Friday, March 4, 2022

Endometri-Are You Fucking Kidding Me-osis

When I talk about my life over the last 12 months, I always define two traumas, the accident and my brother. Recently, I realized there really is a third trauma that we never really acknowledged because the effects were mostly invisible.

In 2017, I had an IUD put in. I'm not going to lie, the insertion was AWFUL. I was gripping the table so hard that I'm shocked my nails didn't go right through it. It hurt for DAYS or maybe even weeks after. I was cursing my doctors and their recommendation of the IUD, but I figured, they are the doctors and they know best.

We went with the IUD because I have terrible periods. I have the kind of periods where you don't even want to get out of bed because everything hurts. I don't tolerate the pill well, which is why we switched.

Fast forward to fall of 2018. My periods essentially disappeared, but I started getting the worst and most intense cramps of my life. They hurt so badly that I could feel them in my butt. I called the doctor to see if that was normal. They told me to take some ibuprofen and ride it out for a couple of months.

I ended up in the doctor's office in Feb 2019 for an unrelated reason. While there, they were all "lets check on your IUD since you were complaining." The PA couldn't find the strings. She asked if there was any chance it came out. I was thinking in my head, there is no way it could have come out without noticing. I assume it hurts just as much to come out as it did when it went in. I told her no. She sent me for an ultrasound.

Thanks to the healthcare system in this country, it took me a bit to find a place that does ultrasounds and takes my insurance. They couldn't see me for two more weeks. I waited the two weeks and went and had the ultrasound. The tech confirmed what I knew, that the IUD was still there, even though I'm fairly certain they aren't supposed to tell you anything.

I received a call the following week from the PA telling me it was fine to do business as usual because everything looked okay. She just needed to confirm something with the doctor.

Another week or so went by, it is now early March, and she finally called me back. I answered and her answer was "oh shoot, I have to call you back. The doctor just texted me and told me not to call you yet."

WHAT? If that's not an anxiety trigger, I don't know what is.

After waiting for what seemed like ten years for her to call me back (it was probably about an hour), she tells me that the ultrasound was actually inconclusive other than confirming it was still in place. They were concerned that the IUD was embedded in the wall of my uterus or it possibly poked a hole and was stuck. Could I come in the next day?

Again. WHAT?

It was already after 4:30 pm, I couldn't just not show up to work the next day. I asked if I had to come in tomorrow because that was going to be hard. She goes well, tomorrow or we can see you in three weeks. WAIT. Do I need to come in TOMORROW or is THREE WEEKS okay!? That seems to be a big difference when you just gave me very concerning news.

I made the appointment for three weeks after reassurance that three weeks was fine. I am shocked I didn't have a complete meltdown in those weeks. My anxiety was all over the place. I was a mess. I attempted to google potential IUD perforations, but of course that is the worst thing you can do. I freaked myself out.

I go in to see the doctor. He says a whole bunch of really scary things that I didn't quite process. He kept throwing around the words surgery and unsure. After ten minutes of his explanation of all possible (terrifying) outcomes, he asks me what I want to do. Ummmmmmmm IDK. My brain feels like Jello. You are the doctor. Let's just go with your recommendation of taking it out.

He goes in and tugs. Boop. That sucker came right out. He goes, "That was one of the easiest removals! No cause for concern. It wasn't stuck on anything."

WHAT THE FUCK. THREE PLUS WEEKS OF TORTURE FOR THAT!?

I had contacted my urologist to see what birth control pill was tolerated by most people with Interstitial Cystitis so that I could be prepared if the recommendation was to go back on the pill. Armed with that information, I asked the OBGYN for that pill when he told me wanted me to wait three months before considering putting an IUD back in. I was a little concerned because I went off the pill because my system doesn't like it, but I was following the doctor's lead.

Welp, my insurance didn't covered that exact pill. Instead of doing the paperwork to see if the insurance would approve it, the PA approved a different pill (kept that info filed).

I started the pill. Almost immediately, I wasn't myself. I was crying all of the time for no reason, my anxiety was so high that I was barely functioning, and I was sleeping all of the time. After about two weeks, I sent a long, detailed message to my doctor about what was happening. Someone who was not my doctor replied and said to come back in and they would put the IUD back in. I made another appointment and tried to wait it out.

After about three weeks on the pill, I got a no warning, gushing period at work. AT WORK. WITH CHILDREN. It was the kind that when you coughed or laughed, you knew it was just flying out. I was with 15 4-year olds and essentially trapped. I was thankfully wearing black pants.

I finally was able to flag someone down to cover the class while I ran to the bathroom. It was like the red wedding in my pants. It was everywhere. All over my clothes and me. I woman-ed up. I wiped everything as best as I could, wrapped my underwear in layers of paper towels (I didn't have any pads with me), put my chin up and walked back into the room and finished the day.

I called my mom immediately after work, hysterical. Then I called the doctor. They found an opening for me for the next day. I took it. When I got home, I went straight upstairs. My dad, who can't hear, walked by the bathroom and mistakenly pushed open the ajar door. He saw me standing over a toilet full of blood, my underwear in the sink, and blood just everywhere (I had pants on still). I was standing there crying hysterically and not really forming words he could make out. He freaked out, called my mom, screamed at her to get home like she wasn't the first call I made. I took a shower and tried to calm down.

