Something to talk about…

Time to talk day has just be crept across my timeline. I’m hoping it’s a testament to how attitudes have changed towards what is needed in the mental health sphere that I’m only being alerted to it at 9.30pm. Despite my cynicism I clicked and perused the website.

Sadly, it’s the same old story. Like most other mainstream advocacy for mental illness, Time to talk fails in tackling the real barriers people with mental illness face. Of course it is important to dispel stigma around mental health problems. It is also great to encourage people to support friends, colleagues etc. The tips on how to approach such conversations are fairly helpful. My issue with this model is that I don’t believe it acknowledges the depth & breath of the problem. In fact, I would go further in saying that the offering a listening ear platitudes can even diminish the experience of many with mental illness.

I’m 43yrs old and I have managed various levels of mental Illness almost entire and life. In all of that time the NHS has been under resourced in the mental health sector. As the years have gone by funding has been slashed and the problem has grown. We have been at crisis status for a very long time. There has been an uptake in mental health awareness. Campaign after campaign successfully identified warning signs and urged us to seek help. Unfortunately, the help requested is most often not forthcoming.

At the moment just getting a Gp appointment can be an enormous struggle. From there referral to primary mental health services always results in landing in a very long waiting list. If you can survive that wait, the treatment available can be limited. The first line is usually a limited course of CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy). CBT can of course be effective for some issues. It is not an answer for more complex mental illness. Alongside CBT there are a variety of helplines and websites, which can offer valuable information, but do not constitute treatment. There are of course psychiatric medications. These can be life saving and do improve the lives of millions. However, they are not magic, most often they must be used in conjunction with other therapies.

A referral beyond the intial interventions already mentioned is difficult to obtain. Infuriatingly, not everyone merits a place on their waiting lists. Those who do make it are in for another privilege wait. The quality, duration & efficacy of what is available at the end of that line is unknown. There are excellent professionals, treatments & resources, but they are stretched beyond thin. There simply aren’t beds, funding or staffing to provide the appropriate treatment & support for everyone who needs it. The result is, most people are shirt changed. Problems that could be caught early are allowed to progress. Serious problems become emergencies. In short, our population suffers more mental illness and become trapped in illness for longer. Some, forever.

Beyond the personal tragedy, the social and economic toll this takes is clear. People become unable to work, care for their families, participate in their communities, they then are laden with whole new set of problems. This of course negatively impacts their mental health and round they go. More people end up in crisis with no where to turn but emergency services, which are not equipped to render proper treatment. Again worsening the situation of the individual and eroding resources available overall. Apply this cycle across the board and it becomes obvious how vicious it is. It is an enormous widespread problem that can not be solved without massive funding, recruitment and a re evaluation of government policy.

Atop those failings is the fundamental shortcomings of the message itself. Breaking down stigma is vital. However, I think the focus of these campaigns, asking how people are feeling, actually is listening to the answer and so on, don’t go nearly far enough. It gives the impression that all mental illness can be easily solved. The adverts and literature are always about depression or anxiety. They show the palatable side of these conditions; someone who has a difficult period and with a little help from their friends gets better. Images of people crying or holding their head in their hands distort the reality of living with such conditions. When someone can’t get out of bed or in the shower for days on end, when they can’t function or find relief despite those caring chats it’s a shock. A check in with the Gp & some anti depressants won’t cure everything. Mental illness encompasses a myriad of conditions. Symptoms can be extraordinarily distressing and debilitating. Some are enduring illnesses that require complex and specialised treatment. Conditions like schizophrenia, Ptsd or Bpd are rarely discussed. Instead they’re sensationalised & misrepresented in the media. Perpetuating dangerous ideas about those living with certain conditions. The fear and shame have not been dispelled. We’ve merely carved out a tiny category of ‘acceptable’ mental illness.

