a rather disgusting confession

So I have this theory; there are some things everyone just assumes you know. That through some cultural osmosis we all glean an infinite amount of knowledge.

And I don't mean nebulous things like how to comfort the bereaved or how to tell if someone's laughter is from euphoria or desperation. Small things, simple things. Which I guess is why they are so easily the unmentioned.

My best example of this was vaccuuming as a child. My mom would yell and yell and yell at me for vaccuuming badly as a kid. That I didn't bother, that I wasn't paying attention, that I should try harder. But I wasn't being negligent, I just didn't understand. I saw her vaccuum, we both assumed I knew how to do it. But i thought it meant push the big loud machine around over every inch of the carpet. I didn't realise it meant make sure the carpet was clean. (kids never think to ask the all important why until it's apparent whatever it was didn't get done.)

Well, anyway, it's happened again.

In all my illness, and all my rage at being in pain, unfixed and feeling desperately alone in my misunderstood body and raging hormones, I've begun doing some very minor research. Looking at options, cataloging symptoms. And I spent a good chunk of time this morning on webMD with their oustanding gynocological 'symptom checker'.

Sample:
Do you have abdominal pain? (click yes button if yes), and so on.

Well, it turns out I didn't know I have constantly, for as long as I can remember, always always always had a yeast infection. In fact, pretty much if I am not bleeding, I am growing a kins-creature of mushrooms in my nether regions.

Somewhere in 7th grade I was told (probably in an awkward car conversation with my mom) every woman's body goes in cycles and your discharge and everything changes, you just have to get used to your own pattern.

I assumed the fact it's weird and icky, and kind of hurts for the two weeks between periods was just kind of how it went. Itchy and dry was the opposite of wet anyway, which made sense I guess. (In hindsight, I could perhaps have reexamined this theory somewhere after 13, instead of taking it as law, which is a different semi-fatal flaw for another time.)

But jesus, how did no one ever tell me? How could I not have known this? How did no one in charge ever check? How have the doctors never asked if I had a propensity to these things?

Nonetheless, it is yet another piece in the weird, hormonal puzzle of my existence which I am taking great comfort in. Is that twisted or what?