I go to the doctor the first thing the next morning. He walks in and asks what has been going on. I tell him. He tells me he wasn't going to do anything for me that day. I flipped out. I told him his office told me that he would put the IUD back in. He didn't know what I was talking about. He never got my message. The person who replied "replied without knowing my full medical chart." My mistake... but I assumed that whoever answered ran it by you, but sorrrrrrry.

I, of course, was not cool. My hormones were all over the place. I started bawling, practically screaming that I couldn't live my life for three more months feeling like this. He essentially told me to either stay on the pill and be miserable or go off the pill and control myself and use condoms. I flipped out even more and screamed, I CAN'T NOT BE ON SOMETHING. YOU KNOW HOW BAD MY PERIODS ARE. THEY ARE DEBILITATING.

He pretty much was like oh well and told me to seek a therapist for my emotional issues. EXCUSE ME. I didn't have these issues until three weeks ago. I feel confident in saying they are a result of the pill. After much crying and pleading, he tells me he will put me on something called the mini pill and we will see how that goes. He tells me to get dressed and meet him in his office and we will discuss it more.

I get dressed and try to pull it together. When I go in his office, I tell him I wasn't happy that the pill I asked for was subbed out for another. He was surprised by this information and a little annoyed because they aren't the same pill. Again, people making decisions about my healthcare without knowing my file (eye roll).

He now drops an information bomb... he thinks I have endometriosis. Excuse me? You have been my doctor for about 8 years. I've always described my periods the same and only now you are thinking this? Mr. Tops in the Field? He wanted me to see someone in his practice who specializes in endometriosis. He was again using scary words and telling me how he will probably want to do a laparoscopy and drill holes in my abdomen. Here again, I lost it. I started sobbing that I can't wait three more months to see another doctor. I couldn't feel like this for three more months. He told me it wouldn't be three months. I was like IT TAKES THREE MONTHS TO GET AN APPOINTMENT WITH YOU, WHY WOULD THIS BE DIFFERENT!? AND I'M A NEW PATIENT FOR HIM. He reassured me it wouldn't.

I walked out to reception, asked to see the other doctor, and they told me it would take THREE MONTHS to see him. OH SHOCKING. I started yelling that someone better get my doctor on the phone. He's in his office and tell him I can't wait three months. After a lot of agitation and tears, they found a way to fit me in the next day.

I, not very hopefully, go to see the new doctor. with my mom He was AMAZING. I was still screaming and crying about everything that was happening. I was upset that my other doctor wasn't HEARING me.. he just wanted me to get a therapist.

After two hours of sitting with me and examining me (apologies to any other patients who were scheduled), he calmly explained that he did think I have endometriosis.

He was not going to do the laparoscopy because based on my descriptions and what he felt in my pelvis, it is not a severe enough case where he would want to remove tissue. He was not going to put me through surgery just to confirm what he already knew.

He told me ultrasounds are generally inconclusive about anything other than confirming the IUD is there (why didn't the other doctor know this or consult him?). I explained about the cramps and how I tracked them and they seemed pretty consistent every four weeks. I asked if it was just the cramps I would get with a period and just no period (same thing I had asked the first doctor to confirm). He told me yes, that was normal.

He laid out my options of how I could proceed. I chose to put the IUD back in. He went over the different ones he would recommend. We chose the same one I had before because I didn't want to change and risk a bad experience/toleration. He put it back in. Guess what... it just felt like a pinch. None of the pain from the first time. This doctor is honestly a dream.

He counseled me that he would like me to stay on the mini pill to try to help with the cramps, but it was up to me. After a few days, I took myself off the mini pill because I felt like if my options were to deal with cramps monthly or everyday feeling terrible, I will take the cramps.

It was so validating and relieving to felt heard and seen. It was an awful experience to end up legitimately right back where I started.

I kind of filed this whole ordeal away and haven't really thought much about that time period (it is pretty blurry) or the aftermath. I've been examining my relationship with a fine toothed comb, that's what triggered this memory.

I was legit out of my mind when my hormones were very clearly out of wack. For example, the one night I demanded to go out and "do something fun" ... but then I just started crying for no reason and couldn't stop.

After things seemed to level back out and the doctor put the IUD back in, it was kind of never acknowledged it again. I think my hormones are just finally leveling back out and I'm feeling more like myself.

Invisible illnesses are hard to live with. I certainly know that as my diagnoses list continues to grow. People think you are fine because you look fine. Spoiler: not the case.

I should have realized sooner because looking back, I was in a constant state of anxiety and living on Xanax for months. I kind of just attributed it to the stress of my relationship, the lack of a job, moving in together, but I think a good portion of it was coming from the imbalance in my body.

Being in that constant, emotionally heightened mindset is exhausting. I was angry, short fused, and irritated. I was probably difficult to be around. I wish that I had thought about my hormones sooner, but it was even out of sight, out of mind for me. I wasn't crying all of the time, so things must be back to normal. I think that was a false assumption.