The recovery narrative presented in mainstream mental health advocacy is too simple. Not everyone gets better. Lots of people instead learn to manage their mental illness. Others have recurring episodes. They are still smart, loving, valuable human beings. When all society is presented with is neat stories of struggle, seek help, return to health forever expectations are unrealistic . Those who don’t follow that template become doubted. Compassion turns to thinking they’re not trying hard enough or maybe they’re exaggerating. Stigma persists. We need an informed public. Not only on the broader experience of mental illness, but on ways to bring about change. People should know why our services are failing. The power of our voices and votes must be understood. We also need education around navigating the systems that exist. Everyone should be aware of how best to advocate for themselves and loved ones. We do need to talk, it’s just a much bigger conversation.

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Stormy weather…

I’ve never feared storms. On the contrary, I mostly find them comforting. Thunder, gales, torrential downpour all increase my sense of safety as long as I experience their strength from behind four walls. Nothing feels quite as cosy as listening to wild weather batter around one’s secure domicile. The sounds are soothing. The gratitude of having a comfortable place to take shelter brings a warm contentment. Similarly, I enjoy rough seas. I’ve always preferred a desolate winter beach to one that is sundrenched. I find a listing vessel thrilling. I hope for a crossing choppy enough to produce that I don’t know where my foot will land when I take a step sensation. Crashing waves, howling winds, angry skies; tick, tick, tick.

There is only one niggle. If Mother Nature is unsettled in conjunction with my mind things can get rocky. Only a very particular mood presents a problem. Clear cut emotions pose no threat. If I’m sad the rain feels appropriate. Angry and my dirt is matched.However, if a storm hits when my mind is in conflict with itself, batten down the hatches. Sometimes what I want to feel clashes up against what I actually do feel. Other times I can’t decipher exactly what I think or feel. Then there are the overlapping, opposing emotions running around up there. All of which are heightened by a natural uproar. Somehow nature’s dramatics heighten my confusion. I can’t straighten out my insides & the untamed outdoors gives the mess a false significance. Querulous suppositions that might otherwise pass are given weight. Being aware of this does nothing to lessen the frustration. One can’t logic their way out of a metaphorical brick in the stomach. 

Thus tonight I am in flux. Craziness swirls beyond my bedroom window & behind my eyes. I can’t unpick the tangle. Perhaps I’ll know what I feel tomorrow

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Blue Christmas…

I love Christmas. The focus on giving and spending time with loved ones is special. I like the way it makes strangers wish each other merry. It warms my heart to see little ones really believing in the magic of Santa Claus. Tis the season, right?

Well, yes and also a little bit no. The last few weeks have been a whirl of wrapping gifts, singing carols with excited little people, twinkly lights & festive fun. I have adored every minute of it. However, now that all the presents are delivered and prep is completed I feel a tad blue. This always happens. I needed a rest day before the main event, but as soon as I slow down it hits.

My siblings and friends are having cosy days at home with their families. My Christmas nest is empty. I can’t help but think of what could have been. All traditions I wanted to pass on; opening just one present on Xmas eve, fuzzy red stockings with their names in gold, snuggling with Santa hyped darlings as we read a new festive bed time story. Then the frantic readying of gifts whilst my babies sleep. Santa presents wouldn’t be wrapped in my house; just lain out beautifully in the living room. Ready to be enjoyed the second they wake. There wouldn’t be any Christmas morning rules. Rising before dawn, chocolate for breakfast, all out Christmas chaos would be just fine. There’s an unsung seasonal opera in my head.

I know I’m very lucky. Tomorrow I will be with family. Exchanging gifts and clinking glasses. I’ll watch my nephew tear open his gifts and be loaded with big loving squeezes. I’m safe, warm & loved. That is a lot to be grateful for. There’s still hint of sorrow for the dreams that didn’t come to pass.

I know I’m not alone in being touched by sadness at this time of year. If you’re struggling this year, I’m sending love. If joy is out reach I hope you can find some peace.

