Sex, Drugs & Birth Control

It's time for us to have the talk... I've been meaning to do it for a while, but keep putting it off as I don't want to embarass you... or me come to think of it.

Talking about sex doesn't have to be uncomfortable, so let's chat.

I've just gotten back from the Sexual Health Clinic. The place where everyone sits with their heads down and eyes to the floor. Practically performing a miming act for the receptionist in the hope no one recognises them whilst fearing that Septa Unella is going to turn up with her bell of shame and order them to march down the corridor in front of everyone as they make their way to the nurse's office.

The reason I was there today was because I needed to get my old contraceptive implant removed, and a new one fitted. My trusty hormonal steed had reached his expiry date and was to be evicted from the comfort of my flabby arm ASAP. I waited patiently in the waiting room with my friend who was also coincidentally seeking advice about her contraception. Whilst, we were waiting there was a couple behind me and the woman was doing that whisper that is so loud she might as well have just spoken freely and saved herself the effort. Her exact words being "Why is the NHS so shit", "That woman has been in already and she has just gone back in", "So, they've seen 4 people in 1 hour". Now, I've always been passionate about the NHS, granted, recent events have probably fired up my passion further, but something about her comments really irritated me. This wasn't just a passing comment, she spoke about this at length. The NHS had suddenly become the younger sibling I never had, how dare she speak badly about it!? I had to defend it.

So, in my most passive aggressive manner, I started to discuss with my friend how great the NHS was... "Hmmm, I wonder how much it would cost in America for me to get the implant, boy am I glad I've got the NHS so I can get it for free". (By the way, we googled this in the waiting area... turns out up to $1300 to get the implant inserted and up to $300 to get it removed. Yes, you can get health insurance, but even that can still be expensive - check Consumer Reports for ideas on cost). The funny thing is, when this woman so high on her pedestal was eventually called by the nurse, she spent the same length of time in the clinic with them, if not longer, as the people before her. Oh, the hypocrisy.

I was eventually called by a lovely nurse called Steve. He was friendly, put me at ease by basically taking the piss out of the fact I worked in HR, and expressed how disappointed he was by the first Queen album (we'll put our differences aside Steve). Now, I choose to have the implant as it suits my lifestyle - I forget to take the pill, the injection caused me to have a period every other week and so the implant was the third contraception I tried and settled on. It's probably important to point out at this stage that not one contraception will suit everyone's bodies and people will react differently. Here's a list of a few different types of contraception you can try (this list isn't exhaustive) and the benefits of each taken from the NHS website. More information can be found here.

Contraceptive Implant

Pros

• More than 99% effective
• Once fitted, it doesn't need replacing for 3 years
• Good for women who can't use contraception that contains oestrogen

Cons

• Can leave some bruising and tenderness on your arm when initially inserted
• Can sometimes stop your periods altogether
• Doesn't protect against STIs

"Here's one I made earlier..." The one I had removed today, around 4cm long.

Contraceptive Injection

Pros

• If used correctly, it's more than 99% effective
• Lasts 8-13 weeks, so you don't have to think about contraception every time you have sex
• Good for women who can't use contraception that contains oestrogen

Cons

• It involves getting an injection in your arse... may be a con to some
• Can take up to 1 year for fertility to return to normal after the injection wears off
• Doesn't protect against STIs

Combined Pill

Pros

• When taken correctly, it's more than 99% effective
• Can make periods lighter and less painful
• Can reduce symptoms of PMS
• It can help reduce acne

Cons

• You have to remember to take it at the same time everyday
• It can increase your blood pressure
• May be some temporary side effects at first i.e. headaches, breast tenderness
• Doesn't protect against STIs

Intrauterine device (IUD AKA the coil)

Pros

• Can be more than 99% effective
• There are no hormonal side effects
• It protects against pregnancy for 5-10 years depending on the type

Cons

• It can feel uncomfortable when fitting the coil (the coil is inserted through the cervix and into the womb)
• Periods may become heavier, longer or more painful, though this may improve over a few months
• Doesn't protect against STIs