Maybe if I had realized sooner, I wouldn't have spun so far out of control. By not thinking about what was happening in my body, I hurt myself the most.







Yes, Grandma. Modern medicine is a struggle.

Monday, April 16, 2018

This World is Mine for the Taking... Even with Chronic Pain

What is it like to travel with chronic pain issues? In one word: hard. That statement comes with a disclaimer though. It may be hard, but it is not impossible. It is not impossible and it is definitely worth the struggle.

To recap for those who may not know or remember, I have interstitial cystitis, pelvic floor dysfunction, and vulvar vestibulitis. What do all those words mean? Chronic pain. To read my full story, click here. The most basic and quick explanation I can give you is that my pelvic floor muscle are too tight and spasm randomly while my nerves in that area sometimes fire pain for no reason. My bladder is also in a constant state of feeling like I have a UTI. Fun right?

I spent hours and hours in and out of doctors over the years and finally have a routine that works fairly well for me. I still have good days, bad days, and why is this happening to me days. It is easy to allow these feelings to hold me back. Some days I just lay on the floor and cry because it is so frustrating, and sometimes so painful. It can be hard sometimes to accept my physical limitations at just 31 years old. Do I let it hold me back? Not usually. I still try to live a normal-ish life and do the things that I want to.

I travel often and it's a passion I've always had. How am I able to travel? I'm not going to lie. It is difficult. It is full of real, true anxiety and sometimes panic attacks. (Here is a second disclaimer: Find a doctor that you can have a good relationship with. Be honest about your travel plans and have an open discussion with him or her.)

Packing is by far the most daunting part of the trip. Preparing for the unknown is never easy, but you have to face it head on and just go for it.

I count out all of my different medications and take careful inventory. My medications take the longest to pack and fill most of my bag. I bring all types of medications, supplements, and instant heating pads. I think through every worst possible scenario and try to prepare. Are there going to be toilets accessible? Better pack thick pads in case of an accident. What if I have a bladder flare because the foods are too spicy or I eat something I shouldn't? Better pack my two rescue meds and heating pads. What if my anxiety isn't manageable? Let's throw in Xanax just in case.

Okay, I'm packed with enough pills for a small village. Now what? I get on the plane and I hope for the best.

I take as many precautions as possible to prevent any and all of my conditions from flaring up. I make sure to wear supportive footwear so my body has the proper support it needs and doesn't strain itself more than necessary. I wear clothes that have stretch to them so that my abdomen doesn't have additional pressure on it. I do my stretching exercises every day, and sometimes a second time if it has been a physically strenuous day.

While these steps certainly help ease travel worries, the most important thing that I do is I talk about it. I tell people that I have medical conditions. It is not something to be embarrassed about. I've repeated my story so many times that I could tell it in my sleep. Telling my story didn't used to be so easy. I would get teary, cry, and even sometimes just get angry and frustrated trying to express how I am feeling. Opening yourself up in such a personal way can be exhausting and scary, especially when you don't know the audience well.

I travel often with a group of people that I do not know through a travel company. I travel solo with them and it is the best experience I have ever had. It is essentially a group of strangers that come together and support each other to have an amazing cultural experience. I have gone to Iceland, Mexico, and Peru with them and I'm planning my fourth trip. I might not know the people traveling with me for long, but I need to depend on them for the next week or so and I want them to understand who I am and where I'm coming from. The best way to do that is to open that scary imaginary door and share your story.

If the people you are traveling with know what you are going through, they are able to have more compassion and understanding. If they don't understand what you are dealing with, they may be quicker to make snap judgements and think things like: "Are we really stopping so she can use the bathroom again? Didn't we just do this?"

When I was in Peru, I had very high levels of anxiety some days. My Spanish consists of basic verbs and reading a menu. In America, bathrooms are always around. Would it be the same in Peru? I shared my story and fears with the trip leader and other travelers. The trip leader made sure that whenever I needed a toilet, he found one. He knew that I was extremely concerned about visiting Machu Picchu, as it only has one bathroom and it is located outside of the entrance gates. Not to worry, he again took care of everything and Machu Picchu was one of the most amazing experiences I have had to date... and I didn't have any incidents ;).

It is important to have a support system with you, but it is also important to have a support system at home. Sometimes, you need someone to listen to you in the middle of the night because you are in pain or you are scared/worried/concerned about the next day. Having someone who knows you and is on your side is crucial in every day life, and especially when traveling. They are able to provide words of support and encouragement, or just listen.

I do push myself too hard sometimes... and it does usually backfire. It is important to try and acknowledge and respect my limitations. If I don't, I need to remember that there may be consequences. When traveling, I try to listen to my body. Okay, I pushed you really hard for a week and now you are angry with me. I'm going to take today and just lounge in bed, read a book, maybe take a leisurely walk. Is it okay to take a day to recover even when you are in a new and exotic place that you may never visit again? Yes. The answer is always yes. It is also okay to feel guilty about doing so. I do. But, I also try and keep in mind that this is what I need. If I keep pushing when my body is saying no, my body is going to push back even harder when trying to tell me to slow down.