I’d rather be fat and happy…

About a month ago I made a Tik Tok about wegovy & similar ‘weight loss’ jabs. I had seen a lot of people promoting them, giving advice on how to get them prescribed etc. These positive posts all had notable omissions. I wanted to address the missing information.

I am fully behind bodily autonomy & wouldn’t tell people what to do with their bodies. However, I think it is essential that we have all the information before making medical decisions. It’s impossible to consent to treatment if you aren’t informed of all the risks, side effects and so on.

The current information on medications of this type is that weight loss will be most significant in the first 6months. Loss will peak at 1year and regardless of how long you remain on the drug, you will start to regain after that point. Regaining any weight lost is not only a certainty, it will happen fast. In fact the data shows that the pattern of weight loss & gain is similar to other methods of intentional weight loss. You are likely to regain not only the weight lost, but a little extra on top too.

People who have these injections report many gastric symptoms. Extreme nausea, vomiting & diarrhoea sometimes for weeks or months at a time. For others those side effects never settle. Long term use increases the risk of gallbladder problems & pancreatitis. Both are very painful, the latter can be deadly if not promptly treated. It’s also important to note that these injections have not been licensed for more than 2yrs for use in non diabetics. They have also never been prescribed in such high doses. The truth is there are still many unknowns. What we do know for sure it that these medications have serious risks & promise only short term results.

So, why am I going over all this again? Today I got a notification of a comment on that video. Reading it broke my heart.

I understand that sentiment. I used to feel that way. I’d make jokes about smoking instead of eating; saying as long as I was a thin corpse I didn’t care. I know how painful it is to feel that way. What’s worse is I know that many of the professionals who swore an oath to ‘do no harm’ feel the same way. Fat phobia is so ingrained in the medical profession that Drs recommend harmful meds, diets & surgeries to fat patients. Rushed to market, poorly tested and even known to be ineffective interventions. It matters not, because they’d rather we be sick or even dead than fat.

We deserve better. We should be able to consult our Drs when needed without the dreaded weight loss chat. We are entitled to treatments & procedures without having to first agree to dangerous diets. We are as worthy of respect and compassion as any other patient. And, we can demand it.

There are so many amazing resources to help fat patients deal with medical weight stigma. Two of my favourite fat positive medical folks are Dr Asher Larmie & Dr Joshua Wolrich both have written extensively on the topic. I cannot recommend their work enough.

I also support the anti diet work of :

Gillian Wilson

Vinny Welsby

Fat Women of Colour

Dr Diana Gordon

I too am happy to help if I can. I’m not a medical health professional, but have learned many strategies for dealing with anti fat Drs. I’m always delighted to pass these on.

If Bronan’s belly is cute, so is yours.

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Don’t Ask, Don’t Assume…

The government has launched yet another useless campaign. This time they claim the aim is empowering & dispelling myths about disabled people.

In my opinion Ask Don’t Assume is a big fail. I don’t seem to be alone in that opinion. Many disabled people agree that encouraging the public at large to ask us whatever questions into pop their heads is a terrible idea. The government claim to have done extensive research. According to Minister for Disabled People, Health & Work, Tom Pursglove that ‘extensive research was with 500+ people with lived experience of disability. To be honest I’m surprised they found 500 people who thought this was a good campaign. However, with 6.3 million people currently entitled to disability benefits*, consulting 500 does not qualify as extensive.

One of the problems I encounter as a disabled/chronically ill person is maintaining boundaries. So many strangers don’t think twice of asking personal & invasive questions. Almost every time I leave the house someone will ask ‘what’s wrong with you’. In recent years Tory policies regarding disability benefits have led to more people holding hostile views. Disabled people are often viewed with suspicion, which leads to strangers demanding information from me. People who know nothing about me or my circumstances feel entitled to my private medical information just incase I am somehow ‘scrounging’ benefits. A government campaign with the tagline, Ask Don’t Assume, legitimatises this behaviour.