Male Condoms

Pros

• 98% effective when used correctly
• Help prevent STIs
• No medical side effects 
• Easy to get hold of 

Cons

• Some couples find using condoms can interrupt sex
• They sometimes may split or tear if not used properly
• Some people may have allergies to latex or spermicides

I get that most people will already have their preference of contraception, but not everyone knows about the options available to them and what each one entails. There's a a contraception tool on the Brook website to help advise what the best type of contraception may be for you. I hope this helps inform everyone what is available and remember, it is both sexual partners responsibility to ensure they have safer sex. I'm not gonna lie, I felt like a bit of badass walking out of the clinic with this bandage on my arm... I even asked for a sling to gain more sympathy from my boyfriend, but got told that was overkill. I got a commiserating look from Paul when I got home and he offered me a custard cream -  I guess that will have to do.

Lucy x

Loneliness vs Solitude

“Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone and solitude expresses the glory of being alone.” - Paul Tillich

For most of my life, I’ve always been the type of person who needs time on their own to recharge my batteries. There’s nothing I prefer more than to spend time reading a good book, going for a walk, having a prolonged bubble bath to the point my fingers look like prunes or trying my hand at creative writing. Yes, I’m a secret introvert which has it’s good and bad qualities. I take time to reflect on things and make time for myself. But it also means I spend a lot of time thinking, maybe over-observing. It means I can get feelings of anxiety when having to socialise and takes me longer than others to “warm” to people. And at the end of a hard day, I just need my quiet time, alone.

I know I enjoy solitude when I’m in a relatively good headspace. Solitude is being ok with being alone. For me, it’s that feeling of hygge when you spend a little bit of extra time lighting some crackle-wick candles (ASMR all day), making a space feel cosy, playing some relaxing music with a log fire burning. Being in solitude makes me feel confident in myself, knowing I can be happy and content on my own.

On the other hand, I’ve had my share of experiences of loneliness. If I’m honest with myself, I know I’ve felt like this fairly recently. And I don’t feel like I’ve got a lot to complain about, I’ve got my boyfriend, my friends and family. I know that it is currently just my state of mind – it can make me feel drained, anxious and my whole thought process becomes negative. I become self-conscious and feel helpless. Being the self-analyser that I am, there will be a number of factors of why I’ve felt like this. One of them is I’ve started a new job and being the new person is never fun. Don’t get me wrong the team I work with are great, but for someone like me who can unfortunately doubt myself at times, it means I find change quite difficult.

When people think of loneliness, some instantly picture an elderly person living on their own, but that’s not necessarily the case. You could be a young person around large groups of people every day at your job which in some cases can make you feel even more alone. I think a cause of loneliness is the feeling of a lack of connection. As social creatures, we always strive to connect with someone and want to feel understood. We are always looking for that “spark” or that person you feel like you’ve known for years when it may have only been a matter of weeks. Some people are lucky to experience that – whilst others aren’t. The rise in popularity of social media can exacerbate feelings of loneliness as you scroll through what is essentially the highlight reel of someone’s life.

There are so many people who have experienced loneliness at some point, but nobody ever talks about it, so ironically we all end up experiencing loneliness alone – go figure. Considering research has shown that prolonged loneliness can increase your risk of death, I find it strange that people are reluctant to talk about the lonely elephant in the room.   In my case, I’m lucky that I have people to talk to and a good support network to confide in and I’ve learnt to speak out when I start to feel like this. Whether it’s a Whatsapp message, a chat over a cup of coffee or a phone call, I know I can rely on my friends to listen and they can rely on me.

If you’re someone who doesn’t feel like they have anyone to talk to there are so many places you can turn to and people who will listen. I always mention this charity but Samaritans are great if you just need to speak to someone without judgement. I’ve used them before and just having someone listen to me made such a difference. There is also Elefriends, run by the charity Mind which is a supportive online community if you need a safe space to speak to someone.