The bottom line is, traveling with chronic issues is challenging but possible. I prepare myself the best I can for all situations, and I don't let my diagnoses run my life. Taking a chance and having a few bad days is better than sitting at home and dreaming of what can be, at least for me.





Yes, Grandma. I am probably stronger than I realize.


Friday, July 7, 2017

Peru, I Think I Love You

When I first booked my trip to Peru with Under30Experiences, I did it with the sole intention of wanting to see Machu Picchu, as many people do. With the changes in regulations and the constant chatter of it closing to the public, I knew I had to get there sooner than later.

The breathtaking experience of Machu Picchu was everything I thought it would be. What I didn't expect was to fall in love with Peru as a whole. I loved the city of Cusco, the food, the culture, and the crazy amount of llama souvenirs (and the prices/exchange rate).

This was my first experience in South America. My love affair for Peru started slowly and accelerated quickly (as many love stories do). I flew into Lima and our first day was spent there exploring the city and learning about the culture. It was a great way to get to know the 14 other people on the trip and begin to form connections and bonds. As always, there were such positive, open minded people on the trip. It always amazes me how fast you get to know people on these trips because you are forced into these experiences that make you rely on others for support in many different ways.

The next day, we flew to Cusco. Let me tell you one thing about Cusco, the altitude is no joke. At about 11,000 feet up, my heart was racing and walking seemed to take a ton of effort. To battle the altitude issues, Peruvians use coca leaves. I'm not sure if they really helped or not, but the coca tea was pretty delicious.

We spent the next day acclimating to the new altitude so that we would be ready for a trek to Machu in two days. This is when I fell head over heels in love with Peru. The streets are like something out of a storybook or Disney movie. They wind and twist, yet you always seem to end up in the main square. There are shops selling some of the best souvenirs I've ever seen. A llama print scarf for $5? I'll take two! Seven llama key chains for $1.50? I NEED that! Baby alpaca blankets for under $100, sweaters with llama prints, and llama leg warmers (you know I def bought those), just to name a few things.

Not only was the shopping addictive, so was the energy of the city. We saw a parade in Lima the first day, but I hadn't realized yet how much Peru loves parades. In six days, I saw three parades. It's hard not to love a place that has so much joy about life.

You can see why I love Peru so much and I haven't even mentioned the food. I can be somewhat of a boring eater, but I really enjoyed the food. Who doesn't love getting french fries with pretty much everything you order. Meat, rice, and french fries? I'm in. I also pushed myself WAYYYYY out of my comfort zone and tried guinea pig and alpaca meat (for those of you wondering, guinea pig is not something I would ever recommend to anyone. My best description of it is "gamey." The alpaca was pretty tasty but then I felt insanely guilty eating it after taking the most amazing selfie with one).

While I thought Machu Picchu was going to be the best part of the trip, I'm not quite sure it was. (It was amazing, don't get me wrong.)

I know I promote them a lot, but U30X creates life changing trips. This was my third trip with them and I have to say, I was able to experience the true Peruvian culture because of their mindful planning.

On my own, I would have never planned a day to spend on a farm. I took part in a traditional ceremony giving thanks to all that the earth gives to us and then harvested oats shoulder to shoulder with the members of the Chinchero community.

All week we had a guide that grew up in the Cusco area. To be able to spend so much time with someone local to the area is incredible. Roland may by my new best friend (he might not know it yet though). He was able to answer any questions we have about Peru, the culture, their love of coca leaves, and provide insight into the true daily life in Peru.

We also had each other. When someone on the trip got sick in the oat field, we offered whatever we had in our bags to make her feel better. When someone had food poisoning, the traveler who is a doctor on the trip sat with her in a tiny bathroom to make sure she was okay. When I was worried about my bladder condition and the bathroom situation at Machu Picchu, Roland made sure I had access to a toilet. We laughed, vomited, and (some) drank a lot of pisco together.


The days scheduled to help acclimate us to the altitude were some of the best I've ever experienced. U30X has a way of building their trips to have momentum and build the excitement with each day. As we left the farm to board the Inca Trail Train, I was sad that the trip was coming to a close in a little more than 24 hours.

On Macchu Picchu day, we woke up at 5 AM to begin our journey. From the moment I got on the bus heading up, it was an experience. The morning was foggy and contributed to the Disney like effect of the scenery on the trip. I felt like I was on my way to the most incredible ride, but it was real life. None of it was staged. I was really in the clouds (or the cloud forest as the locals call it).

After a morning of learning about Machu Picchu, why it was built, how it was built, we made the climb to the "postcard lookout" (aka the photo all of your friends who have been there have posted). With the altitude burning my lungs with every step up, it was such a great feeling of accomplishment to reach our summit.

As I stood on top of a giant mountain looking out at this awe inspiring structure the Incans built hundreds of years ago, all I could think about was how lucky I was to be able to be part of such an incredible journey.



























Yes, Grandma. I am capable of pushing my limits.

Monday, April 24, 2017

Light in the Dark

Hi. My name is Kristen and I have depression.