Further, a lot of the campaign materials include toxic positivity/inspiration porn content. I watched a video with a woman describing her disability as a strength and as something that ‘can give back’. Everyone is of course able to decide what disability means to them, but none of this resonates with me. My disabilities make my life much harder. There are lots of thing I simply can not do. Even the most mundane of daily tasks are negatively impacted by my conditions. That doesn’t feel like a strength to me. I also cannot comprehend how a disability ‘gives back’. Do my defective knees perform acts of service? Or is my daily fainting somehow contributing to a greater good? If so, I haven’t seen the evidence or benefit.

I do not believe that this narrative is advantageous to the disabled community. Our value is not tied up in how well we overcome our disabilities. Disabled & sick people require accommodations. There will always be things we cannot do without assistance or at all. Our bodies do not function like the average person. There is no amount of determination or strength that can change that. The onus should not be on us to make abled bodied people feel comfortable with that. Disabled people should not have to be grateful, inspirational or make themselves ill trying to prove their worth.

There have also been calls for our government to address their obvious failings with regards to disability rights. The Tories have spent over a decade attacking disabled people. Their continued battle to deprive people of vital benefits has done untold harm. Purposely making it incredibly difficult for those with mental illness to qualify for support is intolerable. Their persistent refusal to acknowledge UN reports on the circumstances of disabled people in the UK. Along with long-standing inequalities such as disabled people being unable to live with a partner or marry without losing disability benefits. There are many urgent issues this government could address if they truly wanted to empower disabled people. This is very poorly executed lip service.

If someone wants to share about themselves, they will do so. If a person requires your assistance, they will request it. There are very few instances in which is imperative to know the details of someone’s disability. The exceptions, health & safety in the workplace, safely accessing facilities and so on can all be handled discretely & professionally. There is never a reason to intrude on a disabled person’s privacy. This campaign does the opposite of its stated objectives. Considering it is a Conservative initiative, no one is surprised.

* UK Disability Statistics Feb 2023.

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How I’m feeling now…

I have been somewhat absent here. Anxiety has engulfed me. There is a very specific reason for the anxiety, unfortunately it is not a thing that I control or fix.

Theoretically being able to pinpoint the trigger means it I should have a definite end point. However, since resolution is not within power the uncertainty persists. I can’t even begin to address the issue until next week, which leaves me endlessly playing out scenarios in my head. It is sickeningly stressful. The fear that has been sitting on my chest for a week feels like it’s attempting to climb up & grab for my throat.

I’ve tried every calming weapon in my arsenal to little effect. When I managed to leave the house every sensation was painfully amplified. I was both submerged in sound & every noise was taking place inside my body. Likewise, every living being in my approximate vicinity seemed claustrophobically close. I felt dangerously on display & incapable of making a quick retreat. Sitting still was impossible, but moving left me gasping for breath. I couldn’t decipher if it was Pots or anxiety related. The more I worried about it, the less able I was to catch my breath.

Outside was brutal. Inside is merely a more measured torment. The slow drip of water torture rather than the ripping out of finger nails. I remain on high alert. For what I don’t know; there is no physical threat. My mind stubbornly refuses to divert course. If I pull it astray thoughts quickly revert to dissecting worse case situations. This is very much a wait and see kind of issue. Strategising & replaying every possible outcome cannot help me.

Still, I lie awake at night with my heart pounding. When I finally dip into sleep my subconscious conjures catastrophes that aren’t even feasible. I awake in a panic that fades to dread. An awful gnawing fear the dark summons in the certain absence of slumber. I never feel more inclined to screaming than when imprisoned in insomnia. 3am worries are no one’s friend.

Of course I reassure myself that I can survive subpar outcomes. I do know that this extreme horror level of anxiety will not last forever. I’ve coped with worse & there will be much better days. My mind simply doesn’t care. We’re hyped up to life or death threat defence and it has no intention backing down. If I had a bunker, I would be in it.

