The first time I felt pain in a very uncomfortable place, I was frightened at first. I was seventeen and I thought I had unfortunately contracted some kind of sexually transmissible disease. Despite the sex education courses at school and using contraceptive protection, I was convinced that I hadn’t been able to protect myself in spite of fairly moderate sexual activity. And as well as being afraid, I felt very ashamed. How do I talk about this? And, above all, to whom?
I would never have dared to share this with my friends at school. They would have laughed at me for the rest of my life. Confiding in my parents who didn't know that I was sexually active was out of the question. And the sick room at school would certainly have told my parents …
So I skimmed through the health fora and the health sites on the Internet, using searches based on somewhat risky keywords. I discovered a myriad of illnesses which I was totally unaware of and which became more and more frightening. Reading certain sites persuaded me that I was getting cancer or I was at the point of death. Nevertheless, my suffering eased after a couple of days. Because I was young and inexperienced, I thought that the episode was over and that it would become just a bad memory.
Six months later, when I had almost forgotten my misadventure, the nightmare started again. Only the pain was more intense and, this time, I noticed blood in my stools, as well as the appearance of strange masses where they shouldn't have been, to the best of my knowledge.
So I plucked up the courage and I talked to my father about it, in spite of the fact that I was terrified of facing his judgement. At first I struggled to talk to him about my private life and to reassure him that I was taking precautions. I was afraid that he would only think of me as a loose woman, when I had been very careful.
After the most embarrassing discussion of my life, my dad burst out laughing. He told me that he had suffered from haemorrhoid crises for years, and that the symptoms I had described to him were more like that than any intimate illness. He took me to see our GP, who examined me and confirmed his suspicion. The doctor explained that a haemorrhoid crisis is nothing transmissible and it is “only” a dysfunction of the blood circulatory system which causes inflammation of the blood vessels within and surrounding the anus.
In the end, our doctor recommended Micro H Monodoses, which are specially designed for internal and external crises, as well as Micro H Wipes, which clean and soothe while being more suitable for everyday life.
If I was ashamed of my life when I was telling my father about my initial fears, I don’t regret at all having confided my worries. Now I know what the monodoses and the wipes which have the place of honour in his bathroom are for. If you are worried about your health, you never have to be ashamed, and I recommend that all young people who are frightened when they face such an experience talk to their family without delay.