Tag: University

What I learnt at Clue last week #Periodically 14
Nearly everyday I learn something new from the cycle tracking app Clue. Usually it’s about my own body, a new trend the app has noticed, a connection I thought was a coincidence that actually might be cycle related, or a fact that the app provides in its educational features. Last week however, I was lucky enough to make it to two of Clue’s events, as the blossoming company organised a week of talks in London.

Tuesday at Facebook London

On Tuesday evening I went to Facebook’s London HQ for a talk entitled ‘Hormones and the Cycle’ and on Wednesday I went to a ‘Lunch and Learn’ session on ‘Sex and the Cycle’. The events were brilliant and provided an opportunity to meet people from all walks of life, with one common interest – a desire to learn more about the menstrual cycle. The events were hosted by Clue’s Ambassador Program Manager, Maddie Sheesley, and its Researcher and Science & Education Manager, Anna Druet. This pair of brilliant FemTech advocates both fought the corner for how powerful education about reproductive health can be – teach a girl about her body and you can change the world.

Runway East for Lunch on Wednesday

So without further ado, here are a few things I learnt at Clue this week, that I didn’t know before.
- PMS as a concept that was coined before we even knew about hormonal fluctuations in the menstrual cycle, and yet we still use the same information to talk about and categorise it. Clue have written about the rarely discussed positive effects of PMS.
- I knew that the cervix moved throughout the cycle (as I terrifyingly discovered when I was learning how to use the menstrual cup). What I didn’t know was that it moves up and down throughout your cycle, an occurrence that can improve, or at least change, how sex can feel. What’s more, the combined pill (that’s the standard birth control pill) stops the cervix from moving up and down, it potentially lowers slightly during a placebo week. There are also reports of cervical orgasms – who knew?!
- Perhaps most interesting for me and my own health was learning that research strongly suggests that chronic pain is worse towards the end of the luteinising phase of one’s cycle – the run up to a period. I clarified at the event, was this reproductive chronic pains or all chronic pain? It is all chronic pain. So when I wrote a few weeks ago that ‘whatever the problem is, it is either worsening or being worsened by my menstrual cycle’ I was right on the money. Even if it’s my kidneys, my bladder, my bowels or elsewhere, it was always going to get worse around my period because pain tolerance goes down. Imagine how useful that knowledge would have over the last year if I’d had it. Knowledge of self is POWERFUL.
- Some research has suggested that a low risk of pregnancy can cause people to enjoy sex more – explaining potential peaks of sex drive near menstruation. I certainly know a lot of people that can attest that low risk of pregnancy is sexy.
- Very early research suggests that the clitoris grows 1/5 of its size during ovulation. That is bonkers!
- The level of Oestrogen in combined pills has been dropping over the years. Now they start low and build up if necessary.
- Each time you’re late taking the combined pill the follicle grows slightly. So if you consistently, occasionally forget to take the pill on time, it can eventually lead to ovulation. That is terrifying (but also kind of cool).
- The Progesterone Only Pill (POP/Mini-Pill) stops pregnancy by changing the consistency of your cervical fluid to block sperm. I was on the mini-pill for two years and only now do I know how it works.
- Emergency contraceptives aren’t all equally effective at every point in your cycle – also terrifying and not common knowledge.
- Most methods (or all, I’m unsure) of tracking ovulation are retrospective – we can’t yet predict when that moment is going to happen.
Interestingly, many of the questions from the audience started with ‘I recently came off the pill…’ or similar. So it’s not just something I’m imagining, there is the demand for a contraceptive shake-up. The events did remind me how valuable and life-changing hormonal contraception can be, but if you ask me, there has to be a better way. One of my favourite things about Clue is that the data you input is used in research into the menstrual cycle, so while there’s so much more to learn, at least my data is helping the cause (I hope!)

To keep up with what I’m doing, follow me on Twitter or Instagram for beautiful photos of my lunch with a side of condoms. Thanks, Clue!
October 2, 2017
An attempt at not forgetting 17 years of French
It has been three months since I finished my degree! What! While I’ve always been good at keeping up with the literature side of my degree, the French side can be a little harder to slot into everyday life (without moving to France that is, believe me – I’m trying). I was reading at least one French novel a month up until June, but since then things have been a bit crazy and my English To Be Read pile has been much larger than my French TBRs.