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Supercut of me…

Last year was tough. Long covid/Pots really did a number on my already subpar health. It was hard to keep on top of even basic daily tasks. All aspects of my life suffered. In an effort to shake that not quite enough feeling I’ve raided the brain for my 2022 highlights.

I contributed to the book Rebel Bodies by Sarah Graham. It’s an incredible piece of work about the gender gap in healthcare. Sarah covers the intersections of gender, weight, age & disability whilst deconstructing the barriers women & non binary people face when trying to access appropriate medical care. I am so proud to share my story of medical weight stigma and be part of this book.

In April we took my Mum on a birthday trip to Salzburg. She had a big birthday at the end of 2021 & we wanted to do something special. Mum loves The Sound of Music & has always talked about going to Salzburg. This year, she finally got there and it was magical. We stayed at Schloss Leopoldskron, where the movie was filmed, took a private Sound of Music tour and had a generally amazing time. Salzburg is incredibly beautiful and taking Mum on her dream holiday was wonderful.

At the very beginning of ‘22 I was a guest on the Anti Diet Club podcast. The pod creators Gillian Wilson and Tamsin Broster are dedicated to helping others divest from diet culture. I love the work they do and was honoured that they considered my voice worth hearing. It is such a pleasure to connect with others who are committed to fighting fat phobia.

This summer I got to revive a love from my youth. I thought festivals were a thing of the past for me, but thank to TRNSMT’s comprehensive accessibility accommodations I was back in the game. Watching bands, whilst sipping cider in the sun with my bestie & sister made me feel 22 again. Screaming along with The Strokes as the the sun went down was such a highlight.

This one might seem small, but felt significant to me. The Guardian journalist Martin Belam recommended me in his Friday Reads. Having a writer I respect enjoy my work enough to share it felt good. Especially in a year when my health has interfered with my creative output.

Last, but never least is of course being an Auntie. It is my biggest joy. I am so excited to watch all of my niblings grow. Last year they continued to surprise & impress. I am endlessly grateful to be part of their lives.

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All those chandeliers of hope…

Christmas is a funny old time. We’re all feeling sentimental and emotions are heightened. I struggled a little this year, but still had a beautiful Christmas Day.

I got all dressed up for Christmas with family & friends. We had lots of food, presents & excited children. I feel loved & grateful for having such wonderful people in my life. Especially that I am blessed with so many niblings to adore. I’m equally thankful that I can spend the post festivity stretch ensconced in jammies & cosy socks.

I know this time of year can be hard for a multitude of reasons. Xmas is all about children and I find myself dwelling on how different my life could be. There are so many reminders of what I have lost. If these past weeks have been arduous, I hope you were able to have as merry a time as possible. If merry is a stretch, then I wish you peace & a better new year.

Here’s to 2023!

In the name of the Father, the Skeptic & Son…

I was raised Roman Catholic. I went to mass every Sunday, made confessions, took communion. I attended catholic schools. My primary school was flanked by a chapel, a missionary monastery & a convent. By virtue of attending those schools most of my friends were also catholic. We all prayed before lunchtime, sang hymns in assembly and had regular R.E. Classes. What I mean is I understand how organised religion works. I was immersed in dogma throughout my childhood.

That’s not to say I always liked it. Even early on I remember having the distinct feeling that some it was icky. I didn’t like the bullying ways of my school chaplains. Some of the things my teachers hammered home did not fit with the whole peace & love vibe. Mass was never anything other than a thing to be endured. Catholicism always felt too rigid.

It wasn’t until I hit secondary school that I really started to call bullshit. I didn’t believe much of what I was being taught. More importantly I hated the intolerance. Catholic views on sex, sexuality, gender roles, abortion and so much more simply did not align with my own. Neither did they fit with what I had learned at home. I couldn’t bite my tongue in the face of bigotry dressed up as god’s word. Nor could I bring myself to do the cherry picking that many religious folks do. The catholic faith felt like a straight jacket & I would not be restrained.

