The first time I went in to get my intrauterine device, or IUD, my doctor asked me if I was in a relationship.
“Um, kind of?” I stammered. “I mean, no. But you know, I hear this is the way to go as far as, you know, protectiveness.”
“Hrm,” she said, flipping her chart closed. This was the first time I’d been to this gynecologist, who ran her practice in my tiny suburban hometown. I was 20, home from school on Christmas break, and tired of frantically eyeing the moon and waiting for my period once a month. Keep reading »
I used to be the sort of person who was always looking for the next big thing. In high school, I wanted to be in college. In college, I wanted to have a job. Every job I had, I wanted to be more successful.
I didn’t learn about stillness, about just being, until I had to. And I don’t think it’s coincidental that the more I just be and the more gratitude I have for my life, the happier I am.
My bouts of depression have always had a chicken-and-the-egg quality to them. Was I on a downward spiral of depression throughout my mid-20s? Or was it from my stressful and demanding job and how hard I was on myself about not being the most amazing person ever? Did I feel depressed because I studied abroad in Eastern Europe away from my family and my friends? Or was I depressed already and that trip just exacerbated it?
I don’t think there are necessarily answers other than “both.” Just the way my mom is inclined to bruise easily if she knocks her leg on a coffee table, I’m inclined to get depressed easily. I wouldn’t have chosen to be this way if I had the choice. But since this is what the lottery stuck me with, I’ve learned how to cope with it. Keep reading »
I have vilified Lady Gaga in the past (to much condemnation, given her rabid fanbase): the contrived, weird-for-attention shtick really wears on me, particularly considering it comes hand-in-hand with what basically amounts to catchy, radio-friendly pop music with a pseudo-controversial religious message here and there. I can live with her message of peace, love, and acceptance, but that isn’t enough to make a fan out of me. Here’s what is: in defense of her recent 25-pound weight gain and the ensuing media scrutiny, Gaga gets naked, or at least stripped to her skivvies, to set the “Body Revolution” in motion. Keep reading »
Earlier this week, The New York Post dropped the “exclusive” that nurses at 13 New York City public schools can dispense the morning-after pill and provide oral and injectable birth control, like Depo Provera and the Pill — “without parents’ permission.”
Keep reading »
Hello, 2012 election! Here’s your friendly reminder that reproductive rights issues are not as black and white (i.e. BAD BAD BAD) as anti-abortion extremists might think. In fact, sometimes the families of politicians themselves need … you know … choices.
Noted politics website TMZ has exclusively learned that the gestational surrogate used by Tagg Romney, son of Mitt Romney, signed an “abortion clause” in her gestational carrier agreement. The anonymous woman carried twin boys, born in May 2012, for Tagg and Jen Romney. But back in July 2011, both the couple and their surrogate signed a gestational carrier agreement which agreed the surrogate could choose to abort the fetus if harm would be done to her body and the Romneys could choose to abort if the fetus would be “physiologically, genetically or chromosomally abnormal.” Keep reading »
Even though India worships female goddesses, some of India’s expectant mothers have been pressured by a culture that privileges males into aborting their female fetuses. Authorities believe eight million girls may have been aborted in India in the last decade alone. Now the government is taking charge and planning to jail entire families for up to seven years if they abort a fetus just because it’s female. Additionally, clinicians will be fined from 1000 Rupees or sentenced to three years in prison if found performing ultrasounds to ascertain the sex of the fetus. Keep reading »
I was never that woman who dreamt of having many children or starting my own “Brady Bunch.” Babies, little booties, and bottles were always an afterthought to enjoying a successful career, one peppered with travelling the world and enjoying a range of other adult activities a childless, flexible lifestyle could provide. However, after my husband Jason was diagnosed with leukemia and underwent a bone marrow transplant (which I wrote about here), it would be an understatement to say that my priorities and narrow definition of family underwent a fundamental revolution. One year post-cancer, I began to dwell on the thought of living and dying without a family of my own.
Cancer had forced mortality to become an issue that often occupied my thoughts during sleepless nights or long car rides, and in my worst nightmare, I became the modern antagonist of some sort of widowed cat lady fairy tale. I imagined myself an old hag with cracked skin in a big castle, hoarding treasure and cackling wildly all by myself, full of bitterness and regret over my own solitude. The adult lifestyle that once felt so plush suddenly transformed into a thorny horror story, and Jason and I decided to try IVF. Keep reading »
One of the upsides to being a nurse is that I can generally tell you WHY you feel a certain way. One of the downsides is that I can generally tell you WHY you feel a certain way, which is why I rarely mention my medical background to people who don’t know me. After that one weird time on the train when someone wanted to show me their rash, I’m a little wary.
But you’ve got some weird symptoms going on, right? And maybe you’re scared because you don’t know what they mean and you’re REALLY hoping you don’t end up on an episode of “House.” Here are some possible reasons for your your bizarre and inexplicable symptoms. Read more…