On July 18 of this year, I had to send an email I had hoped I’d never need to.
I get tested for STIs regularly, though sometimes I let more time go by than I should. Historically, my results have always been negative, which makes sense, given my practices and activities. For ten years, every few months I would get pricked and swabbed and sampled, and every time my results came back “negative – within normal limits” for everything.
Well my streak came to an abrupt and unpleasant halt this summer.
Everything south of the border was good to go, but my love of licking finally got to me, and my throat swab came back positive for Ghonorhea.
The usual symptoms are sore throat, burning, swollen glands, etc, but I hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. I wouldn’t have even known if I hadn’t been (over, to be honest) due for testing. Which, by the way, is exactly why we do it regularly instead of waiting for something to happen.
The physical impact, for me, was basically nothing. I popped over to my local planned parenthood, they gave me a single intramuscular dose of antibiotics, and sent me on my way. I went back to my doctor two weeks later for a follow up and I was 100% good to go.
The emotional impact, however, was so, so much worse, and that’s why I’m writing about this publicly.
Because I was overdue on my testing, I had to go back FIVE MONTHS in my calendar and tell every single person I’d met within that time frame that they had possibly been exposed. And because It’s hard for me to resist that specific kind of a good time during even my FBSM appointments, I had to tell everyone everyone.
I can tell you, that’s the hardest email I’ve ever sent. I was embarrassed I’d fallen so badly behind on my testing. I was afraid that people would be angry with me for exposing them. I was chagrined at the fact that others would have to spend time and money (and in some cases miss out on work or appointments with other providers) on a problem I could have maybe prevented. I was committed to doing better. And I was fucking proud of myself for hitting send on that email, snaky hands and all.
To those of my readers who got that email, I cannot stress enough how fucking proud I am of you. The overwhelming response was “Thank you for telling me. I’ve scheduled an appointment to get tested. I’ll let you know what the results are.” Some of you were scared, too. And helpful. And kind. One or two of you were defensive or insecure. All of you did a great job being responsible.
To my first replier, the one who said “I know you don’t need to hear this but you’re doing the right thing”: I really, really did need to hear that. Thank you.
I drew on my close friends for support (shoutout to Tiny Phryne who sat with me via text as I was drafting the email) and felt so much love and reassurance, but it could easily have gone very badly for me. It only takes one pissed off individual to ruin a career in this industry and it would have been entirely understandable to be upset at this kind of news.
But every single person handled themselves well, and everyone who followed up with their results was negative. Every new result reported made me feel better. I was worried I would have been the cause of someone else’s discomfort or embarrassment and I’m so glad that everyone came out unscathed. I was also reassured that, even if someone had popped hot, at least they knew and could stop it in its tracks.
As for where it came from… If anyone turned up positive, they chose not to share that with me. Which is fine. I’m curious, but it wouldn’t have changed anything for me that I wasn’t already changing anyway. I decided to first: be more diligent about sticking to a once per three months testing schedule and second: to up my throat swab schedule to once a month.
Since July, I’ve done exactly that. I have been pleased to get the regular notification from my health care team telling me I’m good to go for another month, and instead of waiting until it’s time and then trying to remember to schedule my next test, I stop by the front desk on my way out and schedule a rematch as close to four weeks out as I can. It works so much better, and helps me hold myself to a professional standard that I more often aspire to than reach.
I’m writing this post, partly because writing is how I process, but partly to normalize testing and sharing your results when you need to. And honestly, partly as marketing. Good marketing is as much about who you don’t appeal to as who you do, and I’d like to invite anyone who is turned off by this post to cherish that. Discomfort is a sign from your body that you’re not ready, and listening to those signs is exceedingly wise.
Thank you my friends for being such incredible people. For taking it in stride, for seeking knowledge, for being kind, and for trusting me. I am honored to be worthy of that trust and I look forward to many more years of good health.