Archives for posts with tag: medical bias

I’m sipping my coffee and ignoring (as much as I can) the chronic pain of my osteo-arthritis, which radiates upward from my spinal fusion, which was done years ago, when the state of the art was quite different than it is today. I knew then that my surgery was a new approach to the problem, and that some outcomes were unknown. The goal was to prevent me from ending up in a wheelchair partially paralyzed, and to allow me to continue to serve on active duty (Army). I guess for most values of success, my surgeries were a great success. I’m still walking. I did continue to serve (was even deployed to war in the 90s’), after a period of convalescent “retirement”, although I got “RIF’d” after that war (which broke my heart, but is an altogether unrelated story). So, generally, I’ve nothing to regret about that surgery if I’m just thinking about those details. But…

…There were consequences – of both the injury itself, and the surgeries that followed. The arthritis started to develop in my spine about 3 years after my surgeries. I didn’t understand why I was in so much pain all the time, and it took a rather stupid amount of time for that to be appropriately diagnosed; I was young. Medical bias being a real thing, many doctors were persistently just as “mystified” as I was. What could be causing my pain? How could I have arthritis at my young age? I still feel frustration and annoyance by that lack of curiosity, and lack of diagnostic skill (or persistance). Pain they could not feel themselves did not matter to them.

Then, there were the other things… the persistent chronic itch below my left shoulder blade, that I couldn’t quite reach and that scratching didn’t ease. A “phantom itch” that still bothers me occasionally (CBT really helped with that). A chronically cramped muscle down low on my back, on the left side of my body, most likely a result of the disturbed section of musculature attaching to my spine being put back “not quite in the right place” during my surgery (to make room for the hardware that was there for a year) and which healed into a new, less than ideal, location. This, too, still bothers me, often. Most of it I had to “figure out” in pieces, with limited help from too many doctors, and a lot of study. Sexual challenges (both neurological, and also to do with practical matters like lubrication) that were awkward to discuss were another thing; I was past 60 before a physician finally said, with some surprise, “of course that’s related to your spinal injury” after looking at my records, surgical reports, and images, and listening to me with great care. She seemed so matter-of-fact about it, I ended up enraged for days that no one else had said as much. I went through some shit over that issue with more than one lover, I can tell you. Turned out it wasn’t “my fault” or “a lack of desire”, or anything I could actually do much about; I have a spinal injury. Duh. I spent a few days moping around pretty pissed off about it.

What I thought I understood.

Why am I on about this, today? It’s to do with perspective and knowledge, and how those create our understanding (or don’t). I knew coming out of my surgery all those years ago that I had a permanent “30% stenosis”, and I felt that I understood what that meant. I mean, words having meaning, and I knew the meanings of the words…so… I understand? Don’t I? I thought I “got it”. My lack of real understanding was stunning, and it would be decades before that changed. It wasn’t actually a doctor that changed my understanding. It was math – and a moment at the dining room table with my Traveling Partner; a “lightbulb moment” to do with circles, that was completely unrelated to my spine, my injury, or my pain. lol (Pay attention in school, kids – math matters, and it’s useful stuff.) Something clicked.

What I hadn’t understood, in spite of seeing the images, reading the reports, and discussing with doctors, was what my stenosis meant in my case, specifically. For many years, I imagined 30% percent stenosis as a uniform 30% reduction in a circular area. (I felt pretty stupid when my understanding changed.) Firstly, the spinal canal as a “tubular structure” is not a beautifully perfect mathematical cylinder wherein a slice would appear circular. Not at all. It’s quite different than that. Also, and more importantly, my injury (which crushed two vertebrae, and broke off a spinous process which was then forced into my spinal canal by the impact and subsequently could not be removed) and the repair of that injury did not result in anything like a uniform reduction in area all the way around. Not even close.

Geometry for the win. lol

Reality doesn’t care what we believe. Our pain doesn’t care what we think we understand about our body. Reality is. Pain is. Conditions are what they are regardless of our understanding. So, for years I had struggled with symptoms that made no sense to me – because I so poorly understood my condition – and which I could then not clearly articulate to doctors, who may also not have understood my condition, because (let’s just be real about this, eh) doctors are also human and also have limitations to their own knowledge (and limitations on the amount of time they can spend reading patient histories with the care needed). I understand more/better now, but… I’m still limited by all the things I do not know. I still live within a reality that I perhaps only partially understand because of those limits.

…And reality doesn’t care at all what I understand…

Our perspective and our knowledge limit our understanding – but reality goes on being real, regardless of what we think we know or how we think we understand the world around us.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Living with the pain is pretty much a requirement. There is no option to live without it, at least not now, not really. I do my best. Maybe that reality will change at some point in the future? Technology changes. Medical progress is made. I’ve learned to practice fairly skillful pain management in the meantime. I’m not complaining, not really. Good self-care and skillful pain management may not add up to a “cure for pain” – but it does help.

I sip my coffee thinking about my Traveling Partner, his injury, his surgery, his progress… he’s come so far, so fast, relatively speaking (although I know it doesn’t feel that way to him). We both deal with pain, and I don’t personally see a future where that’s not a thing we deal with, each having our own experience, each doing our best. I feel fortunate to have a better understanding of my injury than I once did. I’m grateful for a conversation at the dining room table about math and circles and ratios and areas, and grateful for a partnership that understands pain and makes room for love anyway. Grateful for love. Things could be worse.