I recently binge watched 13 Reasons Why (like many of you). After that, I saw posts and articles flying around the Internet. Some made me happy and some made me sad. As a society, we have made such progress in identifying and treating depression, but we still have a very long way to go in compassion and understanding. For those who have never personally dealt with it in themselves or in a loved one, it seems there is still some disconnect.

Depression presents itself in many different ways than "I am sad and want to cry all of the time." And sometimes it is frustrating or difficult to identify the symptoms as depression.

As far back as 15, I remember sitting in doctor's offices year after year and looking at the poster of "Do you have these depression symptoms?" and telling them that I felt at least 75% of them applied to me. Year after year, they would just say things like "Oh, that's just growing up" or "It's puberty and typical adolescent feelings." But, I knew it wasn't.

My mom didn't understand. She would yell at me. She was frustrated because she didn't fully understand what I was feeling. I didn't "have anything to be depressed about." I was at the top of my class academically, I was in clubs, I got along with my family. In 2001, people didn't understand that it was just that my brain doesn't make the right chemicals. I wasn't sad over life, but I was sad. (As a side note, my mom has come a long way since then.)

I've seen people criticize 13 Reasons Why because Hannah's parents were super involved in her life and they surely would have known. Hannah had a good relationship with her parents so she most definitely would have told them how she was feeling.

I think those people were missing some of the point of the series. Depression is still tricky because people feel shameful in admitting it. They also don't know how people will react if they tell them. I grew up in a home with what you can probably call a helicopter mom. She was always there. Did she know that sometimes I thought about what would happen if I ran my car off the road into the barricade? Or that I would lay in bed wondering if a terminal disease would be all that bad? I would obsess over who would come to my funeral and who would feel guilty that I was gone. Did she know that either? No. She didn't. She probably didn't even know until she read this. So yes, I was on that scary level of depression and I don't think anyone realized how extreme it was.

It also did not help that high school was not my happy place, but I spent a majority of my time there. I had my guidance counselor tell me that I "must have tired blood" when I couldn't stop yawning in his office one day. On top of everything else, I had my own mean girl in school and then another at home... it was not fun. Because of my depression, most days I was not able to handle and process the external factors how I should have because of what was happening internally.

Then I found something to connect to. Something that made me feel something when I was desperate to feel anything. Some people don't understand why I love Andrew McMahon so much, but I truly have always felt that his music saved my life. Back then, his band was Something Corporate. For the first time, I connected to something on such a deep level. His music gave me hope, It gave me a sense of not feeling alone. His live performances were electric and I was hypnotized. So mom, next time you complain about me spending money to see another one of his concerts, you should instead thank him for saving my life.

It wasn't until I was 25 that a doctor took me seriously. She started me on antidepressants. I was on them for two years but near the end, they started making me feel off. I didn't feel like me. I felt like I had this weird high all of the time and that I was only fake happy when I wanted to be actually happy. I didn't want to be on pills anymore. I was tired of pills. I hated pills. Pills were the worst. At the time, my friend said to me, "If you had a heart problem, would you think twice about taking the pills?" and that one sentence has stuck with me for years.

Since then, I've seen many things on the Internet with similar messages, and it is true. I wouldn't think twice about taking medication for a heart problem. I talked to my doctor and we tried a new antidepressant. I understand why people get frustrated because the first pill you try isn't always the best for your body. It might not be what you need as every person's body has different compatibilities. Some people say you should only be on antidepressants for a year, but I've been on them for five. I will probably always be on them because I do not have depression because of a life situation. I have depression caused by chemicals in my brain.

I am one of the lucky ones though. Some people aren't aware of what they are feeling or why. Some people don't have a support system. Some people never seek the help they need for various reasons.

There are some days that still get the best of me and I cry for hours for no reason. But, I know when those days come, I have an understanding, caring, supportive group of people that will listen to whatever I have to say through all the tears. They remind me that I'm not in this alone. I am not the only one who has these feelings, and tomorrow is always a new day.

I also struggle because there is someone in my life that I care very much about, but this person often shuts down on bad days instead of calling out. I carried this person's burdens for years and it weighed me down. Then there was a series of scary, serious events and it devastated me. I have always been so open about my battle but this person didn't come to me. I don't think this person realized/realizes the chain reaction that actions cause and how many lives were being ruined in the process. This person has since gotten help, but it's something that still sits in the forefront of my mind and probably always will. But, I have come to learn that this person's problems are not my problems. I can only manage my own thoughts and feelings. I'm not responsible for problems that are not my own. Once that weight lifted (and shifted to additional people), I felt lighter and happier.

I have always been, and will always be, a strong advocate of utilizing mental health resources. You do not have to do it on your own. You do not need to be scared of "being dependant on pills." If you have a true chemical imbalance, I do believe that medication is a good option, but if you don't, there are other ways to help yourself.

The best advice I have to offer anyone about anything is that you are never alone, you never need to feel that way, and you need to remember that.




Yes, Grandma. There's a lot that I don't know and a lot that I'm still learning.

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Vagina is Not a Dirty Word

There have been a lot of posts going around the internet lately about what it's like to live with an invisible illnesses and not to judge what you can't see or know. As someone who lives with chronic pain, I support these articles as knowledge is power. What these posts don't address are how we are still ashamed to talk about certain diagnoses.