So, whether you're an extrovert, introvert or somewhere in between, remember it’s normal to feel lonely sometimes and don’t blame yourself for feeling that way. With acceptance, comes peace so if you acknowledge that you do feel lonely you may feel more open to talk to someone and you’ll realise that the feeling is temporary and solitude feels so much better.

Lucy x

ICU & The Relative's Room #3

Before reading: I spoke to my Dad about whether I could write about this experience and he was fine with it and got the chance to read it before posting here. I've also just included information about the experience for me and some parts about my Dad, but some information may be missed out to maintain privacy for other family members and friends.  

The next few days were probably the worst for me. I was fixated with the numbers on the screens next to my Dad's bed. A rush of adrenaline would come over me in waves with every tormenting beep of the monitors. I tried to chat to family and staff as normal, but my attention was quickly brought back to the flashing numbers on the screen.

I'd look around, the nurses would appear calm and unfazed, the consultants would continue their conversations with their teams. I'm sure they must be used to the panic-stricken look on the relatives' faces every time there was a slight change in the patient's condition. In all honesty I didn't know what all the numbers meant, and Google was not my comforting friend when I tried to find out.

My Dad went for another x-ray which showed that his lung was a complete "white-out", which they figured was the reason for his decline. A decision was made to insert a drain into the lung, within which 5 litres of fluid came gushing out. Some of the nurses said they had never seen so much come out of one lung - the relief of pressure must have been immense.

At this point, he was still in an induced coma, however it's not good to keep someone induced long-term and so they decided to try and bring him round and see how he coped being awake with the breathing tube in. I remember we all sat round anxiously whilst we waited for him to come around. Cue our slight overreaction when he started moving his hand and lifting his arm off the bed, to which the nurses responded "He is allowed to move his arms" - fair point.

What I've learnt from the ICU is that there will always be setbacks and you need to be prepared for them. My Dad had to be induced again, because he wasn't coping with just having a breathing mask on. We then had to give permission for them to perform a tracheostomy on my Dad. For those that don't know, a tracheostomy is quite a common procedure (particularly in the ICU) where an incision is made to the windpipe so a tube can be inserted to help someone breathe. This can also be attached to a ventilator if additional oxygen is required.

It was nerve-wracking waiting to see my Dad after having the trach put in and the thought was always in the back of my mind that he could potentially need a trach for life. However, it was the best decision we made as he could finally be taken off the sedation and start to work on his recovery. They could also let my Dad speak by controlling airflow to flow over the vocal chords. I remember the first time they used this and he kind of just nodded and went "Alright", like it wasn't a big deal and that we hadn't just been watching him lying motionless in bed for the last two weeks.

From there, physiotherapists came to see him to help build up his muscle as he had a lost an extreme amount of weight. Eventually, he was discharged from the ICU and taken to a respiratory ward. Once the trach could be removed he was then moved to a general ward. I remember one of the days we came to see him he just suddenly hobbled out of bed to go to the toilet. I remember we all looked at eachother like "WHAT?!", but hey, I guess my Dad is allowed to walk too.

In mid-December my Dad was discharged from hospital and thankfully, we got to spend Christmas together at home. The one good thing that came from this whole ordeal is that my Dad has finally  quit smoking (I've only been badgering him for the last 20 years to quit). I feel like it's definitely brought us closer together as a family and we have opened up more.

For my Dad, the worst part was the hallucinations he had. It turns out he was hallucinating the whole time he was in the ICU. He thought all of the doctors and nurses were there to kill him and I can only imagine how scary that must have been when you're not lucid. Like being in a nightmare where you can't escape. To this day, I think the hallucinations have impacted him, but a recent visit to the ICU for a follow-up helped him confirm that what he thought he saw wasn't real. Out of everything we saw him have to go through, I never thought that, that would be the worst part of his experience.

Me and my Dad, approx. 2 months since he was discharged. 

