To my Cysters and Cyblings (Ovarian Cyst Care Rant)

 Yep, it's that time again kids! Sit down, shut up and settle in for another edition of Angry Bitch Rant Time. Today's topic: healthcare.

 Ten years ago my Mam took me up to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital with severe abdominal pain. I was squealing, crying and could barely move. I'd never felt anything like it. I was rushed through triage, saw several nurses and doctors, given morphine while waiting for the consultant - and found out that I'm allergic to morphine so no more of that for me! It was a chore just opening my eyes by the time the consultant got there, a nice young doctor who - I shit you not - was the spitting double of Arnold Rimmer; my Mam agreed so it wasn't just the morphine talking. He'd been called down to confirm that, yes, it was appendicitis and, yes, slice her and dice her, get the bastard out. But after a feel of my tummy he stopped and frowned, and asked me if I'd had pain like it before. I said I'd had similar pains a few weeks ago but they'd been on the other side so unless I had two appendices then it probably wasn't that. He frowned again, explaining that (thankfully) they wouldn't be whipping me down to surgery and I'd be kept overnight for more tests.

 As I was only 14 at the time I was taken over to the children's department and once my Mam went home at about 2am a nurse came in to chat to me and give me more painkillers. When I'd washed down the codeine and ibuprofen she asked if I'd had sex recently and immediately I panicked. Firstly, I was only 14 and thought I might get into trouble; secondly, could I be pregnant or have some horrible disease? But the scariest part... I hadn't, I'd been raped a few month beforehand. I didn't have the vocabulary at the time to tell her this so I just said yes and started crying. To her credit, she comforted me, reassured me I wasn't in trouble and she wouldn't tell my Mam, and rushed a pregnancy and sexual health test for me. Thankfully I wasn't but that just raised more questions. It wasn't my appendix, it wasn't pregnancy or and STI, so what could it be? Over the next couple of days I was kept in hospital (not a great way to spend my half term) and given I was on the children's ward I was bored out of my mind and surrounded by screaming kids. I got a lot of reading done but I was scared, in pain and bored while waiting for the results of blood tests and waiting for an ultrasound. 

 They day after my scan my best friend Devon came to see me. The visit did me the world of good, while it didn't stop me being in pain it was easier to forget about it - and she brought me Skittles. So far the painkillers I'd been on weren't taking the pain away but doped me up so much that I didn't care. We were right in the middle of giggling about Doctor Rimmer when another consultant, a white haired, well spoken, older man - late 50s I'd say - and without introducing himself or asking if it was okay, he bluntly said "lift your shirt please, I'm going to feel your stomach". That was uncomfortable enough on his own, not only because he pressed hard and his hands were cold, but because this stranger skipped introducing himself to the 14-year-old girl he wanted to have a feel of. In any other context this would be gross and criminal, but because he's a doctor it was just put down to poor bedside manner. Well, some people put it down to that, I put it down to him being a massive dickhead. After a feel and a frown he explained he'd looked at my scan and all he could find were ovarian cysts. Case closed, please cure me - right? I bloody wish.

 According to Doctor Rude "ovarian cysts shouldn't cause pain, it must be something else." I was discharged after this consultation and put on the waiting list for more outpatient tests for everything from digestive function, kidney function, food allergies. But when they all came back clear they decided they finally had a concrete diagnosis: it was Psychosomatic. 

 Calling it psychosomatic pain was basically a fancy way of telling me that they believed it was all in my head and that I must just be another attention-seeking anxious teenager. Yes, I was (and still am) incredibly anxious. Yes, in later life I was diagnosed with non-epileptic seizure disorder triggered by severe anxiety. The definition of psychosomatic pain is "pain disorders caused by psychological stress or anxiety and is characterized by chronic pain in more than one area and lasts from months to years". I'm not an expert by any means but looking back, if I had disclosed my sexual assault to them then I can see why they'd think it was psychosomatic, but I hadn't. As far as they knew I was pretty happy, if a little skittish, so I must be looking for attention. I would have happily let it go and tried telling myself that they were right, it was all in my head, if the pain didn't keep coming back.

