Tag: Health

  • Back in the Saddle (not that one) #Periodically 28 – Fitness in Mind

    Back in the Saddle (not that one) #Periodically 28 – Fitness in Mind

    The pelvic pain that these blogs have been documenting has forced me to give up several things that I took for granted in the past. One of them, some of you will know, is running.

    Four years ago now (where the hell did they go?!) I got drunk, fell down some stairs and signed up for the London Marathon 2015. It was the start of a pretty unconventional “fitness journey.” I somehow taught myself to run, trained for a marathon and completed my first marathon a year to the day after my first run. I wasn’t fast, but I had become something I had always feared: a runner.

    IMG_0299
    2015

    As much as I said “never again” after London, when the charity Worldwide Cancer Research asked if I wanted to run another marathon, this time in Paris, I couldn’t resist saying yes.

    “It was a mistake for many reasons,” I usually say at this point in the story. Not because I got seriously injured or anything, but because the Paris Marathon was hot, gruelling work – this time I really meant it when I said, “never again”.

    So after the Paris Marathon in 2016, I found myself with a new luxury at my disposal: running for fun. The entire time I’d been running it had been part of some grand marathon training plan, but as I moved backed to Swansea for my final year of university I had the freedom to run for however long or far I wanted to.

    Much to my surprise, I did continue to run. But never very far. I was just popping out for a mile run, it wasn’t exactly hard work but it was really nice. After a few months, I started to try and push it up a bit more, branching out to two miles or, god forbid, three. That’s when I started noticing a new pain, one that I associated with my period and, by this point, sex. No matter how much I stretched or how much water I drank this pain would show up around the half-mile mark and become unbearable over a mile. So I stopped running.

    Problem is, I didn’t start doing anything else with my body and consequently managed to age about 37 years in the process. Until…

    It was actually my counsellor who sent me in the direction of Fitness in Mind, which makes a lot of sense. I’ve lost complete control of my body and exercise is a big part of that. Fitness in Mind is a unique space where physical activity and peer support are combined to help people get into or back into exercise, particularly if they’ve been struggling with problems elsewhere in their life. It’s run by several sports clubs across the country, and lucky for me, the Brentwood Centre happens to be one of them. Even more amazing than that, the 12-week course of daily exercise classes is free.

    It was exactly what I needed, right when I needed it. I joined in week two and have been doing yoga and Mixed Martial Arts for the last eleven weeks. I struggled a lot with the Machu Picchu trek last year, but a successful ski trip in March left me with fresh hope that maybe exercise was less likely to hurt now. If I’m totally honest, I was expecting to discover that exercise didn’t actually cause any pain, that I’d just imagined it as an excuse to mooch about. When the gentlest of yoga stirred up the pain in my side, I was pretty gutted – I hadn’t imagined it after all. But I carried on, crucially I didn’t “push through the pain” because in my situation that could potentially involve a ruptured cyst, but instead I did what every instructor and activator on the programme told us to do, “listen to your body and do what you can.” So I pushed myself in yoga but never to the edge and I did everything in MMA except the kicking (which my body immediately said “no” to). It’s so obvious and so simple, but there was something really nice about having someone else tell me that.

    Surprise to no one, given the new sensitive version of Hilary I’ve become on the pill, I found the first few weeks quite challenging and not just physically. First at the discovery that exercise still hurt and then at the realisation that it wasn’t the end of the world. I wasn’t blubbing in the middle of yoga, but it was nice to know that I could have if I needed to – there was always peer support on hand. I’m still not “over it” but I think part of the last few weeks has been me realising that for whatever reason, fair or not, I’m no longer a runner. I hope that’s not a permanent fact, but it is what it is for now.

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    2017

    The yoga has been so rewarding. After surgery on my abdomen last summer, I got out of the habit of using my core and have completely ignored it since. It hurt reawakening those muscles but I feel better and stronger for it. The MMA has been a laugh. I am no good at it, that’s for sure, but it’s been incredibly cathartic to hit a bunch of things for an hour a week.

