The Pill.

Hello bloggees!  Whoof.  I’m feeling uber bolstered by online-love and so excited to continue, especially now that I know there’s a demand for this kind of discussion.  Onward and upward folks!

Today on the agenda: Pill talk.  Trust me, it flows nicely out of the treat-the-cause-not-the-symptom angle in my last entry… not to mention a pretty concrete starting point in terms of my own personal health issues.  I started taking the Pill (Alesse, and later Minovral for any of you interested) and was on it for the duration of my near-five year relationship, plus a few months afterwards.   So what are the symptoms of taking the birth control pill?  I am both sheepish, and baffled at the fact that during those years I never took the time to research what the pill actually does to prevent contraception.  I’ve since taken that time. 

*sidenote* (think of this as a choose-your own-adventure novel.  If you already know the science and inner workings of The Pill, please ignore my little lesson and skip to the bottom of the paragraph.) In a nutshell, there are two types of oral contraceptives a woman can take.  The first- and most commonly used- contains both hormones required to create an egg: progestin and estrogen.  The second type contains only progestin.  Both these pills, however, work to the same affect through a number of ways: such as the increase of cervical mucous, creating change in the uterus lining and finally- by suppressing ovulation.  So think about that for a second.  There is No creation of an egg.  All those cramps you gals still have?  That period that comes like clockwork on day 21 of your pill pack?  Not menstruation.  Menstruation only comes when an egg goes unfertilized in the female body.  So what happens is called withdrawal bleeding- something that happens when you finish your pack o’ pills and either a) go on the 7 day break or b) take the white/other colored placebo pills at the end of the month.  Your body is no longer getting it’s daily dose of hormones… and you bleed from withdrawal. 

Obviously there are exceptions- because women do continue to get pregnant while taking oral contraceptives- and there are effectiveness percentage rates to reflect this… they seem to lie anywhere between the 92-98% range.  Yup.  Many shades of grey even when it comes to science. 

Ok- so why am I telling you all this? Because the symptom of my being on birth control for 5+ years, is that my body seemingly forgot how to ovulate on it’s own.  And it didn’t stop there- I also learned that the Pill was responsible for my lipids shooting sky high during that time, which sent me to specialists that recommended Lipitor for high cholesterol.  And you wonder why I have the tendency to sway (or rather leap) towards being somewhat of a hypochondriac?  26 years old, healthy, a petite runner-type…and I was being handed pamphlets for (god love ‘em) happy looking blue-hairs noshing on bowls of steamed broccoli and oatmeal.  And believe me, try to take away Sunday morning eggs and sausage with my buddy and you’ll get stabbed with a fork.  But…. all the talk sank in.  I thought it was something I was doing wrong, and reasoned that high cholesterol did run in my family.  Enter new gameplan: I quit stocking the fridge with four kinds of cheese (opting instead to hit the brie HARD at opening nights), started taking my coffee black, ate whole grains every morning, and began taking flax and fish oil.   Still each year my cholesterol continued to go up- until I went off the pill.  And only then was I told birth control could be a contributing factor in heightened lipids.

I digress.  I think it’s important to recognize that oral contraceptives are still a relatively new drug, and only time will sort out all the possible side effects.  But what frustrates me is that until I took away these symptoms by chance through discontinued use… doctors were insistent on prescribing me more medication to treat (again- and for the last time I swear) the symptom instead of the cause.  No one seemed interested in getting to the root of the problem; all they were concerned with were my numbers checking out.

I hesitate to shit all over the Pill (yeah I said it.)  For oh-so many reasons.  It has been credited with launching the women’s movement.  It helps regulate menstrual cycles (obviously in certain cases), reduce cramps and the risk of ovarian cysts, improve acne and help with iron deficiency…  just to name a few.  If you take into consideration the moral implications that come with taking the Pill- it has lent (*rim shot*) itself to the slow reform of the Roman Catholic Church… but the going. is. slow.  Because oral contraceptives inhibit the sperm’s ability to fertilize an egg, it is still widely condemned as being an immoral and sinful act.  The rationale being that couples have sex solely to procreate- anything else is a sin.  Sigh. 