 Every now and then over the past ten years I've experienced the same agonising, stabbing, burning pain. Unable to stand, unable to sit up, unable to move, sweating, shivering, curled up and crying. I've done all the right things, gone to my GP and gotten a referral to gynecology, and been told after most of those scans "yes, you have a sizeable ovarian cyst, it should go away on its own - just put up and shut up". A few years ago I was hospitalised again with suspected appendicitis, though insisted the whole time that I was just taking up a bed that somebody else needed, but they wanted to get to the bottom of it. I was seen by another male consultant who again, had an appalling lack of bedside manner; this time not even bothering to ask for consent or speak to me at all - instead he woke me up by feeling my stomach while I slept. Of course being touched by somebody with such cold hands woke me up and led to tears and panic, while he made a sub-par effort to calm me down and explain who he was and why he was there. He couldn't understand why I was so angry and shouting at him for just "doing his job". In the end I was transferred up to Gyno, crying the whole way out of pain, exhaustion and frustration. Yet again, it showed what I knew was there: a big fat cyst the size of a tangerine.

 I'm writing this now because I'm having a particularly bad time with them at the minute and although I know I probably should seek some sort of medical attention, what's the point? I'll just be told yes, it's cysts again, toughen up and go home. And I'm far from the only one who's experienced this sort of treatment (or lack thereof). So many uterus-having people experience pain with ovarian cysts, and so many other gynecological conditions that leave them in agony, but all they hear from their healthcare provider is "yes, it comes with the territory of having a womb, deal with it". Surgical removal of cysts is only considered when they're extremely large as many do just go away on their own, and I'm sure that others who've gone through the unpleasantness of one bursting... Our doctors need to be doing better. We need more research into non-surgical treatment for ovarian cysts. Yes, small ones are normal, many people will get them at some point, and they do go away on their own. But when you go through years of pain and all you're advised is to tough it out because nothing can be done, we need to find something to do about it.

 My experience is just another case out of many, with sans-uteri medical professionals refusing to believe the pain that we're in because it contradicts what their textbooks say.  There's no two ways about it, just because you have a degree doesn't mean you decide how much pain my body is causing me; and just because you've never experienced it personally doesn't mean that it can't happen. This is my body with its fucked-up ovaries and fucked-up other parts that is screaming out "I'm hurting, please help." So when it comes to gynecology, here's the bottom line:

The Holy Grail? Birth Control for Men

When my mind is racing, to the point where I can feel nothing else but the tension and the buzzing across my forehead, I know that one of three things will calm me down; a drink, a chat or a blog post. Preferably all three in one. Sometimes, like tonight, that chat is with myself but I find that chats between Lizi, myself and I always lead to some interesting thoughts. And where else to start but where every girl's mind should be on Halloween - birth control pills/injections for men, yikes!

Now this is something I've seen news and 'news' articles floating around the web about since...oof, at least since I started using social media. So say 8 years ago, or at least this was the first time I'd heard of the idea. And as a slightly overweight, spotty and angsty fourteen-year-old you see such things and think "Yes!! There is justice in the world!", then you suddenly forget about it as you're distracted by somebody who sits behind you in your Physics class sending you a chicken on Farmville (admit it, you've had similar moments). Yet years later, in your twenties - older and a little wiser at least -, your braces finally off and you've wrecked your teeth from too many drunken attempts at drinking from a glass without a straw instead of sucking your thumb... You see it again. Almost at the point of completion... And it's still "a long way off" in case men get sad.

 Yes, after one too many: cat-calls, unsolicited dick pics, gropes, sexual assaults, threats of violence, unwanted opinions, put-downs, manipulations; something which could potentially delayed and forgotten about in case it could be bad for men.

 Story. Of. Every. Woman's. Fucking. Life.

 As the possibility of birth control for men has grown closer and closer - the risks and side effects sensationalised, a potential release date, it makes me wonder: given the excessive side effects given to birth control for those of us with a uterus, if it were to be developed today, would something with so many detrimental side effects would they be approved for use? Or like in the case of the pill would the side effects be listed but the extent of them be swept under the rug? When women taking progesterone-based birth control are 34% more likely to be prescribed antidepressants, and these statistics only recently having been published, it beggars belief that they would be approved today. That's not even starting on the excessive physical side effects.