It hit me today, scrolling through Twitter. There was a Tweet by French President Emmanuel Macron that I read and processed and then I continued to scroll. Wait, I just read and understood a tweet in another language. I never want to forget how cool that is. To learn a language is to open up a whole other world of people you can communicate with. It has also been a huge amount of hard work to get my French to where it is today, but ‘today’ is also the first time in seventeen years that I haven’t been studying French academically.

I remember going to a Franglish Language exchange in Lyon and meeting a middle aged man who told me he was there because he had a degree in English, a language he hadn’t spoken since he was studying it. He was now applying for a job where he needed English and he suddenly realised he had forgotten almost everything he knew about the language.

I do not want to find myself in his shoes in twenty years time. In fact I outright refuse. So here’s what I propose to do to stop myself forgetting French:

Read, read, read

One French novel a month. It’s only recently I stopped doing this but it’s time to revive the habit. It is not nearly as laborious as it once was, in fact it’s a pleasure. One that I take for granted. I have a few French reading goals to, but they’re all pretty long winded so they might take a while:
- Les Misérables (Parts 1 – 4)
- Some Proust
- Harry Potter en français
News, news, l’actus

I’m going to take a revision exercise and try and make it a daily, if not weekly, habit. Translating the headlines of French news websites into English and English headlines into French – and of course reading the French articles. Asides from the language benefits you get from this, reading a different perspective on English news is always a bonus. Particularly when I connect much more with European coverage of Brexit than British coverage.

On y va!

I need to get to France. As much as is realistically possible. This one is a little harder because of money, but I just need to scrape up some pennies and go on a weekend break. The best way to improve my French is (shock) to speak French with French people. In fact I’m just going to set myself the goal of returning to Lyon for this year’s Fête des Lumières, since it was partially cancelled when I was living there. OK that was easy… now for finding some money…
September 5, 2017
Good news, bad news & speculation #Periodically 10

Know that feeling of relief when you worry about a worst case scenario but when push comes to shove everything is OK? I do, I had it for about half an hour after my surgery, but that was all.

Last week my lovely mum managed to get me to Swansea, operated on and back to Essex in 27 hours. It was my last rendez-vous with the Welsh NHS system (that I already miss) and it was a diagnostic laparoscopy – keyhole surgery to look for signs of endometriosis on my uterus. My biggest fear, as I discussed last week, was that the doctors would tell me that there was ‘nothing’ wrong.

A whole bay to myself

We arrived at the hospital bright and early at 7:30am and they promptly told me I was first on the list of two – thank you summer holidays! I was actually relieved to find myself in pain on this particular morning. By my logic, if it was causing me pain then they would be able to see whatever was causing it in action. My anaesthetist Dr G and his student came to see me first – they were super friendly and informative throughout the whole day. Then Dr M’s registrar, so my second gynae, who I hadn’t met before showed up and we rewrote my consent form and ran through what was going to happen. They would go in for a look, if there was nothing I would only have the one incision, if there was anything wrong it could be up to four. Then I got to see Dr M who would be performing the laparoscopy. He is not a man of many words, our second and final meeting was brief.

Gowned, naked and exposed I was wheeled down to the prep room where people stuck various things to me and in me while asking what I write about – “female health, actually!” Dr G was hosting an A level student and so everything was explained above me as they administered painkillers and then anaesthetic to my cannula, before Dr G said “see you in half an hour – or an hour if we find anything! Think of nice dreams now and you’ll wake up to nice things’.

Gowned, naked, exposed and HOPEFUL

‘OK’ I thought, ‘I’ll dream of a diagnosis…’

Opening my eyes in recovery I immediately clocked (literally) that it had been over an hour. First shot of relief. The nurse was asking me questions but I had zero interest in them so I immediately asked ‘how many holes?’ Understandably confused she asked what I meant, to which I very eloquently clarified ‘how many pokey holes?’ while pointing at my belly. She lifted my blanket and gown and confirmed, ‘two pokey holes’. Second shot of relief. ‘Looks like you’ve had a couple of cysts removed, love’ were her next words. TWELVE SHOTS OF RELIEF.

Cysts! I can handle cysts. I’ve tested negative for polycystic ovaries so if it’s just a couple of cysts that might rectify everything. This was the best case scenario! Hurrah! Contented with relief I now answered her actual questions. Yes, I did feel sick, but only because I’d had a breathing aid down my throat. Yes, I would like some pain relief. No, I didn’t have a headache. She then handed me and my file to my ward manager Viv with the words ‘she’s had a cyst removed’. Hmm, ‘cyst’ singular this time. First shot of doubt.

