May 22, 2009

Living with a B and Vulvodynia

This semester I had to take Introduction to Inorganic and Biochemistry. The class is a prerequisite for the nursing program I hope to begin in the Fall of 2010.

This was the most difficult class I have taken so far. The professor was a kookie old man who probably should have retired a few years back. He did not stop to answer questions and he erased figures on the board as soon as he had finished drawing them. He justified that by saying, "it took me this long to write it and it should take you the same amount of time." Of course, he neglected the fact that he was standing in front of the figure as he was drawing it and therefore unless we had the gift of X-ray vision, there was no way we could see what he was drawing. Going to class only confused and frustrated me.

I got a 73 on my first exam and my heart sunk. The exam was extremely difficult. He included material that we had never discussed in class. I'm an A student and I need strong grades to even be considered for the nursing program at any school. I realized that my future was in the hands of a mad man.

I started studying religiously, teaching myself the materail, taking extensive notes from the book and supplimenting it from what I could grasp from lecture. The harder I worked, the better I did. I got an 89 on the second exam and a 96 and the third.

The final was cumulative (ugh!). I studied every day for a week, writing and rewriting formulas and strutures to cement them in my head.

The day of the final I was surrounded by pages and pages of drawings of polysaccharides, fatty acids, amino acids and other organic compounds. I felt confident going into the exam, but the confidence dwindled as soon as I got to the short answer section. He threw in questions that were so far out of left field. No one knew how to answer them. He left us so ill-prepared. (Did I mention that he didn't believe in reviewing because "every class before the exam is a review."?)

When he stepped out of the room for a minute everyone began saying, "what the fuck is this?" At least I wasn't the only one who felt completely lost. I did the best I could and reluctantly turned in my exam, reminding myself that based on my other grades, I could get a 62 and still get a B.

I didn't want to get a 62. I wanted to get an A. It wouldn't have changed my final grade, but I wanted that A for me. I studied harded for that exam than I ever have for anything. I knew the material so well.

This morning I went to meet with my professor to see my exam grade. After all the stress and worry I got an 86. I honestly thought I was going to get a 65. I'm very proud of my grade. I finished the most difficult class that I've taken with a strong B. I'll take it!

May 15, 2009

Rave Review for the House of Foam

After work on Friday, I rushed over to the House of Foam not knowing what to expect. It was a combination foam shop and car stereo place. They had foam in different strengths and thicknesses. I brought in my modified Brookstone cushion and the nice man traced it onto a specific foam. With a vertical saw, he cut out the pattern to make two different cushions. It was so quick and easy! And the best part... each cushion only cost me $11! ! !

I went with a firmer foam this time that was still very comfortable. I was very impressed with the store and the gentleman working. I would highly recommend checking out House of Foam for your lady part needs. Unfortunately, it's a local store.

I took my new cushion out for a test drive as soon as I got back in my car to drive home. It seemed to work well, but the big test was going to be the next night at the baseball game.

Because I felt self conscious and I also wanted to keep it clean, I carried my cushion in a large plastic bag. I had no problem getting it past security. When we got to our seats, I took the cushions out of the bag and spread the bag over my seat, before positioning the cushion. After a few adjustments, I was ready to go.

I am proud to say I sat for 3 hours with no discomfort! The game wasn't so bad. There were a lot of homeruns. I wasn't really paying attention though. I think I enjoyed the game because I had wonderful company. My finance was in great form. He was loving an affectionate, something that is rather out of character. I could tell that he was so happy to have me on his arm. The couple who brought us to the game were so much fun.

Best part was, my cushion passed with flying colors.

May 8, 2009

Leave Me Out Of The Ball Game...


Sing it with me:

Leave me out of the ball game
Leave me out of the crowd
I need a cushion or I can't sit
Why should I put up with this shit

I am not a baseball fan. When I'm subjected to it on television, I'm bored out of my mind. Tomorrow night I'll be subjected to it in person. My fiance and I, along with another couple are going to a baseball game. I'm going because I really like the other couple and I thought it was more of a "thing to do." I didn't think we'd stay that long. Turns out the guy we're going with is a die hard Yankees fan. Looks like we'll be there all night...

Of course, even if I didn't have an aversion to baseball, this would be a problem. Everyone sits at a baseball game. I can't be that weird chick who's standing up the whole time. People will throw stuff at me. Frankly, I've had enough shit thrown at me lately.

Guess that means I'm sitting...

