Sounds like Thursday…
I’m not sure how many times a person can use the struggle bus metaphor before it becomes woefully insufficient. Things are precarious at best as of late my friends. The government is crumbling before our eyes, my taxes are seriously screwed up and I have no idea how to fix it, and nobody can seem to figure out why my south forty is on fire. No matter how dire a circumstance most topics are at least somewhat breachable in polite conversation. Historically speaking, however, the mere mention of female anatomy sends grown adults screaming for the hills. It’s quite absurd really, and there isn’t an accurate number for how many women suffer from a myriad of health crises in silence because of this taboo.
Vagina isn’t a dirty word, but you wouldn’t know that from the look of horror etched in people’s faces when it’s said aloud. For the last (looks at watch) nineteen days my lady box has burned with the fire of a thousand suns. The pain goes from at least tolerable to agonizing, feel it in my teeth, hands shaking, black spots inducing, kill me now torture. It has wreaked havoc on my sleep, stolen my productivity, my social life, and my dignity. The doctor has confirmed that I don’t have a UTI, an STD, or a bacterial infection. I’ve taken three full courses of three different antibiotics and am on a regimen of supplements including a vaginal health probiotic, something to strengthen a weak bladder, something to prevent bacteria from sticking to my urethra, and more recently, both vaginal estrogen and an estrogen patch all to no avail.
I have been referred to an OBGYN, but they can’t even see me for two weeks and I can nearly guarantee you that visit will be an abject waste of my time. How do I know this? Personal experience and the lived experiences of millions of women everywhere. If you take to Google looking for answers about calamities tied to women’s health, you will find hundreds and thousands of women sobbing and beating the walls declaring practically the same thing, “No one is listening, no one is helping”. I have personally talked to dozens of women who echo this sentiment and have their own stories of neglect and abuse at the hands of an inept medical system.
Most of us do exactly what I’m doing right now, scour the internet in search of answers and share our experiences so that we may reclaim some shred of dignity and find that we are not alone. Based on preliminary research of medical journals and other women’s first hand accounts, I have settled on two possibilities. First is vaginal atrophy, more recently known as genitourinary syndrome of menopause. A staggering 50% of menopausal women will struggle with this to some degree, and yet very few people are talking about it.
I had a total hysterectomy in 2018 - uterus, cervix, and ovaries. I was not given hormone replacement therapy at first because of my complex medical history. About three years ago, I was given the lowest possible dose of Estradiol, but it didn’t help as far as I could tell, so I went off of it. Fast forward to today where I learned that there are estrogen receptors on our bladders and urethra AND vaginal atrophy can wreak serious havoc causing many of the symptoms of a chronic UTI. Why the hell has this never been mentioned to me by a doctor? When I mentioned this to my general practitioner, she said that it’s not possible for my issue to be related because of the sudden onset. What? This is not sudden. Yes, this particular problem presented itself about 18 days ago, but I’ve been without a uterus for nearly seven years now. Can we not consider the possibility?
The second feasible option I’ve come across is interstitial cystitis. Interstitial cystitis (or IC, for those of us who are tired of big medical words) is basically when your bladder decides to be an overdramatic little bitch for no good reason. It’s a chronic condition that makes you feel like you have a UTI all the time — but surprise! There’s no infection. Just pain, maybe some agonizing burning, pressure, and the constant urge to pee like you drank six gallons of water, even if you didn’t. There’s no specific, conclusive test, and treatment mostly comes down to trial and error.
So, I’m currently sitting at the “wait and see” depot waiting for a train that might never arrive trying desperately to hold onto some semblance of normality while my lady box continues to burn. Every fiber of my being is a raw nerve and now, the government is saying they issued a refund on my taxes which they 100% did not, and the amount they supposedly issued is off by several thousand dollars. My tax preparer isn’t giving me any conclusive answers or direction on what to do now, and the government as we know it continues to crumble around us. Sounds about like a Thursday, am I right?