I’m giving the people what they want tonight. Okay… no one has said they want a year long story about my vagina at all but I’m gonna give it to you all. I know you’re secretly fucking creeps, let’s be real!
In the first half of last year I had a vagina problem. If you have a vagina you’ll feel me. YOU JUST KNOW SOMETHING IS TURNING NOT RIGHT. You feel it in your bones. The slightest change in vagina flora and you are SHOOK AF. This happened to me but I am always like nah I have anxiety, it’s just a bad day for my vag – it’ll be fine. Fine is was not.
Sooooo I did what every poor person does and was like yeh it’s thrush (after a quick google and not fulfilling half the symptoms but being hopeful). I got that thrush $20 expensive as shit tablet. It didn’t work. I got the 10 day cream instead because apparently that’s what you do when the tablet doesn’t work. It didn’t work either. I then went to the doctor near my house because they bulk billed. I got this old as hell asian granddad who actually dribbled so intensely that the spit was from his mouth to the carpet!! He spat when he talked too and one landed on my knee. I was well and truly done before it even started. But I was like um I have a UTI probs but idk. And he goes “why do you think you have a UTI?” Well that struck me cos it was just another stab in the dark of mine after the thrush stab in the dark that failed. He said that it sounded exactly like thrush but because I’d done my own treatment that failed he’d test for everything. I was like NO NONO frantically just picturing this old af dude up in my vag swabbing it. But he wouldn’t let me go without a swab.
Thank god, and unbeknown to me, a female nurse was on swab duties. I dodged a bullet. I sighed the hugest sigh of relief ever. I was soooo salty that he didn’t give me any relief though like an antibiotic or something to fix this shit. The nurse even said it didn’t look anything like thrush and he should have trusted me when I said it was a UTI and given me meds. HA TAKE THAT DUMB DOCTOR!
I go home itching the whole way and came to terms with the fact that I was stuck with this raw as hell vag for a few more days until results came in. I even put the call out to facebook to help and someone said a tampon dipped in yoghurt. I did it. It brought sheer relief. THE COLD COLD RELIEF OF A BURNING RAW VAG. It didn’t work though. Neither did coconut oil on a tampon up the hole either. I tried that one from google.
I go back to get my results and it’s Urea Plasma. What.in.the.actual.fuck.is.that.
I got some very-common-STI-antibiotic and that was it. SEE-YA. It turned out that by the time my vagina was cured, I hadn’t had sex in 6 weeks or something. Sex was not even on my mind though because all I could think about was my vagina 24/7.
On the walk home from the doctors I googled Urea Plasma and I found this super amazing blog that just summed up my situation. I just re-read it now and it’s still speaking so many truths. I’m just so grateful my doctor tested for it the first time. I cannot imagine dealing with that shit for six months!
Fast forward to about 2 months ago. The same visitor comes back. It starts with the burnies when I pee. I just start having Eleven from Stranger Things Flashbacks at 5:30am on the toilet. NOOO WAYYYY can this happen again. I think I’m just being dramatic and block the burning out of my mind for many days until it gets terrible and I cannot be in public because of my need to scratch. I book the first doctor I can find available that day (which turns out to be a giant mistake).
The first thing doctors want to tell you is that you have an STI. Because you are young and are sexually active despite being a condom user. THEY JUST DON’T EVER TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY. So after going through my sexual fucking history of being with the same person forever and condoms and my former Urea Plasma AND EVERYTHING, she finally asks me how comfortable I am with a swab. I’m like m8 I’ll spread my legs like it’s my profession because I just want this done. I’m also a nudist and I have no body shame whatsoever so yeh that’s a good thing about me I suppose. After getting up in my vag she says that it’s bleeding when she gets near the cervix which could indicate gonorrhoea or some other STI bullshit. I roll my eyes and demand she still test me for mycoplasma and every other vagina related test ever. This was on a friday so we go through the whole “shit ay you are gonna be in this much discomfort all weekend and half a week until the results come back.” She also tells me I should just go to the chemist and get the yeastie tab. I do this without hesitation. It does not work FUCK.
I called the doctors surgery every morning and afternoon asking if my results were in. I’m living and breathing this vagina discomfort. I’m scratching my crotch non stop in the presence of my family. I have given up.
On one day I was actually in Brisbane for appointments and I distinctly remember calling the surgery from a car park and asking about the results to which the receptionist is like “oh codii… yeh bad news – the results came back and it says the doctor didn’t put the swab in the right gel so the test can’t be examined.”