But maybe the largest selling point- is that women are finally able to make a specific choice in regards to their bodies.  The Pill gave us sexual liberation and agency over our decisions.  Now for myself, I know I won’t begin unnecessarily putting hormones into my body again.  It’s just not a choice that I’m willing to make.  That’s not to say I consider it an evil act, or wouldn’t recommend it under certain circumstances… but I’m a grown woman that has made her decisions and am now beginning to feel an odd but certain degree of power in letting things unfold, naturally. 

Always keeping in mind that self-love and acceptance can be a choice, too.

Josephine

P.S Please, please if you have some time to spare for some damn-fine and interesting radio, check out this link to CBC radio’s Rewind.  It revisits the creation of the pill in the 60’s with interviews of Planned Parenthood in Los Angeles, the fire-crackin’ women’s lib Dorothea Palmer, and a public forum of the Catholic Church’s stance in 1968.  Here’s the link:  CBC's Rewind "The Birth of the Pill"

Where does it start?

Heya…. A huge thanks to those of you who have taken the time to reach out and comment on my first post.  The first step can be tough, but boy- I’ve got some friends that are as sharp as your grandmother’s burgundy button-up cardigan; and feel grateful for the insightful feedback.  Please keep sharing!  

So where does it all start, anyway? 

The big “it”.  Self-consciousness, aggression- feelings of inadequacy and self-deprecation.  It’s a pretty big notion to wrap one’s head around- you can take it as far back as early family influences, to Freud, to the boy who pushed you in the sandbox and laughed at your overbite.  When did we begin buying into the notion that an outside force can determine our worth and tell us not only what is expected, but also “normal”?  And please, if you feel that you’re exempt from thoughts like these from time to time- I’d love a slice of that perspective.  Because I think most would agree we live in a place that consistently tells who we are via billboards, magazines and online memes.  We’re told how to feel and how not to feel, and all in the span of a 30 second advert.  So where does it happen that these cultural influences change from an outside opinion, to elements of our own personal manifestos?  And what happens when we cultivate these thoughts long enough, that they eke their ways into our physical bodies?  It’s when we lose track of knowing these aren’t standards we’ve created ourselves, but instead adapted opinions we’re convinced are our own… that something needs to change.

(Before getting too heady about the whole thang- go to funnyordie for a laugh about it here)

I can tell you where it started for me, and as with most deep-seeded tales: it’s a seemingly insignificant beginning.  If I’m to really look at the big picture I can trace back the fascination (read: obsession) with my body to very early days as a young girl.  I have a snapshot in time burned into my memory… when a friend looked at me standing in cutoff jean shorts and said that my calves were big.  We were both young, and both tomboys.  More likely to be found climbing trees and making forts rather than trying on makeup (hence the muscle-y looking calves I’m sure).  But that moment cut to the core- though she never would have known it- because it was the very first moment I came out of my body and looked at it with an outside, and critical eye. 

I want to point out that my dear schoolmate was in no way being a “mean girl” (label) or a “bully” (another label), but reacting with that perfect child-like innocence that sees, ingests and reacts.  There was zero judgment in her assessment, and because I was young and seemingly carefree, I don’t remember my feelings being hurt at the time.  But the idea was planted.  And though it was the schoolyard that began this pattern of thinking… it’s the world I inhabit that keeps it alive.   We all become Symptoms of this world, the community, the cities and societies we live in. 

The media is quick to draw attention to everything that is wrong with said society- but less likely to claim responsibility for the role they play in perpetuating it.  This leads me to the big soap-box-standin’-rail of this entry…treating the Symptom instead of the cause.   We’ve become preoccupied with fixing things quickly, rather than examining their source- and this goes for both our physical and our emotional well-beings.  But we need to get down to the root of the problem, deal with the hard stuff and begin the journey to heal.  Pull up the roots, move forward and start fresh.

