Same self, same problems, different pills
Contraception is usually the most common reason for the first visit to the gynecologist. Which of you really cared about PAP smear and the health of your vagina? No, when sex and the first serious guy happen, the main reason for visiting the gynecologist is birth control pills.
I was sixteen when I first got mine. I knew countless pill brands, so I left the decision to my gynecologist. Even this did not worry me that it was precisely when one of the types of birth control pills caused health problems for some women, and this news appeared in all the media. The hardest part of the first two weeks was having sex with a condom as if it hadn't been the regular practice for me all last year. But when I was finally on the safe side, I didn't want to trade the pills for anything in the world. I scheduled my periods for the holidays, which became milder and less painful. The acne disappeared from my face, and the hairs I had a lot of trouble with seemed rarer and much less black. Not to mention sex.
But my one and only and eternal great love ended, and taking hormonal contraception no longer made sense to me. I let my menstrual cramps, mood swings, and pimples hit me back. I also had to start planning my vacation again, or suffer on the beach in shorts and watch everyone else happily soaking in the sea. I don't like tampons, so I was sentenced to a burnt worker tan.
A few years later, a benign lump appeared in my left breast, and doctors could not agree on whether hormonal contraception was to blame or the reason lay elsewhere. After the surgery, I was preventively forbidden to use birth control pills. At that time, I also started sweating heavily at night, about a week before my period. It was like returning to when I was a kid, wetting my bed. I could watch the stream on my stomach and neck. The time has come for an urgent visit to the gynecologist.
I did not learn anything there that I did not already suspect - the hormones were playing tricks on me, but apparently not enough to check it out. I only had to wait until I was thirty when this was supposed to miraculously pass. I turned thirty, then thirty-one, thirty-two, and still sweated like a pig at night. At least I got rid of the monthly intake of painkillers, but my mood swung even more. For the first time in my life, I understood women who cry or rage for no reason before their period. Nevertheless, I did not mention this to my gynecologist at regular check-ups.
This year, however, because of sex, of course, I was suggested by a friend to try a copper UTI. For two months, I was checking different websites and learning about safety. Apart from cramps and heavier periods, I found no reason not to ask for it. But I was still afraid that my lying in bed and running to the toilet would return so that a red stain would not appear on my pants.
I made an appointment with a gynecologist, and it was decided that I should come sooner than I had anticipated due to a regular PAP smear. It was delayed a bit only by premature menstruation. Still, in the blink of an eye, I was lying in a chair, talking to a gynecologist about contraception. The mention of a copper uterine insert met with resistance, as well as the hormonal UTI, saying that it is recommended only for women who have already given birth. Since I was unsure, I did not insist, even though I would not have children.
She quickly offered me another solution - hormonal pills called Drovelis, which were not supposed to be dangerous for my health condition, even though birth control pills were not recommended to me years ago. I double-checked whether they cause clots and how they will affect the appearance of benign formations. However, the gynecologist was convinced they would help me with night sweats and the rest of the problems. Before I knew it, I left the doctor's office with a prescription for three packages of pills, but my head did not give me a break.
When I was reviewing the literature on the Internet and the instructions for use, I wanted to be sixteen again and not be afraid of the pill like I wasn't fifteen years ago. Instead, on one hand, I imagined much calmer sex if I took drugs; on the other, I saw myself in an ambulance because something would go wrong. I understand that fear is overblown, but I can't resist it. It sucked me in.
Nevertheless, I was 93% determined to give them a chance and see how it would be. I was supposed to start taking them at the start of my next period, but my decision was defeated by COVID-19. And I was at the beginning again, full of doubts and questions.