TIME TO LAY UNDER A CAR WHEEL AND LET THE GOOD DEATH HAPPEN. She tells me I need to book in another appointment for another swab. It’s now another Friday! I’m going to have to wait the weekend and half the week again for the results. To sprinkle more bullshit to this drama, when I try to book another appointment I’m told that all doctors are booked out and I’ll need to wait until next week. It went so far as me speaking to the fucking practice manager and doing the disgruntled “you’ve fucked up and I’m still suffering and you’re major cunts, give me an appointment right this minute” before I got that damn fucking appointment. The doctor apologised and told me the swab got lost in transit and she’s very sorry. WTF. Didn’t even call her out on her bullshit lie because I need HELP. INSTANTLY.
The test comes back saying Candida Tropicalis. Sounds like a cocktail that definitely includes mango and pineapple, right?? The receptionist lady who told me the results was like yeh it’s just thrush go get some cream or whatever.
We’ve been through this already love. It ain’t workin’.
I take the actual results to my normal doctor who is an asian dad who I most certainly don’t want anywhere near my vagina because I see him weekly and he says I need boric acid tablets. WTF. I tell Malcolm and he’s like “isn’t that the stuff from Bunnings that kills ants?” Apparently it always kills vag fungal infections. The doctor tells me there’s only one chemist that sells it. Okay?? This is all just getting a bit much.
I go and get the script filled. The lady is like okay that’s just $50. I almost died. 50 FUCKING DOLLARYDOOS FOR ANT KILLER THAT I HAVE TO PUT UP MY VAGINA????????????? I’m still super salty. I couldn’t complain though because I needed that shit desperately. It was my only hope. The chemist also asks why I only have a script for 10 tablets because everyone else always has a 14 day script. Fucking great, another doctor has fucked up.
I go home and put that fucking tablet up my bomb ass pu$$y every night. The relief hits a few days in and I cannot ever imagine the fire vag I had before. Everything is well. I do think about the treatment only being for 10 days instead of 14 but people on instagram always talk about the power of positivity so I let that shit go. The doctor knows best, right? Jesus take the wheel. Let my vag heal.
Everything is chill for a month until I go for that regular 5:30am piss and it burns. Nah, I’m just being dramatic again, this isn’t anything. Don’t sweat it, sweaty. It’s another friday by the time I admit defeat. I go to the first doctor I can find and explain my vag history. She just gives me the $50 acid pussy tablets and see’s me on my way. She should have said may the force be with you to help me heal. RUDE. I need some sort of divine force to help at this stage. I don’t go straight to the chemist after the doctor because it’s across the other side of town and I’m sooooo cfs tired that I was concerned for my safety in driving myself that long distance. I sleep all afternoon and the chemist shuts. Doesn’t matter, there’s always tomorrow :):):):) I go “tomorrow” and it’s closed because it’s after 12pm on Saturday. Sunday they aren’t open according to google and Monday is a public holiday. I FUCKED THE FUCK UP. I have no one to blame but myself.
I do the next best thing and go have a casual chat with the chemist. I end up picking a thrush cream in a purple box because I like the colour purple so that’s a good sign. I’m not even kidding. The chemist got so invested in my vag I truly feel like I need to go and update him once my vagina is healed.
BUT IT AIN’T. AND I AIN’T SPENDING ANY MORE TIME ON IT BECAUSE EVERY 3 MONTHS A PERSON IN NORTH QLD IS TORN TO PIECES BY A CROCODILE.
Tuesday comes. The day of HOPE. But Malcolm fucking reks himself and we spend all day in the emergency department. Bae before vagina. Number 1 girlfriend.
On the bless’d Wednesday I fork out $50 for the acid tablets again. I’m still on them. The doctor made sure she gave me 14 days in case that was the issue before and the fungal shit wasn’t entirely killed off after 10 days.
No one cares that I now have a chronic yeastie problem. I am alone in my suffering. My friends boyfriend is the most caring person so far to be honest. He’s like wow you now have a chronic yeast infection, you should follow this up with the doc.
I don’t know the point of this blog. I actually genuinely want people to be aware of Mycoplasma’s though because they are so fucked and so many doctors don’t know anything about them!
I guess I also want sympathy. I also want you to laugh at my newly termed “bomb acid pussy.”
Codii – part time legend, full time ant killer vag.
I want this hashtag trending – #p4cv (pray for codii’s va ju ju).
My va ju ju has a vagenda and I’m still trying to figure out what the cunt wants. Send your best troops.