Life on The Nexplanon

Contraceptives are weird. There are penis sacks and vagina anchors, and pills that builds a wall around the entryway of the twinkle.
I thought I was well informed of the many different types of pill, but I have literally only just discovered there are three types of pill, one of which ‘thickens cervical mucus.’ Doesn’t that sound fun?

When did all of these methods appear? Now there is a ring you can stick up your lady bits and it stays there, chilling and killing sperm.
At school I was only shown the vagina anchor (IUD), the penis sheath (Condom) and the morning after pill.

All of which didn’t appeal to me. I’m far too forgetful for any sort of pill you have to take regularly, and I have a general rule that nothing should be shoved up your va-jay-jay. Especially anything that resembles a corkscrew.

So, I got the implant when I was 18. I still don’t 100% understand what it is that is inside me, but I have the image of one of those electronic air fresheners. But instead of spraying freshener, it sprays hormones in me every morning. Then the hormones float around my body until they find sperm to destroy.

The side effects haven’t been too bad, but they haven’t been non-existent. These are the few that I get:

• Irregular Periods – I did have these anyway, but it has made them worse. I often go without bleeding for a few months, and then spend a whole month on. This side effect is not for the weak.

• Weight gain – Or am I just fat and making excuses?

• Swelling when I’m ‘on.’ – This is a pain in the arse. My jeans go up 2 sizes, which means every month I end up crying because I’m fat.

• Mood Swings – I often get happy but snappy. My boyfriend just throws chocolate at me when I’m like this, so it’s all good.

After being on the implant (Nexplanon) for three years, I decided that I would get it replaced when it expired. But, to do so, I had to get an appointment.

I moved Doctors when I came to university. I used to live in a tiny village, the nearest Doctors was in a small town (population 4000) so getting an appointment was not difficult. The population of where I live now is 71, 722.

Getting a Doctor’s appointment was next to impossible, I rang them at 8am every day for a week before getting one in three weeks’ time.

I also had to go and pick up the implant myself. I told myself before collecting it I wouldn’t look at it. Alas, curiosity got the best of me and within 30 seconds I had opened it. Have you ever seen an implant gun? The needle is a thing of nightmares. I wish I had never looked. Curiosity brutally murdered the cat, and I made the same mistake.

The day came of the appointment (at 8am, the sadistic buggers.) I was still sleepy when I arrived, and I couldn’t even find the surgery room.

Eventually the Doctor came and found me, wandering around like a little lost puppy.
He described what he was going to do (basically cut a hole into my arm and pull the old one out before shooting the new one in.) I tried not to listen for the sake of my sanity.

I lay down on the chair-bed-thing and he dug in. I went in knowing I was going to write this article, and I was going to take pictures. But when it came to it, I couldn’t even look. I pretend to be braver than I am, that’s just a fact about me as a person.

He was trying to talk to me casually and he slit my arm open and stuck tweezers in me. I guess he was trying to distract me, but asking me ‘whether it’s going to snow Christmas day?’ doesn’t make me forget that you are literally inserting a machine into my arm. Nice try, Doc, but I know what you’re doing.

Overall, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I think the idea of getting it put in was a lot worse than the practice.

In conclusion, I wish I was gay.

Side note: Sorry to all those that follow The Jist. This will be my next article up, but with added content! (Basically I’ve done some doodles and diagrams, so that you can all see why I failed GCSE art.)