It should be known that the following blog is entirely different to my previous posts. It is a satirical, honest, and humours approach to sex whilst living with a Chronic Illness. If you are a prude, or just happen to be my Grandmother, I suggest you stop reading.
For the rest of you, please feel free to comment if there is an aspect of sex and Chronic Illness you wish for me to write about (just include in your comment that you do not wish for the comment to be posted).
I intend to write more posts like this, as well as continue with my usual posts. I feel there is so much to be covered, or uncovered, to do with this issue which isn’t discussed often enough.
Here’s an interesting fact for you.
If you type into Google ‘Sex with a’ and let it guess the rest, it will bring up ‘Sex with a dog’ before it brings up ‘Sex with a Chronic Illness’.
What’s that, I hear you gasp?!
She said the S-E-X word.
Chronically Ill young adults don’t have a sex life! We are all sweet and innocent and fluffy, a little like the creatures off Bambi. We know what catheters are, not vibrators. We are naive little balls of sickness who fill this world with love and light, and have no need for sexual interactions, for our purpose is merely to spread the word of enjoying each breath….
Bla. Bla. Bla. What a load of shit.
Doctors are funny creatures. They are more then comfortable to ask us about our bowel movements, stick their cameras where the sun don’t shine and inspect our pee jars with a smile on their face.
‘Ah yes, nice and clear!’
But you mention the S word and suddenly they are deaf, blind, mute and developmentally delayed. It’s quite incredible to watch, really. They develop an instant speech impediment, and stutter and babble their way through words like ‘coital’, which in turn activates my gag reflex. There’s nothing quite like watching a 60 year old professor regress to the mentality of a Fainting Goat. And yes, this is a real breed of goat. I suspect they may have Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, but that’s just me.
Sex, screwing, shagging, love making, the horizontal tango; regardless of what you call it, you don’t need working lungs or a perfect platelet count to have it.
All jokes aside, Chronically Ill adolescents and young adults have some of the highest rates of Sexually Transmitted Infections, compared with their healthy peers. Researches suggest that it’s because we are more prone to taking risks, due to our ‘health status’.
I guess it never occurred to them that maybe if they stopped sticking their heads in the sand box, they would realize their sick patients were sticking their organs into another type of box, in-between Chemo or tune ups.
And maybe, just maybe, if they started to ask ‘Who are you doing?’ instead of ‘How are you doing?’ They might find that they would have a much happier, STI free patient.
That doesn’t mean it’s always easy for us. (Pun intended)
It’s always been my personal opinion that a ‘Grays Kama Sutra’ should have been published as opposed to a ‘Gray’s Anatomy’. I have no doubt that it would feature everything from the best positions for Fibromyalgia patients, to how to make a sexy bag holder for your Ileostomy.
The majority of my friends are Chronically Ill, and the majority of them are also your typical horny, 19, 20, 21 year olds that will try to pash on with anything that has a heart beat (or at least decent saturation levels).
And as much as we would like to pretend that there is one aspect of our lives that our Chronic Illness does not affect, this just isn’t reality. It’s safe to say that each night, we have a threesome. Us, our partner, and the Chronic Illness. Hawt.
One night as a friend and I gossiped, she shouted, exasperated.
‘Just as it was getting good, he stopped, because my breaths were shortening. That’s how it’s supposed to be!!!’
As funny as this may be, such dilemmas can be common place in the sex life of someone with a Chronic Illness. Often a partner, who isn’t ill themselves, is so paranoid about making us sicker, that they are unable to relax, or to try anything new, until you are left shouting at them to do something, and suddenly a casual night of love has turned into a Dominatrix scenario.
In an ideal world, I would enjoy S&M, also known as Sado-Masochism which is the act of enjoying inflicting pain on others, or having pain inflicted upon yourself. Yes, apparently this is enjoyable.
Because my condition causes unrelenting Chronic pain, I am often left feeling jealous of the strange individuals who DO enjoy this. Everyday would surely be orgasmic! I would be living in a permanent state of sexual wonder.
Unfortunately, you can’t just flick a switch and induce this strange phenomenon. So instead, an understanding partner who is able to comprehend that different moans can indeed mean different things, is a complete necessity.
And then there are those who have equipment to worry about. No, I’m not talking about Dildo’s, vibrators or that strange flicking device that I once saw on SBS. I am talking about Ports, Ileostomy’s, Stoma’s, Peg’s and Insulin pumps, to name a few.
Often these wonderful devices that are designed to enhance our quality of life have a tendency of failing us.
You; “I’m so wet”
Partner; “Ahh well why don’t we do something about that…”
You; “No, I mean my Peg is leaking feed”
Totally sexy right?
Of course, there are all sorts of designs on medical websites, aimed at ensuring such interruptions do not occur, granny panty covers for all your extra accessories. Because that’s what we want; Parachutes of Great Granny’s undie material covering our bags and tubes. You may as well cut out the middle man and resign yourself to a life of living with 50 cats now, and start stocking up on Whiskers food.
We are sick, sure. We may have tubes or bags or scars from surgery. Maybe we’re in a wheelchair, or missing a testicle or an arm.
But we would sooner develop the dreaded Prednisolone moon face before we accepted a life of bland, lights off sex.
We find ourselves living in a society where we are content to see billboards of half naked thirteen year olds, yet God forbid someone with a Chronic Illness try to have a healthy and exciting sex life.
Communication and honesty is the only way to buck the trend, to enter a new understanding, to tap into new thoughts and feel about things differently.
So ladies, take off your clothes, and bounce your bag up and down.
Men, increase your oxygen and get ready to take that wheelchair for the ride of it’s life.
Let’s start having some Chronically Amazing sex, one honest blog at a time.