I have bacterial vaginosis. I have syphilis. I am pretty sure I have bird flu, maybe even MRSA. I have every disease I have read about in the last twelve months. Why? Have I been recklessly promiscuous? Begging doctors to treat me with dirty gloves? Spent an extended period of time in Bernard Matthews chicken processing plant? None of the above, unless they took place in a haze of LSD.
This recent bout of hypochondria was inspired by my housemate - The brave bastard teaches sex education to kids. As if explaining the finer points of the erection to under fifteens wasn’t quite heinous enough, he opened the booklet on a page of photographs of STIs. Penises with cauliflower growths on them, pussing shafts, ulcerated lips, warts and a picture of a vagina which had the description of ‘cottage cheese-like discharge’ underneath. I am never eating again. All this would have been of no concern to me had I closed the book in horror, but much like a car crash or any interview with David Beckham (seriously, mate, get elocution lessons) I had to forge ahead in this new area of my education.
I suffer from thrush very occasionally. Yeah, you heard. It’s not embarrassing because almost everyone gets it. Especially those ladies sporting the skinny jeans who have a penchant for the big B (bread, that is) and have lots of sex (HA! who’s laughing now). Everyone has thrush, but in some people it gets aggravated by environmental factors and then BAM, there’s a riot in your pants. Incidentally, while we are discussing thrush – you love it – you can treat it DIY style at home with some natural yogurt, which is messy, or garlic wrapped in gauze, which hurts like HELL. Not full-proof, but much cheaper than the rip-off chemist options. Fact.
Anyway, other than trying to make you feel mildly uncomfortable, there is a reason I am writing this. I flicked through the book to read about thrush and low and behold, I caught sight of descriptions of other vaginal and penile weirdness. Loads of the horrible diseases referenced ‘tiredness’, ‘a general feeling of being unwell’ and ‘irritated genitals’ as symptoms. The vagueness of such symptoms had me self-diagnosing myself with every one of them. My friend likened it to when you are at the doctors and the NHS posters are asking you things like ‘Do you have a foot?’ You nod to yourself, gripped with fear, ‘then you have AIDS!’ it screams. Obviously, they aren’t that extreme, but the posters have convinced me I’m a diabetic with high blood pressure, a little bit pregnant and I definitely need to quit smoking, even though I don’t actually smoke and I find it about as appealing as sucking a car exhaust. And so on.
I am sure there is nothing more irritating to a doctor than the worried well, the net-doctor using screwbags who come in convinced they have bowel cancer when really a dodgy stomach from eating dirty kebabs (they are made with rats and dogs, surely) is the only problem. However, in this age of casual and often drunken sex, you could do well to remember that one in ten women under twenty four have Chlamydia, but don’t actually know about it. It’s worth noting that this is scary shit considering it can make you infertile. I realise you are spending your university years trying hard not to start spawning, or at least, I hope you are, but it is not an exciting prospect. Five out of six cases of Gonorrhoea have no symptoms, although when you know about it…you, uh, know about it. Considering these facts it really is worth getting screened. A boy and I have been together for going on three years now, but not too long ago the doctor thought he might have Chlamydia. This was a complete misdiagnosis, but I went to get screened anyway. Not so pleasant an experience and no lollypop at the end, but I did have the piece of mind that neither of us are infecting each other. You might not be concerned, perhaps you have not slept with many people, but the frightening STI book tells me that by the time you are on your tenth sexual partner you are partaking in the exchange of twelve million peoples’ germs. TWELVE MILLION DIFFERENT GERMS. Pass me the condoms, please.