The coushin I have is Tempur Pedic, which means it gets softer as it warms to your body. That was fine in the winter, when I bought it, but now it's warm. As soon as I put my big butt on that cushion it turns into a pancake! No support at all. It's not going to do me any good tomorrow when it's 80 degrees.

Chances are I'm already going to be a bad sport (bad pun intended) so I have to make a better cushion. That way at least the game won't be physically painful. But trust me, it will still be quite painful!

Today after work, I'm going to the House of Foam to have a new cushion made. I need a more supportive foam that won't be influenced by temperature. I've never been there before. Hopefully this goes well and the price is right. I might have a couple made.

I'll write a review later.

May 2, 2009

When Life Sends You More Things You Can't Fix

Life with vulvodynia and pudendal neuralgia is difficult enough. There's no cure and there's only so much you can do to make yourself comfortable. But at least that's my problem and I have to manage it or not manage it alone.

I do everything in my power to not let it spill into the rest of my life. More often than not, I see no point in letting people in on my pain because there's nothing they can do except feel bad for me. I don't want to make people feel bad for me. Sometimes I really need the support and I'll talk to someone, but generally not my fiance.

I'm currently battling another problem that I can't fix because it's not mine. My partner can be extremely moody. When he gets in a state, he completely shuts down and just won't speak or he's curt and nasty. Both options are awful. It's happening more and more and there's nothing I can do to help him. He won't communicate with me about what's wrong and try as I might, I can't get him to snap out of it.

When he gets like that, I feel trapped. He inevitably pulls me down with him. His behavior has me worried and discouraged, but there's nothing I can do.

How do you cope with a moody partner? What is the best way to handle it? Is it ok to leave for a little while so you don't get sucked down into it when he's having one of those days?

I honestly don't know what to do to protect myself from his moods without making things worse. Will my leaving for an hour or two when he's sulking and brooding hurt him? I tried to go out to get myself a sandwich on a particularly bad night and I felt so guilty I just turned around and went back home.

There's no manual on how to deal with this. Technically there are professionals who can advise me on this matter... I'll probably turn to my therapist next. I really need to learn some coping techniques because this is killing me.

April 23, 2009

If I Ever Thought Neurontin Didn't Work...

I was wrong. I've had a very manageable pain level for the last week. I've been very careful at work and at the gym and it's paying off.

Yesterday was Administrative Appreciation Day. My bosses took me and the other admin staff to lunch. It was a long meal. By the time we got back I only had an hour to catch up on work before I had to head out to the salon.

In my haste, I completely forgot to take my mid-day dose of Neurontin. It occurred to me as I was walking to my car, but I didn't think it mattered. Trust me, it did.

My Brazilian bikini wax was so painful this time, I almost had to tell her to stop. Every place she spread the wax hurt and when she pulled the fabric strips off my skin, I thought I was going to go shooting off the table. I tried to use mind over matter and force myself to relax, but nothing could block out that pain. As she rubbed a strip over my right lip and the outer edge of my clit, I thought I was going to scream.

The pain and the anxiety of anticipating more pain made my head hurt. It took so much strength to keep my composure that by the time it was over I felt completely exhausted.

I'm still in pain today. The area feel extremely raw. Waxing is not for everyone, especially women with vulvodynia and pudendal neuralgia, but for me it's normally worth the pain. I know for next time to be sure I've taken my Neurontin well in advanced.

Frankly, it's good to know Neurontin is actually worth taking. I'm on quite a few meds and I'd like to start going off of them sooner rather than later. I know in a few years I'll have to stop all my prescriptions in order to have a safe pregnancy. Neurontin, I'll save for last.

April 17, 2009

A Few Hard Lessons

I work in a rough area of a major city. To get to my job, I have to drive through an even rougher area. Yesterday, I went out and ran an errand during my lunch break. On my way back to the office, I saw a boy bend and pick something up in the gutter. He showed it to his friend. At that point I turned my attention back to the road.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a rock hitting my window. I turned and saw the kids laughing. A little ways down the road I pulled over to call the police. I got out of the car to inspect the damage and see if the kids were approaching. They saw me and ran around the corner. I didn't know my exact location and as I walked to see the closest street sign a rock flew at me. The kids had run around the block and were now throwing rocks directly at me. I got back in the car and waited for the police to arrive as rocks continued to fly.

The kids who through rocks at me walked across the street staring me down to meet up with a friend. I wrote down a description of the boys clothes, pretending not to notice them. One boy in particular seemed to have it out for me. He circled my car like a shark. I pretended not to know who he was. He brazenly walked right by my car, looking in at me. I kept my gaze forward, still pretending to be unaware.

