This is your vagina; this is your vagina on drugs.

Vagina news! You thought this was a sexy blog, didn't you? NOPE! Let's talk about my genitals some more instead!

Had the appointment with the vaguely specialized OBGYN on Monday, and super awesome for me, it's probably not Lichen Planus! Or Lichen Sclerosis! Or any of those other diseases who's side affects are frightening noun-verbs like "scarring" and "closure."

So, before anything else:

SUPER HURRAY SUPER (PROBABLY) SUPER!

There's still a probably in there, because (as like all the other times I've been to the lady doctor), they don't know what exactly is wrong. So, it could still be those things, but mostly, it's probably not. Yippee!

I got to the office slightly late, and very damp (like, dripping on my sign-in forms damp), due to a little mix-up of me forgetting where the fuck my appointment was and going to other of their offices first, being told at their other offices that I needed to go to the other other offices, and then sprinting to a car2go to get to the other other offices (it's situations like these that really reinforce my always-fifteen-minutes-early policy). The nurse was nice, if brief, and the doctor was great. I forget her name, but she looked like someone straight out of my childhood - long dark hair, Berkeley hippie-mom clogs, dorky spectacle glasses, etc. It's absolutely superficial, but I was more at ease for her style choices.

So, we talked. It's always fun to watch a doctor's face when I start to talk unabashedly (happily, even), about my genitalia. Yes, I will use the right words for my anatomy, and no, I will not blush when I say them. It's my damn anatomy. My favorite exchange (after we'd been talking about symptoms and possible diagnosis for a while):

MD: And, with some women, they consider a vestibulectomy, which can help, but also sometimes causes more problems than it solves.

ME: Yeah, and, you know, I like my vestibule. I'd like to keep it around.

MD: Exactly!

ME/MD: (genuine laughter).

So, talking was great, and then she poked around and speculumed and squeezed my ovaries from the inside (which is always so strange and a little bit cool). She took a swab and they did a wet prep, which I'd actually never had done before (it's when they look at your discharge/fluid right there in the office, under a microscope, as opposed to sending it away for tests). I didn't have yeast, and everything looked normal. I wasn't having symptoms that day, but based on my description, she thinks it's some kind of skin issue (and not necessarily discharge related). Which makes sense to me.

They prescribed me a steroid cream, which I have to use in very careful, very small doses, for short periods of time, otherwise it's going to aggravate the problem (too much usage too frequently can thin the skin, causing cracks, etc. I'm not sure exactly how it works in the first place, but I'm going to do some V Book reading later). If symptoms come up again, and I can get in to see them quickly, they might do a biopsy. Which is... a super unpleasant procedure that includes nouns and verbs like "injection," "needle," and "punch-tool." So, I'm maybe not going to talk about/psych myself up for that until I have to.

Fast forward a few days, and right on time (just before my period), some symptoms came along. So, deep breath, unscrew the cap, and onto my vulva the steroids went. So far, I can't really tell if they're helping or hurting (it's better now, a few days later, but I'm not sure if that's cream-related or not). But that's sort of beside the point. In case you missed it, I'll say it again:

I got prescribed steroids. To put on my VAGINA.

So, on this holiday weekend of Thanksgiving, here's to you, legally doped up vulvovaginal area. May you be better, faster stronger:

drawn on a cocktail napkin by yours truly (it's not supposed to be frowning - that's my clitoris. or roid rage. who knows).

Like The First Time

Announcement! For heretoforth until the end of the blog, my partner, Sir, shall be known and reffered to as...

Jamie!

It fits in lots of ways, and has lots of good connotations. Also, it was the only one that I thought of, and I really want a name to use, so I'm using this one. It might change if I come up with something better in the future.

So, Jamie and I have been talking about/starting to dip our toes in the water of this whole nonmonogamy business. We made OKCupid profiles together, which was super fun, if a little daunting. "Hey world, here I am, my very own presentation of myself by which you can judge!" The questions are super hilarious, although I got hung up on the herpes one, which was... a good precursor to talking about herpes with potential partners, I think. The question was something like "How would you feel about dating someone with herpes?" And they give you a yes/no/maybe kind of option, and then a place to explain further. I went back and forth between all the answers, and tried to type out why about five times before I just gave up and logged out. How to say "Yes, but I have HSV-1, so having sexual contact with someone with HSV-2 is a bigger risk for me," or "Hell yes, herpes is nothing to be ashamed of! Not that I think it's great or anything, but really I'm a cool person and stuff still," or "Yeah, I've got herpes, here's what kind, and a millllion facts about it," or "Yeah, I've got herpes. Deal with it." How to seem informed, accepting of myself, but not overbearing or overly neurotic.

All of which I am...? Working on, at least?

It comes back to the whole presentation-of-a-person thing, on the internet. Because perusing other people's profiles, you start realizing that yes, these people seem really cool, but also that these are the things they picked to share on the world of interenet dating. Not that that makes me necesarily uncool... it's just a head trip.

And it's exhausting. Plus, there's the occaisional "hey sexy how you doin'" message, which makes me want to hit things.