I have a tri-fold chronic pain diagnosis of insterstitial cystitis, vulvar vestibulitis, and pelvic floor dysfunction. For those of you who don't speak doctor, the first one means pain of the bladder and the second two are basically pain of the vagina and parts around it.

OMG! I said it... VAGINA. What a dirty word. There are still some people that feel these female diseases shouldn't be talked about because they are something that should be private. Why? Because talking about the female reproductive organs makes you uncomfortable? My brothers grew up in a house with three females and still get super awkward when period or tampon are said.

I understand why these things used to not be talked about. It was a different world. But then there was the 70s and all of the sexual revolutions that have happened since. Shows like Sex and the City and Girls have brought female sex lives out of the dark. By why do people still feel awkward when I tell them I essentially have a vagina that malfunctions?

Changing the stigma around talking about female health issues is something I feel deeply and passionately about since it is the life I live every day. I didn't do anything wrong to earn these medical labels, and even if I did, it should still be talked about so people can be educated.

It took me countless doctors and many hours in doctors offices to get a diagnosis and treatment plans. Why? Because until ten to fifteen years ago, women who complained about pain in their vaginal area were essentially told to suck it up and there was nothing wrong with them.

I didn't know I had any of these problems until 2010 I was 24 when I started having sex. Yes, there's something else taboo about me. I chose to wait. But there I was, an intelligent, educated 24 year old who was afraid to ask people why sex hurt so much. At first I just thought it was because I'd never done it before. But after months of painful intercourse, I knew something wasn't right. It also started affecting other parts of my life. I noticed pain in my pelvis if I was on my feet too long, if I sat in certain positions, and when exercising. Some doctors believe that you are born with these issues and they aren't brought out until they are aggravated by an activity like vaginal sex.

It also affected my sex life because my boyfriend at the time didn't understand why I had to make him stop. He got frustrated because I don't really have orgasms (female orgasm, another thing that "shouldn't" be talked about). He was also an asshole and not understanding, but that is a different story.

Had there been more information about different forms of vulvadynia at the time, maybe it wouldn't have taken so many doctors to figure out the issue. If talking about sexual issues wasn't so taboo, maybe I wouldn't have been so uncomfortable asking other people outside of the medical field questions and would have been pointed down a more effective road sooner.

The good news is that while these diagnosis are permanent, the pain doesn't have to be. My vaginal issues were officially diagnosed in 2012 have been under control since about 2013 with a treatment plan that involves medication and physical therapy exercises.

Yes, I have had physical therapy for my vagina. Yes, it involves a physical therapist putting on rubber gloves with lube and manually manipulating your pelvic floor muscles. No, it is not as awkward as it sounds. No, it is not sexually arousing but yes, it does feel good... like if you were to stretch a tight calf muscle.

The bladder is another story. Once the issues the pelvic floor was causing were cleared up, some symptoms remained, some got worse, and some new ones joined the party. I had intense pressure in my abdomen, I felt like I had to pee constantly, and it never felt like my bladder fully emptied. It was frustrating because UTI tests kept coming back negative, but I was having all of the symptoms of a UTI. I was first diagnosed with interstital cystistis in 2014. It is currently 2017 and I still haven't found a treatment plan that works for me. I did, however, four urologists later finally find a doctor that not only specializes in IC, but also treats the individual and doesn't just say, "this is always how I treat IC" even if it is clearly not working for the patient. Because of her proactive care, I learned two weeks ago that I have a definite crack in my bladder lining after an outpatient procedure. What this means exactly, I'm not sure because I was still pretty drugged from the procedure when she told me, but I have a follow up soon.

I think it is also important to note here that if your doctor isn't providing care that is beneficial to you, there will always be another doctor who has another opinion and might have better care plans for you. It is also important to have a doctor you trust to tell your most intimate details to. By holding back or giving half truths, you are not doing yourself any favors in receiving the best care possible.

The "female" problems are harder to talk to a lot of people about, but for me, living with IC is more difficult because I can usually predict a pelvic flare and take actions to prevent it. IC ones usually come out of nowhere and are extremely difficult to calm. When I'm sexually active, it could go either way though.

IC is also more difficult for people to grasp the conditions and actual disease. Even my own family doesn't completely understand the disease. They don't understand that when there is a bad flare, sometimes it hurts to move. Walking from the front door to the car seems like an impossible task because every step sends unbearable pain to my abdomen. Like I said, a flare can come on at any time, usually with little warning. During a bad flare, I have anxiety about leaving the house. I panic about how long until I get where I am going and will there be a toilet there. I worry about how close I will be to a bathroom and the ease of accessing it. Bless the creator of Xanax.

This also doesn't always make dating easy, especially when I was younger. Imagine trying to explain to a 25 year old male that you can't always have sex because some days it hurts too much but then other days you are completely fine to bone away. They will think you are making it up or that it is in your head.