    What makes this course what it is is undoubtedly the people. Participants and leaders alike – everyone just made it the safest space with zero judgment and zero stress. It was just a calm environment that allowed me to forge a much-needed new relationship with my body. Sure, I got a concession card at the end of the programme that gives me access to cheaper classes, but that is just a tiny perk in comparison to rest of this course’s benefits. It’s no secret that Brentwood has a fairly ageing population and admittedly I was one of the younger participants on the course but that only made the experience better. I met some incredibly interesting and patient people, none of whom made the assumption that because I was younger I could do more. There was no competition.

    However, I can’t believe how few people my age are using this amazing resource. Millenials of Brentwood, do you know that Fitness in Mind exists? Well, now you do. The next programme starts on July 2, sign up here or find out more on their Facebook page. 

    I haven’t lost a million pounds or transformed my body but I have had several overdue epiphanies, regained some strength and made some amazing friends. After a year of doing nothing more than walk the dog, that’s a huge achievement.

    Thank you Fitness in Mind for all your help! 💙

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    Happy, happy testimonials!

  • One Year of #Periodically: Sharing is Caring | #Periodically 27

    One Year of #Periodically: Sharing is Caring | #Periodically 27

    Fanfare alert: it’s been one whole year since I published the first #Periodically blog on Fictitiously Hilary. This marks my 27th blog about my menstrual, gynaecological and all together grossly overshared health. If truth be told, I can’t believe it’s only been a year, it’s been a bit of a mad one.

    So much has happened in the last 12 months, and, as I mentioned last week, writing the #Periodically blogs has given some really awful situations a positive edge. Writing about this never-ending shit-storm has meant I’ve actually got something from the shit-storm. The year would have been a bit of a downer without it.

    Health wise, the last twelve months have seen me hate the pill, have eliminating surgery, an infected bellybutton (nice!), cysts, cyst, no cysts, vaginismus (that was a curveball), counselling, stop running, start yoga, give up sex, several very painful pelvic exams, four very painful ultrasounds, anaemia (another curveball), one trip to the emergency gynae unit, going back on the pill, almost liking the pill, hating the pill again and going on pain eliminating antidepressants. It’s remarkable, but not all that surprising, that I have had so much medical intervention in the last 12 months without reaching a stable diagnosis or any reliable resolution. It’s also pretty distressing to think that things at this point are probably a little worse than they were a year ago. On the bright side, I’m incredibly fortunate that all this medical intervention, except prescriptions since leaving Wales, hasn’t directly cost me a penny! #SaveOurNHS 

    I say directly because my health has cost me financially. The increase in doctors appointments and pain last autumn undoubtedly influenced my decision to go freelance but I don’t regret that decision for a second. I graduated last July, spent four weeks in South America (including a struggle with altitude sickness that makes so much more sense now I know I was anaemic), before having the op and then deciding to go freelance.

    Going freelance straight from university was an awful idea, I knew it was at the time, but #Periodically has been a huge part of my freelance “success” (as in I’m still alive). While I haven’t monetized the blog, #Periodically has opened up so many doors, from top-secret projects that are going to change the world, to helping me get accepted onto the masters course I’ll be starting in September. It’s also let me meet some amazing people, from Period Poverty activists like Mandu Reid and Gabby Edlin (who I met in a toilet of all places), to entrepreneurs and game-changers in female health.

    From time to time, #Periodically has also veered away from my personal experiences and into other things, like femtech and menstrual cup reviews, as well as reviews of books like Sweetening the Pill and It’s Only Blood. The most popular blogs, ‘Does being anti-pill make me a bad feminist?’ and ‘My experience using Natural Cycles,’ combine review and personal experience — something I hope I can do more of in the future.

    In the first #Periodically I wrote, “I don’t want to write about it after the fact, because after the fact might not be for a long time. I want to write about it while it is happening,” and THANK GOD I had that mentality. Who knows when the end of this saga will come, but by sharing my experience, often in TMI detail, collaborating and campaigning I feel like I’ve got so much more from this year than just pain and frustrating doctors appointments. I hope the blogs can help make a few more people sit up and take female health, particularly menstrual health, even the tiniest bit more seriously.

    Thank you so much for reading and sharing the #Periodically blogs, especially if you were only here for book-talk. I have no idea where me or #Periodically will be in another 12 months time, but I can say with some confidence that things are probably going to get weird. 

    My favourite #Periodically is still #Periodically 4, check it out here: “Conversations with Doctors That Shouldn’t Have Happened”. 

  • 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.