So, how is that when a woman gets upset and is complaining about something gets a shut up call by reminding her that she must be having her PMS! Woman are often stereotyped around either their gender or things that are brought by their gender like menstruation, hormonal changes, and pregnancy to name a few. How many times have we heard that an awareness session about breast cancer or PCOS is done on a very bigger scale or some high teach research is done on the medical condition or medicine based on menstruation.
In many other things, there is one medical condition that is least talked about! Endometriosis is taken very lightly by medical professionals and women who suffer from this condition are told to be having menstrual pain as this is just part of being a woman. It is a condition were uterine tissues grow outside the uterus. It is estimated that 10% of women who are in childbearing age have this disease and no do get diagnosed until very old age.
So, this woman wrote about that the University of Sydney is so worried about “how endometriosis affects the sex life of men” but not how it actually affects the human who is having it! Ironic much.
Here’s her story of endometriosis
A blog for all my ladies that men should read too.
I’m so enraged today that I’m fucking off my travel blog, instead I’m going to regale you with the story of my vagina.
The reason for my anger is that this morning I woke up to the news that the University of Sydney is funding a study into how endometriosis effects the sex lives of men who have partners who suffer from endometriosis.
No. Fucking. Way.
If you don’t know what endometriosis is then let me explain.
It’s a bloodbath.
It’s a war that takes place in the lower abdomen of 10% of women. Each month a battle is fought in the pelvic region of one in ten ladies.
It’s a losing battle always, because there is no cure.
The tissue that forms the lining of your womb every month and goes on to become your period juice, is over produced in women with endometriosis. This makes periods a living hell. Eight days of contractions every month to pass blood clots the size of apples.
Of course that’s just the start of it. There’s so much of this period juice (endometrial tissue) made every month that it just doesn’t fit in your womb, instead it emigrates to live on your ovaries, your bowel, your bladder, your tubes.
And this shit is sticky.
It’s like gluing your fingers together with superglue, but more like gluing your ovaries to your bowel with excess hormones.
Of course ovaries are like planets. They don’t just sit around pumping out eggs. They’re on a trajectory across your pelvis throughout your cycle. They rotate. As they rotate they twist your bowel. Your lower colon is now blocked. I don’t just mean you didn’t shit for a few days, I mean that you’ve been six nights in hospital because you can’t so much as fart, you haven’t had a dump in three weeks and you’ve swollen up like Violet fucking Beauregarde.
Adhesions. That’s what they call it when your organs keep getting stuck together. When your tubes stick to your bladder and you live with a perpetual UTI, pissing hellfire through your urethra on a daily basis.
You cry. A lot.
You are on Tramadol everyday. When the pain becomes too bad you’ll end up an in-patient so you can have access to morphine. You know the name of every doctor and nurse on the gyne ward because you’re in there every six weeks. Your stomach is so scarred from the burns of having to use a hot water bottle 24/7 that the only way to disguise them is with skin grafts. You live with a TENs machine strapped to your body, set on the highest setting.
There is no relief.
This was my life for ten years.
So the University of Sydney wants to know how this affected my husband do they? Well I’ll tell you.
He got far more blow jobs and far less fucks than most husbands.
It made him a professional tampon buyer.
He cried for me whenever I was in the hospital. He held my hand as I woke up from the four surgeries I had to separate my organs from each other.
He stroked my hair as I cried myself to sleep at night when I knew that I’d never have children.
You want to know how if affected me?
At 31 years old I had a total hysterectomy. Six organs gone.
Of course that wasn’t before I’d tried every medication available. My favourite hormone was the one that made me lactate milk from my breasts.
“Sorry you can’t have babies Kirsty, that must be really, fucking harrowing for you. Don’t worry. Take these pills and you won’t be in pain anymore. You might shoot milk from you massive, swollen, uncomfortable titties, but that shouldn’t be too much bother for you should it?”
I mean I did find a cure. A way to live without endo. I had two years free from pain due to anorexia.
When you’re underweight your periods stop, and whilst my endometriosis can’t be blamed for my weight loss, it’s certainly responsible for the constant relapses I had into anorexia because the pain could be only controlled by my BMI.
So yeah. I’m angry.
I was angry before because there is almost no funding for the study of endometriosis. I’m even angrier now because this drop of money in an ocean of living hell is going to be spent on boys?
That’s not fucking ok.
Have a wank you cry babies.
If your testicles went through what my ovaries had to go through every month there would be billions spent on finding a cure.
Someone find me a contact at the University of Sydney. I’ve got a message for them….”
Yes, this is not okay! This is not okay to have given the medical attention the subject that least expects it. It’s the 21st century and the world is still worried about how a man is affected by a woman with the certain disease but they are least bothered that how to find the cure for the very disease that is creating the havoc! Let’s talk business now or never.