Thus, I drifted away. I stopped going to mass. I let myself question everything I had absorbed. I dug into the history of the church and its current practices. The more informed I became the less respect I had for any of it. It’s all steeped in atrocities & injustice. Organised religion it seemed was just a way to control the masses. What better way to impose your will than to tell people it was in fact, god’s will. By the time I finished school I no longer considered or described myself catholic at all. I had & have no use for any organised religion. I believe there is a higher power of some description, but not some patriarchal judge in the sky.

Most of my family still belong to the church. I have friends of various faiths & none. I’m very much a live & let live type of person. As long as no one is trying to impose their beliefs upon me or actively do harm in the name of religion; I don’t consider it my business. I do however retain a distrust & distaste for the institutions. I want no part of it.

I tell you all this in order for you to understand how I felt when I received this comment on something I wrote on the anniversary of my baby’s due date.

Anger was my main reaction. I removed the comment & blocked the (blank) account. I hated the thought of someone more vulnerable than myself receiving such a comment. I felt angry that this so called church elder was trawling for people they thought they could manipulate. However, I didn’t want to give it anymore time or energy. They were blocked; end of story.

Unfortunately not. A couple of weeks later, on my birthday, I received an email. This time from a church elder named Liam McIntosh. It was more of the same. Insulting & ignorant comments about my life, offers of ‘support’ and that suspicious claim of referral from a concerned friend. There is not a single person in my life who if concerned would ask the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints to help me. This contact enraged me. I have an excellent support system, a sense of purpose and lots of joy in my life. However, I am aware that many people do not. I remember how little it took to overwhelm me when I was in the depths of mental illness & grief. I am also cognisant of how easily some people who feel desperate may be manipulated. Both messages utilised abuse tactics; belittle, claim to be doing so for the victim’s benefit and then purport to have all the answers. A church setting out to prey on vulnerable people in this manner sickens me.

This kind of behaviour is exactly why I do not like organised religion. It is predatory. This organisation is clearly seeking out people they believe to be vulnerable in order to manipulate them. I am not that person. I share my experiences in order to dispel stigma. I find the ‘concerned friend’ tactic particularly disturbing as it purposely exploits the guilt & shame that many people in difficult circumstances already feel.

After receiving that email I felt sufficiently angry & concerned to act. I tried to track down both men who contacted me. I could find no trace of either on official church websites etc nor could I find any record of professional training that would qualify them to offer such advice. The only COFLDS that I could find in Hamilton has disbanded. I called Edinburgh & Glasgow branches, but neither wanted to comment. Nor would they provide details of anyone in a senior role to discuss these communications. Some elders though are obviously reading this blog, perhaps they would like explain themselves?

I’m not finished with this. I am worried about the harm these unethical strategies could cause. As a result I am working on a more in depth piece for publication. If you or someone you know has been contacted in this way, I would like to hear from you.

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More than embarrassing…

We’re all familiar with the reminder letters and campaigns urging us not to miss our cervical smear test. We are rightly told how important they are in detecting cancers early. I’m glad these tests are available. I am also happy that we are educated on why these tests are so necessary. However, I find myself increasingly frustrated with the messaging.

Gloved hand holding a clear speculum

So often when a person or organisation wants to encourage people to attend cervical screenings they focus on how easy it is. We’re told it is silly to be embarrassed and it will be over in a flash. Don’t risk your life over 5 mins of feeling awkward is repeated. Smear tests are confidently declared to be not painful. Just a little discomfort, nothing to worry about. While that might be true for lots, it is not full the picture. The patronising assumption that people miss smear tests because they’re self-conscious is harmful. Many people have valid reasons for their reticence. Addressing those issues would be a more effective way of increasing uptake numbers.

Research from Jo’s Cervical Cancer Trust and Rape crisis revealed that 72% of women who have experienced sexual violence have skipped or delayed a smear test. When you consider that at least 1 in 5 women have been sexually assaulted you can begin to understand the scale of the issue.