Cysts? No cysts? Who cares when you’re this good looking?

Wheeled back to my mum I said ‘cyst! Or cysts! I’m not sure’. Then it was my mums turn for relief, she also knew that in this case no news was not necessarily good news. She called my dad and let my sisters know what was going on while we waited for the gynaes to come and talk to us. I was in a fair bit of pain at this point, but it seemed, it was worth it. And then in marched the gynaecological registrar, no Dr M. I smiled at him, waiting for confirmation that I wasn’t insane. ‘So the surgery all went well, we didn’t find any endometriosis. There was a 2cm cyst but obviously that’s just a normal ovulation cyst. So yeah, good news really because nothing’s wrong, bad news because we don’t know what’s causing your pain’.

Oh.

So I didn’t have any cysts removed. But I did have a cyst, an ovulation cyst. I’m ovulating. I could’ve bloody told them that from Clue which had already notified me of that very fact. I just frowned at my mum while she asked actual questions. I was, am, gutted. ‘Whatever it is, it’s not gynaecological,’ he informed us. Apparently, after everything, my uterus is a ‘nice and healthy looking uterus’. Even my ovaries are in the right place.

Alive, but unimpressed

Worried about my risk of clots on the drive back to Essex, Dr G ordered a blood thinner, but otherwise, a few more painkillers and lunch and we were on the road by 2pm. I love lasagne and rice pudding, but they only marginally cheered me up.

A few days on, I’ve had time to process and I am realising how grateful I should be that whatever the problem is, it doesn’t lie in my reproductive health. Maybe whatever is wrong will be more treatable than the unknown entity of endo. But I am equally disillusioned with the idea of having to start this entire process all over again, in Essex of all places where GP appointments are much harder to come by than in Swansea. #ToryBritain.

It is difficult to go through such an invasive procedure and to be none the wiser afterwards. Endometriosis needs an easier diagnosis method. I knew that before, but if there had been a less invasive way to rule endo out of the equation, it would have saved a lot of heartache. Not receiving a diagnosis initially felt like I needed to just bounce back, having wasted everyone’s time. But I have had two pokey holes poked, and the hope being taken as quickly as it was given has left me with a bit of emotional whiplash. Besides, the surgery didn’t reveal nothing. I know now that this pain isn’t gynaecological and that my reproductive health is in fact, healthy – though it would be nice if I could actually use it. What pain I do have is calmed down by paracetamol but is noticeably worse in the evenings.

Physical recovery wise, I’m starting to feel good. I’m sleepy, moany and achey but I’m walking around and irritating my family with little hindrance. During a diagnostic laparoscopy they fill your abdomen up with carbon dioxide, which has left for some interesting bloating. The wounds are seemingly healing well but the area is very sore and my belly button no longer looks like my belly button. It looks a bit like they’ve untied it and then retied it differently. I’ve had some vaginal bleeding but nothing major. I was shocked back into sanitary towel usage when I discovered a pad literally wedged between my legs after surgery. They assure me tampons and cups will be fine to use for my next period though.

Proof that they really fill and tie you up like a balloon…

Chances are, if it’s not my womb then it’s probably my bladder or bowel. Already, my right side, where most of my ‘period/ovulation’ pain is focussed, has swollen and is much more painful than the left following the surgery, meaning I’m still very suspicious of the area. I daren’t speculate, especially since the registrar, who made a point of saying he would not speculate, proceeded to speculate far enough to suggest I might need to go gluten-free (The horror!) I have had a plethora of bladder issues from the age of two till eleven, that restarted around the age of eighteen, so I think we will first explore the bladder.

What for this blog then, you ask? Well I think things are likely to get less menstrual (though who are we kidding, probably not). Whatever the problem is, it is either worsening or being worsened by my menstrual cycle so I don’t think we’re done there. But while we wait for hospitals, doctors, practices and two countries to sort their shit out transferring and referring me, I think it’s likely that these blogs might begin to take up the other meaning of Periodically – in that they will occur from time to time.

Thank you everyone for the well wishes over the past couple of weeks. Even if it’s reluctant, I’m looking forward to exploring yet another part of my body in the hope of a future with a bit less pain.

For now though: walkies, reading and puppy snugs!

August 22, 2017