He and his friends disappeared momentarily before two more rocks flew at my car. One hit the center of my windshield with a loud crack. I jumped out of my car and yelled, "Stop it, asshole! I called the police!" I thought this would scare them away. I thought this would make them stop. I continued to wait for the police.

Now I was scared. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. I tried to keep my composure. Then two more rocks hit my car. CRACK! CRACK! One hit my windshield and one hit my roof. I jumped and screamed when I heard the sound. I didn't know where the rocks had come from this time.

I began to completely fall apart. I called the police to tell them that I couldn't wait for them anymore because I feared for my safety. I wasn't thinking clearly. I got out of my car to retrieve one of the rocks for evidence. More rocks flew at me when I stepped into the street.

I ran back in my car, blinded by tears and drove away. There were so many people walking along that street. School had just gotten out and kids were walking home. Families were sitting on their front porches with their young children. No one stopped to help me. No one cared. They just stared at me as rocks bashed into my car and flew at me.

Two blocks away as I sat at a light, I saw the boy who circled my car like a shark. He was sitting on the steps of a church. He saw me and got up, coming at me, making threatening gestures. I was terrified. Before he could make it to my car, the light changed and I floored it.

I drove back to my parking garage shaking and crying. It was then that I realized that they had shattered part of my windshield. I could hear the sound of one of the rocks scraping around the roof of my car as I circled my garage searching for a parking space.

When I parked I took the rock with me to show the police. It was a large piece of concrete. I called my friend at work and told her what had happened. She came to be with me while I waited for the police to arrive.

I tried to get a hold of myself, but I couldn't. The first officer on the scene was curt and unkind. He took my information and told me I should have left the scene immediately. I didn't know I could leave. I had reported an incident to the police and I thought I had to remain in that location until the matter had been settled, like a car accident. I also thought that there would be consequences for the boy who throw the rocks and harassed me, but I was wrong.

Because the rocks never hit me, the incident was being filed as destruction of property. A description of the boy would be included in the report, but that would be the end of it. When I realized how the system worked, I began to feel so angry at myself. I felt like a fool. I waited there for the police for nothing. My car was badly damaged and there would be no consequences for the boy who terrorized me.

As I began to completely lose faith in the justice system in my city, the second cop on the scene asked me if I wanted to ride along while they looked for the boy. I said ok and my friend and I climbed into the back of his cruiser. I was terrified, but excited at the same time. I leaned over to my friend and asked, "Is this the craziest thing you've ever done?" "I think so," she said.

The cop put his lights on and went from 0 to 75 in seconds, tearing up a major road. He turned on his siren to get through intersections. We didn't have seatbelts in the back, so we had to hold on tight.

The novelty wore off and the fear sunk in as we got closer to the crime scene. My whole body started shaking. What if we did find him? What if he did get arrested? What would he do to me then? He knew my car and he knew my face. What kind of retribution would he seek for my tenacity? I ducked down in the car. I didn't want people to see me, but every person we passed on the street stared at us in the back of a speeding police car.

The kid and his friends were gone. The cop brought us back to the garage and dropped us off. I collected my police report and my friend and I went back to our office. The work day was nearly over.

I learned a few hard lessons that day. Never stop your car when someone throws something at you. You can file a police report later in a safe location. I also learned that there's really no punishment for that kind of crime. Those kids got away with destruction of property and attempted assault. They had no fear. It's frightening to think what they could be capable of. I strongly believe that karma will catch up with everyone person who threw rocks at me that day, unless they turn their lives around. They are all racing down a terrible path, one all to common on my city.

Ladies, please taking something away from my ordeal. Don't put your lives in jeopardy for something stupid like a car. Keep yourselves safe.

April 9, 2009

Settling Into A Routine

I've had a fairly good week. I've managed to go to the gym twice with minimal pain. Today I felt like Goldilocks. I started with the running machine. I got through 13 minutes before my nerve started to flare, so I moved to the elliptical, but that hurt immediately, then I tried the treadmill, a long shot I know, and what do you know, that hurt more. I decided that 13 minutes of cardio was "just right."

The estrace cream seems to irritate my clit. I've had to reduce how much and how often I use it. That's ok, I'm not having much sex anyway...

I can get pretty far into the day before the burning starts as long as I'm good about standing in the office. By the time I get home from work, there's always some burning, but most days a short rest lying down is enough to calm the nerve down.

I can't seem to go a full day without some pain. That's distressing, but it's at a manageable level. I'd really like a vacation from my vulvodynia and pudendal neuralgia. We could use some time apart.