It’s been an enormous while since I wrote. I changed cities. Survived a pandemic. Moved abroad. Have gone from doctor to doctor to doctor. I’m sorry to my readers for ghosting.
Chronic medical conditions do that to us. They consume. I believe my entire body’s capacity of blood was taken for tests in 2023. I actually had to pick the conditions I would attempt to treat over the previous year because I was getting overwhelmed by how many doctors I was seeing. I’m extremely privileged to be in a Universal Healthcare system now; I can see as many doctors as I want or need without fear of financial repercussions.
Unfortunately, the one specialist I truly want isn’t available, here. I’m astonished. I live in the capital city of one of the wealthiest countries in Europe. The city of free love and queer expression. I’ve spent three years searching for a vulvodynia specialist. I’ve been through two OBGyns and one surgical team for vaginismus. I still haven’t found one.
The closet vulvodynia specialist is in Regensburg, a three-hour train ride away. The time to commute, alone, has prevented me from making an attempt — even when I got an appointment. Vulvodynia isn’t a one-and-done doctor’s visit. There’s no shot, cream, or modality that will heal the body’s incessant inflammation response. Every body is different, with different causes and different presentation. It will take many, many visits before a treatment plan can be designed. So I haven’t tried.
Even in the most auspicious of circumstances treatment may be out of reach. If you’re in pain and unable to obtain medical support, know you’re not alone.
Unsexy 