I live in a world and lead a lifestyle that seems dependant on people telling me how and when I will achieve happiness and success.  My career as an artist is a perfect example of this- it feels completely reliant on other’s willingness to give it to me.  Now instead, I’m learning how to ask for what I want and going out to get it.  I’m not sure yet if it’s that easy… but what if it is?

Josephine

Body.Food.Sex.Amenorrhea (not a dirty word).

BODY. FOOD. SEX!!!

You see what I’ve done there?  Pulled the ol’ Alan Coren, one-two-punch by using these words to get your attention.  Although, these are the topics I’d like to cover here… the all-caps and exclamation points just lend a certain dramatic flair.

*fun fact* For those of you not familiar with Coren- he wrote a wildly funny novel called Golfing for Cats.  His approach was to take a trio of best-selling topics and use them to SELL HIS BOOKS.  And not surprisingly, what turned up were Golf, Cats, and the Third Reich (the cover makes for many a sidelong-glance on public transit: http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41qXxgTJrTL._SL500_AA300_.jpg).  So.  Body.  Food.  Sex.  You are what you think about?  The only thing that could make me potentially more “searchable” would be broads, booze and bicycles…

Now...  Amenorrhea.  A word I would like to talk about, please.  It sounds like a dirty word-or at least a clinical and alienating one- and I’d like to change that.  Why?  Because I have it.  Because No One talks about it.  And because I’m learning that many people want to.  I “have” what the Internet and a handful of doctors call Amenorrhea- a term loosely defined as the absence of a menstrual period in a woman of reproductive age.  And I mean loosely.  Even the concept of “having” is an obscure one  because in short, I don’t have anything at all. What I’m left with instead- is an Absence.  Unlike other diseases that many are left to grapple with, Amenorrhea is a virtually symptom-less condition.  I do not have pain, or a daily reminder of its presence.  Instead there is a lacking, a void… an abstract idea that leads to a lot more, well, abstract ideas.  So in many ways it feels like more of a psychological burden than a physical one.  I’m going on 2 years now without bleeding.  I was feeling like my life had literally and figuratively halted- my work, career, sexuality, love life and especially my health.  And it had not slowed or ebbed, but came to a screeching, terrifying halt. 

So what do I want to achieve with this blog?  Those who know me well will probably chuckle at the notion of my starting a health forum.  Not because it’s a wild stretch of the imagination- haha.  Actually quite the opposite.  I can’t tell you how many dear ones have been asked to feel my pulse, my forehead- check out a weird spot I found on my back.  But something I do have now, is a really clear and concise timeline of how I got to where I am today.  It ties in my body, food, and sex.  And by sharing these concepts, tests and diagnosis, my hopes are that it will spark something in someone out there, too.  Selfishly- the goal is to seek advice and get to the bottom of this.  More importantly- to form a community of people online who are willing to share their experiences and stories; to encourage a dialogue that gets to the heart of the matter.  Since beginning to talk of this openly- I have been blown away by THE STAGGERING NUMBER OF MEN AND WOMEN THAT HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY.  All caps.  Not only have people approached me with their experiences, but also to enquire and solicit my opinion on those experiences.  I've been asked when this ‘online group’ is starting.  And believe me I have done the google searches…at the very best what it yielded was scads of women with this condition- that are trying to conceive.  I- am not.  I just want to be healthy.  I want to feel like a woman again.  And certainly don’t think you need to be dealing with Amenorrhea to feel that way.

For my male readers (as I hope there are many): My intent is NOT for this to be a place reserved solely for “period talk”.  It isn’t going to rail against the male gaze in frustration that you “just don’t understand”.  My experience is that men have a whole lot to say about their bodies, their relationship with food, and how that relates to their psychological well-being.  This seems eye-rollingly obvious I know, but is often times overlooked and in fact- ignored.  I want ALL of these perspectives. 

What fascinates me the most is this:  That the body and the mind are often approached as separate entities in western medicine.  I know for certain mine are intrinsically tied- and over the next while I’ll try to tell you why.  If you agree, I hope that you’ll feel safe to do so, too.

Josephine