Post #36
I keep getting the clap and tit thrush
The Incident Report · Classification: Itchy Business · Mission Status: Scratching for Answers
Well, this isn’t something I thought I’d be experiencing at this age. But the evil perimenopause witch has a knack for dumping shit on you from a great height and in this case she’s come fully loaded. I peer up through the great stinking pile of filth like a seedling breaking through the earth in search of sunlight. Except there IS NO FUCKING sunlight in this tale, just endless yick.
Sadly the yick is me. Yours truly, the dearest Crone (I hope!) is yick. Yicky under tit and yicky vagina. But I'll tell myself what I would tell all of you. STOP talking down to yourself! You are not yick and as wise old Crone that I am, I am also COfuckingRRECT! Having maladies that may be connected to perimenopause (which frankly should be taken seriously and not dismissed by doctors as HISTRIONICS or DRAMA-SEEKING) is not yick. It’s tragic. Especially when it goes unacknowledged.
Basically, this new addition to my symptoms list arrived a few months ago and it keeps on returning. At first I thought it was my nylon g-string – nope, not worn one of those since my days of wooing Tatter Cloak. I’m all about cotton bloomers these days. Then I thought it might be not having gone for a pee when I really wanted to – holding it in was also the last time I got a UTI.
So there I am pondering why my waters burn, or fire when I go for a sly itch at my boob. You know? Some people scratch their chins, others pick their fingernails when they’re thinking. Me? I go for the tit (maybe I wasn’t breastfed as a child). But lo, what’s this? The damn tit took exception to the scratching and stopped me in my tracks. Course I have to holler for Tatter Cloak to come and look at the offending article (may as well give him a bit of a thrill since putting it out is a bit FUCKING limited these days).
“Ah well, that’s the problem,” he says, sounding more like a mechanic than a husband. “Your engine’s seized up. No, just kidding love, you’ve got a rash.”
Bottom line: my under-boobs were inflamed and my vagina was on fire. Naturally, many thoughts passed through my mind, but none of them included the PERIMENOPAUSE fairy coming to town. And when the penny dropped, so did the RAGE.
When estrogen declines, the vaginal and urethral tissues can become thinner and more easily irritated. Less estrogen can also mean less glycogen available to support the good bacteria, including lactobacilli, that help keep the vagina acidic. When that balance changes, some women become more prone to vaginal infections and recurrent UTIs. Burning when you pee, though, isn't automatically a UTI — or the clap, for that matter. That’s gonorrhea, an STI, and a whole different fucking investigation.
But the vagina is nowhere near the tits, what about them? I hear you cry. Closer than you think when those boobs start to sag! But the gist of it is that hot flashes and increased sweating can trap moisture in skin folds under the boobs. Nice and warm and cozy for irritation, and sometimes Candida fungus, to start having babies. Et voilà, we may have tit thrush. Although not every under-boob rash is fungal, so it's worth getting the offending article checked rather than guessing.
And because apparently the universe hasn't finished taking the piss, recurring burning, itching or rashes deserve a proper diagnosis. A clinician can check for UTIs, vaginal infections, skin irritation or other causes, and help work out whether menopause-related changes are part of the problem.
So there we have it. The Itchy and Scratchy Show, Crone style.
KEEP IT CRONE