Before the diagnostic

An important part of Vulvodynia is the incredible amount of time spent running from doctor to doctor, and taking tons of medication until, finally, someone tells you what you have. Here is my story. Compared to many women diagnosed with vulvodynia, it is rather short (6 weeks), but it is still much longer than it should be...


First big OUCH

Waking up on a Sunday morning… OUCH.

End of my week-end away in Eilat and now, back to normal, stressing out about about my visa…

OUCH. Wait, no, there’s something more. Right now, it somehow feels like I have washed my vagina with thistles. Ok, I know in the past few weeks, there has been some weird stuff going on down there. But naaa, I just thought it would pass...

But no, this time it’s something else. However, I’d rather swim with sharks than go to the doctor’s, especially when I’m not in my country. So, let’s go to Superpharm and buy some aloe vera gel, it'll probably go away in a few days.


First doctor: Doctor Flash

So, the gel did help a bit (placebo effect?), but, nope, 10 days later, it's still there. And, although it's nice to be smelling like aloe vera down there, I am no longer using that thing.

I now remember some of my friends telling me about their yeast infections (love it how us girl have no problem having this kind of conversation. Don’t think the guys talk so freely to each other about their penis problems). It had never occurred to me that I might have one, but that must be it. Let’s call the doctor.

Doctor Flash is the kind of doctor who doesn’t make you lose time. I love that. The less time I spent in a doctor’s office, the more I like him. I tell him I might have a yeast infection, he asks me what the symptoms are, agrees with me, and gives me the medication. After 5 minutes, I get out of his practice. That’s it! In a few days, it’s (finally!) gonna be over.


Second doctor: Doctor Peep

Guess what. It’s not over.

Dr Flash tells me to go see a gynecologist, there must be some kind of bacteria. Ok, let’s find a gynecologist. But how? Call G, she always knows.

Found one! (thanks  G). And the website even says that he speaks French.

Oh well, actually, only his secretary speaks some school French (like "bonjour" and "au revoir") that she’s too happy to show off with. Ok... I’ll do it in English, then...
He asks me the usual questions before we start, and he seriously looks like he is not comfortable talking about sex! He seems particularly shocked when I tell him I'm not married. Why on earth would a man become a gynecologist if he is not comfortable talking about sex??
Anyway, I tell him about my problem, then he "examines" me, i.e. after a short peep at my vagina (because, who needs vaginal swabs and labs?), he decides that I have trichomonas, something he says women commonly get from the toilet seat. Gives me antibiotics and a myriad of things to put inside my vagina (I swear, it’s becoming a real pharmacy down there).Then he tells me to come back in a week, so he can make sure that it’s gone.
I pay the equivalent of a 130$ (that hurts, knowing that I won’t get the money back from the insurance until I get back to France, whenever THAT’s gonna be).


Mad at Boyfriend

After a trip to Superpharm to buy the best products, I come home, spend about 30mins cleaning the toilet, and do a little research about trichomonas.

First of all, you can’t really catch this thing over the toilet (man, I just spent money and time on this thing!):


Second visit to doctor Peep

After a week of treatment, and 3 days in bed, knocked off by the antibiotics, I go back to Dr Peep.

Once again, the doctor peeps at my vagina, tells me he’s happy to announce that it’s all gone (yeah!!! But why don’t I really believe him?), and does the usual check-up, you know, testing if everything’s fine with your uterus and all. He tells me it’s to be sure. To be sure of what? Even I know that’s a regular check-up, that has nothing to do with infections...


Not over yet...

Back home. Surprise, surprise! In the same evening, the symptoms are back. Itching. I need to pee all the time, and when I do, it burns.


Third doctor

I don’t have a name for this one, coz it's not funny anymore (not that it ever was). I go to some kind of clinic. And they send me to another clinic... which is in B'nei Brak, a part of town inhabited by orthodox Jews. That clinic is full of religious women. Pregnant, religious women. Somehow, now I feel dressed like a slut. On the other hand, it's maybe the first time in a while I kinda feel sexy (you know, in comparison...)

Whatever, after hours of debating with the secretaries, nurses, and eventually even the doctor (because no one seems to know that tourists can, in fact, be treated here), we finally get in front of the doctor. This one also doesn’t look particularly happy to talk about these things, and doesn’t lose his poker face during the whole consultation. He examines me, without paying too much attention to me jumping to the roof every time he puts something in there. Says it's almost nothing, maybe there's some kind of bacteria. He gives me antibiotics and sends us home, without any swab, cos, you know, it's not possible for tourists. Now what do I have to do to get lab tests???

Anyway, let's hope that this time, I hit the jackpot.


No jackpot

No, the symptoms are still there. It has now been a month and a half.

Six weeks of pain, crying, nagging, desperation, stress, a lot of money spent in doctors, medication and transport... and for the first time in my life, I don't feel feminine.

But I don't give up. This time, following my uncle's advice, I call my consulate and get the names of French-speaking, recommended gynecologists. And I get lucky, appointment in the evening:
where I discover...