‘ah well there’s the solution then’. I calmly pointed out that things also weren’t bad before I was on the pill. The plan he was suggesting sounded to me like a mask solution, and that any serious problems I was dealing with would return if I ever came off the pill to, say, reproduce. I would prefer to deal with this situation now, rather than ten years down the road when it’s too late to be a surrogate for my sister because of a defunct uterus.

“What would you say if all I can offer you is either no libido or painful sex?”

The mini pill destroyed my sex drive. Physically and psychologically there was no ‘desire’ (read moisture) for sex. So when Dr M put this ultimatum before me I was a bit lost for words. Are these really the only options I have? Not wanting to have sex but possibly being able to, or wanting to have sex but not being able to? Pretty slim pickings if you ask me. It makes one ask, when will female sexual pleasure begin to be as important as male sexual pleasure?

Me: “I actually ended a relationship because of this” Dr H: “OMG well we’ll expedite your appointment then”

After several months of waiting for a gynae appointment and with things getting progressively worse, I visited Dr H and explained. She said there was nothing she could do until I’d seen the gynae. She asked how I was doing otherwise and I mentioned how honestly ‘it was making life a bit shit’. I subtly mentioned that I had ended a relationship because of it and suddenly, as if this was a new sign of the severity of my situation, she was able to write a letter and expedite my appointment, as well as book me in for an ultrasound. I received my gynae letter two days later and had a scan within a fortnight. Call me picky, but I kind of wanted my doctors help for me and my body, not for my love life.

June 30, 2017