I've tried having this conversation at all stages of dating... near the beginning just to get it on the table, near the time where it might get sexual, after it gets sexual. I found that a lot of guys don't want to deal with it. I've been told I have too many problems. I've had a few never call me back after "the talk." (But I also don't have a great track record of picking decent guys.) The positive that I can say is that it has gotten easier as I've gotten older because 1- I just don't give a fuck about talking about it and will answer any questions without hesitation, no matter how weird or awkward they think they are. Sometimes I provide the information preemptively. 2- Guys have matured, somewhat, and don't run at the first sign of a problem. And they have learned that P in the V isn't the only way to get things done.

But, most of you would never know I deal with these things. You don't see it on the outside on a good day. And you might not see me at all on a bad day. Thankfully, the good days have been vastly out numbering the bad days, but you never know when the tables can turn.

I do still try to live life on my terms and not let my conditions stop me from doing the things I want to do. Sometimes I just have to take extra precautions, such as taking extra medication, doing additional stretches, or hiding a thermaheat pad under my clothes. I will say, I am not positive all of the time about my chronic pain. I am human. I spent many, many days in the begining crying behind closed doors that I would never be "normal" and that I would never find someone who would want to be with me because of my problems (note: I am still single, but it's my choice at the moment.) There are still days that I lay on the floor and cry about the hand that I've been dealt. But, the truth is, we all have our burdens and thankfully mine is manageable. I try to remind myself of that when I'm having a bad day. I also know that I will be okay. And if I'm not okay today, there is always tomorrow.



If you do have any questions about anything I wrote about, I'm very open. I'll answer anything (well, within reason).



Yes, Grandma. I really don't care who knows my personal business as long as someone walks away educated.

Friday, January 27, 2017

Why Solo Travel Has Been the Best Experience of My Life

See original post on Under30Experiences' blog here.
A common theme for me in 2016 for me was change. I learned change can be a very good thing, even if at the time it seems like the opposite. This year, I pushed myself out of my comfort zone completely. Here's what happened.

It all started with a phone call with one of my best friends. He had traveled with the group tour company Under30Experiences and felt that I would really connect with their mission and other like-minded travelers that go on the trips. He has always identified me as a bit of a lost soul, but I’m proud to say that I no longer fit that moniker.

After looking into the trip and calling the company, I booked a trip to Iceland. It was so incredible that after Iceland, I booked Tulum, Mexico. Now, I’m off to Peru in June.

This is the part of the story I like the best.

Traveling solo in a group is one of the best experiences I have ever had. Not only do you see amazing places and have amazing experiences, you open yourself up to meeting amazing people. You learn quickly not to hold yourself back. You push forward, no matter how uncomfortable or uncertain you are.

I like to trace my life events back and say, “If X never happened, than I would have never found Y,” especially when life seems rough and I can’t find up from down. 

My current life event chain looks like this.

If I hadn’t gone to the Philippines with my brother and taken time to do things solo while there, I would have never known that I was able to spend time completely alone in a country extremely different than my own. Doing that led me to book the trip to Iceland completely solo. 

If I had never booked the trip to Iceland, I would have never known just how far I could push my own boundaries. I didn’t have the safety net of my brother. It was just me. I would have also never met U30X Community manager, Jennifer DeSimone, and would never have had someone so much on my side helping me wade through the deep ends of life.

If I hadn’t lost my job in December, I wouldn’t have been forced to make moves so quickly. Losing my job was the best blessing in disguise. I was extremely unhappy and it probably showed. I had been forming an idea of what I wanted to do if I could do anything I wanted, but I wasn’t really sure where to go from there. Without Jen’s support (and my mom’s), I would have never applied to all of the graduate programs that I did. Last week I was accepted into an Early Childhood Master in Education program. This week I started my program.

I have a new level of confidence and a feeling of team support. I am now a part of a community that supports me.

Once you go on a trip with U30X, you gain a group of the most supportive people I’ve ever met - and people I have yet to meet in person. I have a network of alumni who live all over the world and have all kinds of different life experiences. Everyone is always willing to jump in and help others, whether it be a travel question or a job opportunity, among other things. It’s an incredible feeling being part of such a wonderful community.

As part of that community, I was pointed in the direction The Life Project Fellowship in Costa Rica based on heart-centered learning. Because someone in the community had taken the time to learn about me, my interests, and my journey, I was able to be set up with some awesome connections. 
Twenty essay questions later, and a stellar U30X recommendation, I will be on my way to Costa Rica this summer for four weeks to learn more about holistic education and myself. Twelve months ago, I would have never thought of even applying to such a program.

I have grown in ways that can’t be measured. 

Once you are brave enough to open yourself up to possibilities, the universe takes over and leads you on your way.  My life had been one big question mark for months, maybe even years. But, I am no longer scared of the unknown. I haven’t felt this sure and positive about something in a long time. For once in my life, I am letting the universe and my heart guide me. I don’t have a concrete plan, and I’m okay with that. 

I’m excited about where my journey has taken me and where it will take me, knowing that I have an entire community behind me.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Fact: I Met Beyonce

It was the summer of 2008. It may have been one of the coolest summers of my life. I was one of the few lucky ones chosen to intern with Columbia Records in New York City. It was as if all of the planets aligned and my dreams were coming true.