Birth trauma & pregnancy loss also impact a significant portion of those who require smear tests. Gynae exams & cervical screening require being in vulnerable positions that can trigger a trauma response. Recent research is finding that baby loss & birth trauma often results in PTSD. So, it’s easy to see why a smear test would be not a easy exam for those who are affected.

There are also medical conditions/physicalitys that can make a smear test very difficult. Conditions like ,vaginisimus, endometriosis, cervical ectropion and more can make smear tests painful or difficult. Cervical position, vaginal dryness, menopausal changes and FGM can also impact how a smear test feels.

Trans men may find smear tests hard for all obvious reason. Dysphoria, stigma, discrimination and more. I’m sure everyone can understand how having to deal with any or all of those things is a frightening prospect. It can also be difficult to access information; trans men may not be invited for cervical screening, there is confusion about who requires the test etc. Of course this may be combined with any of the other issues on this list.

This is by no means an exhaustive list. I just want to be clear that there are many real reason for a person to avoid cervical screening. That being said, how can we make it easier? Well, there are actually a lot of accommodations you can ask for. I don’t see this talked about enough, so I wanted to share that information.

Before I get into the details, I want to be clear that you do not have to disclose anything you are not ready to discuss. You can ask for accommodations without revealing your trauma.

Before the Test

You can ask you GP to take your name off the automatic reminder list if those letters are distressing.

Ask for the test to be performed by a person of your preferred gender.

If you have an established relationship with a Dr/Nurse you can ask to have them do your smear test.

Make an appointment to talk about the smear test. Discuss anything you need to talk about. Be that how the test is done, why is it done, your fears, worries etc.

Request a double appointment to allow time breaks, extra time.

Plan what you will do after the test. You may not feel up to returning to work or you might not want to be alone.

The Test

Take an emotional support person to the appointment.

Request a chaperone be present for the test.

Ask to talk through the ‘mechanics’ of the test before you start. Have the Dr/Nurse show you the instruments used.

Tell the person performing the test any words or phrases that could be triggering for you. If there are words of comfort that are helpful for you ask them to use those.

Explain how heavy/light a touch you are comfortable. If there are areas you would like them to avoid touching if possible, tell the Dr/Nurse.

Ask to insert the speculum yourself.

If you are concerned about specific trauma/pain response discuss that with the Dr/Nurse. For example tell them this part of the exam is usually painful for me or I might be unable to chat/answer questions.

Agree a plan of action beforehand; what would you like to happen if you are triggered/pain is too much. You can decide on a word or sign to use if you are in distress.

Combatting Pain/Distress

Mindfulness Techniques – Exercises like naming three things you can see, smell, hear can help route you in the now.

Distraction – Play music, make small talk with Dr/Nurse, your support person.

Squared Breathing – This sometimes helps me get through acute pain/the onset of panic. Breath in for 4, hold for 4, breath out for 4, hold for 4. Repeat.

Take a comforting object. Fidget object. Scent that invokes calming feeling. Hold support person’s hand.

Discuss having medication prescribed. Things like benzodiazepines can help with anxiety, allow your body to be less tense. Maybe you need a stronger pain medication to deal with the test/after effects.

Know Your Limits

It is ok to stop at any point. If any part of the process becomes too much, stop. You can reschedule the appointment. It is ok to try as many times as you need. This test is for you. You are not obligated to fit into anyone else’s timeline or expectations.

Smear test are an important part of early cancer detection, but your whole health & well being are equally important. Shaming people or dismissing the reason for their reluctance does not help. If we are to increase the uptake rates we need to acknowledge what is actually preventing people from attending. We also need to facilitate ways to address those concerns.

If you require more support you can contact :

My Body Back Project

Rape Crisis (Helpline – 08088 01 03 02)

Action For Trans Health

Jo’s Trust

If you enjoy my writing you can support me here or on Patreon.