I look out the window. My mind wanders away from the pain I’m in – probably a change for the better. It doesn’t do to dwell on the pain. Don’t get me started about this fucking headache. I sigh quietly and glance at my calendar, and the clock. It’s time to begin again.

I’ll just give you the TMI warning now, okay? If you are squeamish about the biology of women, I understand; please stop now and read something else. 😉  If you choose to stick around, welcome – we’ll resume after this lovely metaphor about women and medicine…

Mushrooms

Mushrooms

It says something about the state of medicine, where women are concerned at least, that the medical industry has yet to develop a simple, reliable, accurate test to determine whether or not a woman is ‘menopausal’, heading toward menopause, or dealing with some other variety of hormonal weirdness.  Seriously. Women have existed alongside men as medicine developed and progressed, and as far as I know the experience of our reproductive life-cycle hasn’t really evolved much… so what’s the hold up? Currently, the most reliable criteria for determining whether a woman has ‘gone through menopause’ is – and this is not the punch line of a cruel joke, it’s quite literally what we’re told – “once you’ve gone a year without having a period, you have gone through menopause”.  Um…what? Yep. That’s it. “Wait and see” is the best we’re offered.  0_o

I am counting down the days. Again. So far, 101 of them – and that beats my last count down, earlier this year, when I got to 92 days, then faced the ‘joy’ of disastrously and unpredictably heavy (and irregular) periods and the associated random opportunities to spot clean, or do extra laundry at a moment’s notice for a handful of months.  Now I am counting again.

I’m also wearing pajamas. Well, ‘sleepwear’ of some sort…  I’ve always preferred to sleep nude, as an adult. I find it more comfortable.  I like the feeling of sleeping nude… but I dislike the experience of waking abruptly in the night to find that linens need to be changed, the mattress needs spot cleaning, and a shower has become an urgent necessity; so, sleepwear has become practical beyond the sensuous preference for nudity. lol.  I find myself considering how nice it will feel to return to sleeping nude once I’m past the ‘pause… but I’m also sort of growing to enjoy the fun of sleepwear… is it an age thing? Is it vanity? Is it a good excuse to think of lingerie as ‘practical’? My taste is a bit toward soft and pretty, although in the dark…? lol.  I definitely don’t prefer long pajama pants for sleeping, though – I love the feel of smooth legs on clean sheets. 😀

I miss the clockwork regularity of my cycle in younger years… I do not miss the threat of fertility, though.  I’ve had a good cry or two over ‘I’ll never…’, that’s a pretty human experience, isn’t it?  Motherhood hasn’t been an aspiration for me, though. I’m not that woman; I have walked a very different path all along.  A brief period in my life – between about 27 and 32 – I had an undefeatable urge to reproduce.  It was an experience that felt very biological, and rather beyond my control or understanding.  At 50 I remain satisfied with a childless life, with choices other than parenting.   I’ve only ever met one man who moved me so, heart and soul, that I grieved openly in his arms that I would not ever bear his child – and although neither of us wanted children at that point in our lives, he understood me so well.  He held me while I cried, and said the soft tender things that lovers know to say, and the moment passed.  No doubt that will be one nagging regret I will have… one moment of poignant longing… one missed experience that will hold a tiny bright flame of wistfulness and sorrow that I feel now and again; to have been a mother, to have born his child, to have loved and shared and built someone new together to carry who we are in their heart and in their memory, would have been remarkable indeed.

Motherhood is not my path; I chose differently very early on, and I do not regret that, even a little bit.

That’s one promise menopause holds for me that means a lot; no more stress about unplanned pregnancy.  Sex without anxiety about reproduction is a very big deal in a very good way.  😀  Like it or not, most of the available options for birth control are actually pretty awful; powerful drugs with nasty side effects (including ruining a woman’s sex drive!), condoms (and the associated loss of sensation, inconvenience, and loss of powerful biological effect on mood from contact with flesh and bodily fluids), an assortment of grim options that involve inserting bits of metal, plastic, or other foreign objects (many of which can be felt by a partner, and not in a good way), or the last worst option – going without sex.  Medicine really hasn’t done women any favors with the crappy options we have for birth control – and society doesn’t do us any favors by playing head games with us about the ‘moral’ consequences before, during, or after.  It has gotten very tedious over 50 years being bombarded with constant reminders that sex isn’t okay (when it is) that my decision-making isn’t my own (when it is), or that I have some obligation to bear life in my body (when I don’t).   Yep – I’m more than ready to reach a point in my life when my ability to reproduce is behind me, and ‘babies!’ is not longer any element of a discussion about me, or my sexual decision-making. lol.

Menopause. There’s astonishingly little real research – or support – for this element of female experience.  It still surprises me. I mean – this affects all my partners, too, not just me. My emotional reactivity, my unpredictable hormones, my everyday health and well-being don’t exist in a vacuum! I keep expecting more from the medical industry… but in a culture where it’s okay to call a scientist who won’t work for free a whore, because she is a woman, why would I be surprised?

Anyway… the count down continues, and only 264 days to go to get my final test results back determining whether I’ve reached the ‘pause.  Most accurate test available!