Wednesday, June 16, 2010

A bullet-shaped pessary. Delightful.

I suppose I better get used to random things in my vagina. That's a big statement for a gay woman, even one who dabbled on the other team for a while there...

I'm not saying nothing goes ever in there for non-medical reasons, but sometimes...ok, I'll stop talking now. Read on.

Obstetrician's hands, lights, speculums (speculi?), nurse's fingers, bendy syringes, squeegee hormone sticks and even my own fingers as I face the fact that perineal massage could be a distressing reality waiting for me just around the corner.

So, what's a bullet-shaped pessary between friends?

Isn't that hilarious? A bullet-shaped pessary.

So, it's progesterone and I have to, ahem, insert one twice a day for the next 14 days.

According to the fact sheet, it is designed to "enhance the receptivity of the uterine lining".

For you details people out there, apparently progesterone is the hormone released in the second half (luteal phase) of the menstrual cycle by the corpus luteum (which develops in the ruptured follicle). It secretes progesterone when an egg is fertilised...and that, fine people, is exactly what has happened in this case.

Only my body, and especially my corpus luteum don't know it. So we have to make like a magician and trick it, by introducing a 14-day, 28-dose sleight of hand.

Progesterone? Pfft, of course there's progesterone. Rabbit out of a hat? Of course...!

So, yeah, twice a day I pop these strange little hard "bullets" out of their plastic casing and, ahem, insert them. They look like Cusson's Imperial Leather soap, only whiter. Oh! And not that big! Are you on crack? Jesus Christ, I am not shoving something the size of a bar of soap, or a pack of cards, in there. Bullets. I said bullets. So if you look at your little finger and measure from the tip of the nail to the middle knuckle. Like that. Small. Like bullets.

Only thing is the fact sheet reckons I need to lie down for 30 minutes after insertion. The bullet does break up, break down, break dance, hell I don't know, once it's inside...and well let's just say the resultant mass is not as solid as it started out. So yeah, I guess gravity is not going to help keep that gooey mess up and where it's meant to be.

That's no problem for the night time one, I do it right before I go to bed. But the morning? I set my phone alarm last night but the damn thing woke me up every 10 minutes as it suddenly dropped out of service and decided to beep, light up and announce to me like some paranoid Raymond Babbitt that "Hello! No service, check the signal in your area. Hello!! I'm a good driver, I AM!!" So, a plan B on the whole morning bullet shall have to be devised.

What's that? You'd like to see a photo of these dastardly pessaries? Hm, yeah, would be nice wouldn't it? I had that idea myself four pieces of chocolate, one cup of tea and 30 minutes ago. Now, well the enthusiasm has worn off.

Oh look, Google images wins again.


  1. I absolutely sympathise. Any other method of administering progesterone would be fine for me, even injections. But there aren't any alternatives. Ugh.

  2. Uk, I know. Although injections?? Wow, that's a big call. Haha. It's like most medical interventions pertaining to the female form, as if they come up with the most awkward, uncomfortable option. Pap smear anyone?

  3. I am doing these pessaries at the moment, sucks but better than oil based muscular injections!