So, for the most part, I've stuck the world of real-world dating. Errrr, real world flirtateous friendships, as it were. Jamie and I met this guy at a party the other week, he was cute, he flirted with me, etc. etc. And so, in the spirit of recent developements, I e-mailed him, and we went out for drinks. Because fuck it, the worst that could happen is that the drinks were boring and bad, and I (basically) never see him again.

But as it happens, it was great! Although he's not so much available for dating (he's married, and at the moment, basically monogamous in that marriage), which is sort of... strange, because he wants to be? I'm not going to go into much detail, because I haven't actually asked him about that yet, but at this point, I'm putting it in the friend bucket. Which isn't such a bad bucket, I don't think, for my first real foray into this dating-other-people-thing.

The most surprising, out of all of it, is how fucking giddy I am about my current relationship. Like, I just want to hear about the cute people and get excited about the making out and come home to him and giggle like fucking teenagers on the couch. I think the only reason I haven't jumped him multiple times a day in the last week is that my vagina has decided, once again, to be unhappy. The rest of me? Nonmonogamously thrilled. My sex organs? Angry and red and not in the fun-torture kind of way.

But it's really wonderful, actually, to be this happy about things. Sure, there are points of misgiving I still have, and the boundaries at the moment are super small (baby steps, as they say). And when those happen, I talk to him, and we check in, and it's okay. But for the most part, I'm just... over the moon about loving my dudeman. I want to dote on him, go on dates with him, I think about him all the time. And I mean, I always think about him all the time, but this is like... it's like the beginning, in a way.

And so, in honor of that (and his new namesake), I've got a tape I want to play for you:

Upload MP3 and download MP3 using free MP3 hosting from Tindeck.

(the audio is crap, but the partner in question who has all the audio knowledge isn't home, so... this is it. and because really, what other song would do?)

I have the coolest fucking boyfriend ever.

Lichen Planus, and other things that (unfortunately) don't mean I'm a Werewolf

mmmmm, vagina peas

Healthy insurance kicked in again about a month ago, and so back I went to the doctor, with the all-too-familiar-and-frequent symptoms of general vulvovaginal discomfort. I've mentioned it a couple times in past posts, but just to be clear: this has always been an issue for me, and something that despite various precautions (probiotics, neutral PH and free-of-everything soaps and lotions and laundry detergents, white or no underwear, restricted diet, etc.), I’ve struggled with for many, many years. More so some years than others, and sometimes it's BV, sometimes it's yeast, but pretty much without fail, my vagina gets unhappy. Sometimes (like this last time) it’s to the point where I'm itching and scratching in my sleep, sometimes when I'm awake, and sometimes it's so bad that I have to sneak offstage and cry, etc. This tech, I actually ended up jerry rigging a lady-parts ice pack (frozen peas and a double ziplock with gaff tape around my underwear, in case you were wondering), because I literally couldn't focus enough to do the show.

(trying to figure out if your production manager/stage manager/actors/director can tell if you're waddling/have frozen labia is... not the best for focusing either. But think in the end, it was better to have pea-ed and waddled, than to have never pea-ed at all).

At the doctor, they poked around like they usually do. And were mystified as to how I had this again, like they usually are. I don't generally have crazy discharge (which is common with yeast), and most doctors are surprised when they do a culture, and it comes back positive.

But this time, things went a little differently. This time, my doctor posited that maybe, possibly, there might be an underlying cause to all this. That maybe, sure, my tests for yeast came back positive, but maybe it wasn't the yeast causing these symptoms (candida can and does live in the vagina, the butt, the mouth, etc., without causing any adverse side affects. It's the growing out of control that causes problems).

She suggested, looking carefully at the skin, that it might be something called Lichen Planus. It’s a strange experience, to be spread eagled on a doctors table, nitril gloved fingers pressing gently on your vulva, and hear a word who’s first connotation (for me, anyway) is silver bullets and wolf’s bane. As it turns out, I think I might prefer a beasty moon-related transformation to what Lichen Planus actually is.

She hands me a piece of paper as I'm leaving, telling me it’s not necessarily LP and I need to see a specialist, but she suspects. And then I read it and then I go home and then I google and google and google. There should be some sort of mandatory blackout time on google image searches post doctor visits. Caution: side affects of reading this handout may result in compulsive staring at images of sick vaginas, and premature coming to terms with what may prove to be a very grim fate indeed.

Lichen Planus is not a fun thing, and it's not a curable thing. I'm pretty nervous about it, but doing my best to put those nerves in a little box, because we really, really don't know anything yet. I haven't been tested, and I haven't been to a specialist. It could be any number of things that are a) not yeast, and b) also not Lichen Planus. But there’s a little part of me that is… well, pretty scared right now.

On one level, it's nice to know that there might be an underlying cause to all this, one that I can get accurate (and hopefully more affective) treatments for. Although it’s all couched in knowing that the side affects are much, much worse than if it were simply recurring (or not-ever-really-cured) yeast.

Here’s the part of the blog where I would list all the side-affects of LP, how bad they could get, and what I'm worried about with each one. But I’m not sure about anything yet, and in an effort not to hype myself up, I’m going to let you google it yourself, if you really want to.

Caution: may cause moments of loss and premature, serious bummer.