Now the focus is on my Dad getting stronger and I'm trying not to be too overprotective or worry so much, but it's always in the back of my mind. I cannot thank the NHS staff enough for saving my Dad in such a critical situation, from the care they gave to him, to the support they gave to our family. Once my Dad had been moved to another ward from the ICU, it was frustrating that there wasn't that same one-to-one care and there would be times my Dad would have to wait a long time for certain things but unfortunately that's where the NHS is under resourced and it scares me to think what would have happened without it. If we had to pay for the treatment my Dad received, I imagine it would have been in the £10,000s at least. Please don't take the NHS for granted and don't take your parents for granted either - I know I won't.

Lucy x

ICU & The Relative's Room #2

Before reading: I spoke to my Dad about whether I could write about this experience and he was fine with it and got the chance to read it before posting here. I've also just included information about the experience for me and some parts about my Dad, but some information may be missed out to maintain privacy for other family members and friends.  

We arrived at the hospital and went to go and find the ICU - thank god for the colour-coded corridors. Once we got there we had to press a buzzer to be let in and a nurse greeted us at the door. My stomach churned at what I was going to see. The nurse explained to Paul and I that we may be in for a shock (considering we had only seen and spoken to my Dad less than 12 hours before) and that his breathing had gotten worse over night to the point he was becoming disoriented, and this is in turn was making his heart work overtime which was exhausting for his body. 

You know in films where they use a zoom effect to make a corridor appear longer? That's what it felt like walking towards my Dad's cubicle, everything slowed down. When we got around the curtain, it was kind of what I was expecting, there were lots of tubes, lots of beeping, the regular rhythm of the ventilator - it was a sensory overload. My Dad was in an induced coma and the fixer in me was screaming internally. I remember desperately wanting to ask the nurses what I could do to help, "Oh, is it time for more injections? Here, let me", "Does he need a new lung? Oh, that's lucky - I've got two!" That was one of the biggest challenges for me, not being able to help. 

Every so often my Dad had to be moved into a different position to prevent him from getting bedsores, so when they had to do that we were ushered out into the relative's room which required a code to get in and consisted of sofas, a toilet, a TV and a hot drinks machine. It was always exciting using the hot drinks machine as you never knew what you were going to get... You press the button for hot chocolate? You got a coffee. You pressed the button for coffee? You got what looked like sewage water, and it changed most days. In the end, we brought in our own teabags and coffee and kept it in the room - I needed something strong and stable (that didn't involve Theresa May) each day, even if that just meant a guaranteed decent cup of tea. 

Our lives for the next 2-3 weeks completely changed and the days consisted of visiting my Dad twice a day and trying to force food down me. If I could do that then the day was a success. There would be days we would laugh and chat whilst sat with my Dad, there were days where we didn't feel as strong and sat quietly. I remember about 1 week into my Dad being in ICU, I  decided to go and visit on my own. I hadn't been sleeping any of the previous nights and wanted some time alone. The nurse looking after my Dad spoke to me and asked how I was doing and I just cried. I cried hard and it even makes me teary-eyed thinking about it now. The nurse said something to me that I still think about now. She said, it's important that you're emotional in front of your family, you don't have to try and hold it together (not that I was successful at this) all the time. They need to know it's OK to cry too. 

I don't know why, but it really hit home for me. Even in a completely different context, say you're having a shit day and someone asks how you are. A lot of the time we do just say we are fine, because it's easier and we don't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. But, maybe we do need to start being more honest about our emotions and what's on our minds. I'm always ready to listen to anyone who needs to talk and people have done this for me in the past who I am so grateful to. The saying a problem shared is a problem halved couldn't be more fitting and by doing this it may encourage more people to ask for help.

My Dad and I, a few years ago.

Back from the tangent and to my Dad. He started to get a little better in terms of the amount of oxygen he was taking in on his own and how much support he needed from the ventilator. Overnight, however, he took a turn for the worse. One thing I learnt is that there is nothing more unsettling or stomach clenching then a Doctor closing the curtains of the cubicle and taking a seat in front of you with a sympathetic look on their face. All the progress my Dad was making, to then be told that it wasn't good news and essentially they didn't know whether they would be able to wean him off the ventilator. A world without my Dad was inconceivable and I wasn't strong enough to deal with it.