  This has led to a lot of angry women, understandably. Many women have shouted back, saying that it's now time for men to bare the brunt of these side effects that we have for decades too. And I agree with them too, I really do. Given the state of my mental health it's gotten me thinking, for the past seven years I've been pumped full of synthetic hormones in some way or another (both pills, the injection, mirena coil). What are they actually doing to my mind and body? I've gotten an appointment booked with my GP and will be running it past my CPN (psychiatric nurse) to see whether switching to something non-hormonal, such as a copper coil, could potentially do me some good. It's not fair that women should be more or less expected to fill themselves full of synthetic hormones to avoid the 'punishment' of getting pregnant if they should dare want to have sex. 

 I was put on these hormones at a time when my body was still developing, when I was still trying to figure out who I was. The pill was meant to be a solution to try and calm me down, help me handle my periods better at a time when everything was still settling down and finding its feet. And it terrifies me that after years of trial and error that I may not know myself without synthetic hormones, it really fucking scares me. But it's gotten me thinking, and anybody who knows me knows that it physically pains me to write this, what about the men? Sorry, excuse me while I vomit and berate myself for even typing that but hear me out. While suicide rates for women have increased in the past few years, they are still three times higher for men. Do we really want to see this increase? And keep in mind the horrific state of mental health services at the minute. 

 I'm looking at a solution to this in the same way I explain socialism to people. It's not about fighting to all be on the same, shitty minimum wage that nobody can survive on; it's about fighting for a decent living wage for everybody. In this case I don't want more men to be put at risk of mental and physical health issues, I want to see a fuck-off-massive improvement in current hormonal contraception for women. Make sure that the pill, the coil, implants, what have you, all come with the lowest risk possible for women's mental and physical health before we start saying everyone should suffer the same.

 Now, shock-horror, as you've probably guessed by now I'm not a doctor. But I'm somebody with a uterus who is pretty scared of the idea of more side effects from my birth control. And somebody who enjoys having sex and not having children. And I would really like to be able to continue having sex and not getting pregnant while not being at risk of uterus perforation, hair loss and all kinds of cysts. Is this really too much to ask?

Thank You Body Form! #PeriodPride

(Some quarter to four musings about adverts)

Just seen the new (well I say new, first time I've seen it) advert for Body Form sanitary towels and I was actually really fucking impressed! No sarcasm, believe it or not, I'm actually praising something for once. Regular readers who enjoy rants may be disappointed but bare with me, there will be ranting about other sanitary products.

I currently can't find a YouTube link for the ad or any news articles on it but a little research has shown that Body Form are getting good on their adverts and steering away from the traditional shying away from menstruation that a lot of others tend to do. (I'll edit and add these in when I find them).

Like I say it's almost four in the morning, sat up watching telly before bed and the advert comes on the telly. I'm so used to seeing adverts for sanitary products and wanting to tear my fucking hair out!! Fair enough there has been a big move towards pseudo-feminist advertising of products aimed towards women/those in need of sanitary products/other femme products; however their main message is that you can only be an awesome, confident lady type IF you buy their products. While there's still a lot of this I'll finish that ramble and get into my main point.

This is the first advert where I've seen a sanitary product being USED.

Now some readers may recoil in horror here I don't mean used as in being bled on, I mean used as in being applied to underwear. It may seem silly but this is a big step forward, and a huge leap from that awful blue stuff that is always used in ads to show how absorbent something is. Seriously, why is it blue!? If your vagina is producing anything blue that you can't account for (example: this week I'd been wearing new jeans after their first wash and things got a little indigo in the knicker department) then PLEASE SEE A GYNO!!

It was just nice to see for a change that yes, those of us who have periods tend to get them in our underwear department (hard to believe I know!!). It was such a nice surprise that I actually had to rewind the TiVo and show my partner the bit where the pad is applied to the knickers. And that such an important part of the menstrual cycle isn't being overlooked.

Now there will be a part two to this on my issues with the majority of sanitary products - bleach, chemicals, the pharmaceutical side of it etc - but as it's just past 4 now I'll leave you on this nice one and go to sleep feeling a little better than I did earlier!