The internship was amazing. As an added bonus, I would occasionally see some of the artists walking around the office (The Afters and The Black Kids), but no one too notable. John Legend was working on his album that summer and I often heard his song "Green Light" pounding through the office, but I never saw him. (I mean POUNDING. One day, they knocked the photos hanging on the wall down from the vibrations) Steven Tyler was also in the office one day, but were weren't allowed to go and search for him. He unfortunately exited down the other hall and not did not pass my desk.

Beyonce's dog was often running around our floor (well, not running. She was very well behaved... except when she would poop on the carpet), but we never saw Beyonce. We suspected that Beyonce was there because why would her dog be there without her... but if she was, it was kept under tight wraps.

One fateful day, I was sitting in my boss's office. She was out in California, and I was in charge of giving the employees the Bruce Springsteen tickets they had ordered. While sitting at her desk, I swore I saw Beyonce walk by. By the time I actually processed the thought, stood up and walked (ran) to the door, there was no one in the hallway.

I wandered out and into the conference room that the one group of interns worked from. As soon as I got to the door, I heard them buzzing about Beyonce being in the building. As I'm standing in the doorway talking to another intern, I turn my head and see her walking out of the bathroom which was about 20 feet from where I was standing.

I instantly froze. Beyonce was walking straight towards me. BEYONCE WAS WALKING STRAIGHT TOWARDS ME. BEYONCE WAS WALKING STRAIGHT TOWARDS ME.

I didn't know what to do. I don't even think I could remember my own name at that moment. I was so flabbergasted that BEYONCE was right there that I didn't even try to lift my jaw from the ground. As I continued to awkwardly stare at her and not say anything, she got to where I was standing, stopped, waved, and said hello. I dumbly raised my hand, waved, and maybe(?) managed a smile. I wasn't even able to squeak out an ounce of air. I almost blacked out on the spot from nerves.

She continued down the hall, and I managed to continue breathing. I immediately ran back to my boss's office (let's be real, I probably stopped and posted it on facebook first) and called her to tell her that I just met Beyonce and I was now able to be hit by bus and not care. How often are you in the presence of someone THAT famous!? It was INSANE.

And she was really nice. People also often ask what she looked like in person. . She didn't have on makeup, her hair was in a ponytail, and she had on a white tank top, jeans, and high heels (of course). But she looked gorgeous. Stunning. Probably even more so in person than on tv. Sometimes I think about the experience and still can't even believe it happened.

(As a side note, one of the other interns actually went into the bathroom while Beyonce was in there. Her bodyguard stopped the intern at the door to tell her B was in there. The intern went in anyway. I'm not sure how you could possibly relax enough to let anything out knowing that Beyonce was that close to you. There were only three or four stalls in the bathroom. It was not big at all.)

That may be the one and only time that I can claim I met a legitimate superstar, and it was awesome. I might not have actually said anything to her, but I'm just happy I didn't wet my pants on the spot.




"Acting up, drink in my cup, I could care less what you think. I need no permission, did I mention?"

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

I Am Who I Am


I like to cuddle, but I need my space when I sleep.

I am well-educated and a college graduate. I’m sorry if that makes you feel insecure, but I have every right to be proud of my accomplishments.

Penn State was the best four years of my life to date. My friends went to Penn State. I love Penn State. Deal with it.

I may not be the most affectionate person and a little bit standoffish, but I have an open heart and have extremely sensitive feelings. Please don’t take advantage of this.

I will judge you by your grammar. It doesn’t matter if it’s how you talk or how you write. There is a difference between “your” and “you’re,” as well as “them” and “those.” Learn the correct usage.

I am naturally a glass half empty kind of person; sometimes I just need a little extra shove to see the positive.

If you don’t ask me to do something because you think I will say no, you can’t hold that against me in the future. You don’t know if you don’t ask.

I am independent and don’t always need to be doted on. Don’t expect me to dote on you either.

I don’t like to stay up late on weekdays. I like to be in bed. Sleeping. I am 25, not 16.

I may not be the most girly girl, but I deserve to be treated with the respect of a lady.

I am punctual. I think it is rude to keep people waiting.

I have high standards and morals. I will hold you to my level. If you can’t meet them, you probably don’t belong in my life.

Sometimes it takes me months to decide if I like a shirt and that only goes on my body. Don't expect immediate access to me physically. You need to prove yourself and earn it.

My clothes aren’t expensive or name brand, but I like them.

I like to wear underwear that covers the goods. I still think they are cute. I don’t get dressed for you.

Sometimes I drink too much. I am working on it.

Sometimes I like chicken fingers or pizza for breakfast. This does not make me strange. I'm not going to judge you for eating eggs for dinner. Food is food.

I like people. I like talking to people. I like talking to people I don’t know. You should be secure enough to know what my feelings are and be able to let me be me.

My friends are not always the best, but they are pretty great. Nobody is perfect. Who is picking me up long after you pushed me down? Them. Not you.

My family is far from perfect. They drive me up the wall. But they will be there for me long after you have abandoned me.

I am tired of treating people how I want to be treated. This has gotten me nowhere. I will treat you how you treat me. Don’t like my tone? Change yours.

I am who I always have been. Accept it, reject it, just don’t expect me to change if I don’t want to.