Let’s Talk About Birth Control….Please

And while we’re at it let’s also talk about pregnancy termination. I’d like to address a few myths that are being tossed about in the webbernets by people who generally do not understand:

a) birth control methods and how they work
b) women’s bodies
c) US HR policies

birth-control-pills

 

Quote:  “Why are women depending on their employer to pay for THEIR birth control?”
Answer:  They aren’t. When a person gets a job with a company they accept it contingent on their compensation package. Pay is a factor, paid leave is a factor, and paid insurance is a factor as are some other benefits. The benefits are something that are a part of their compensation. Some companies pay more in cash salary and less in insurance. Some give bigger compensation benefits and less in cash benefits. Each person decides whether they want a job depending on how the benefits will fit into their lifestyle. In my family insurance coverage is a huge factor. We would never accept a job without exceptional insurance coverage. If it is lacking in any area it is a no go for us. We may even accept a lower pay than we wanted for better insurance package. The company is not “giving” it to us. They offered it as part of the pay or compensation. It isn’t a gift. It is well earned.

Quote:  Anyone can simply BUY birth control at their neighborhood corner store. Why does anyone else have to pay for it?”
Answer:  Condoms have an 18% failure rate. EIGHTEEN PERCENT! I wouldn’t want to take that risk, as a rational thinking, informed woman or man in this day and age.

Quote:  “Birth control pills and IUDs are abortives.”
Answer:  Wrong. IUD’s work like this: ~Copper IUDs may prevent sperm from being able to go into the egg by immobilizing the sperm on the way to the fallopian tubes. If the sperm doesn’t permeate the egg there is no conception. ~With hormonal IUDs, a small amount of progestin, a hormone similar to the natural hormone progesterone, is released into the uterine lining. This hormone thickens cervical mucus and make it difficult for sperm to enter the cervix. If the sperm cannot enter the cervix it cannot permeate the egg, thereby preventing conception. Birth Control Pills, Patches, Injections and slow release systems work like this: ~They prevent ovulation. If there is no egg there can be no conception. They also help regulate menstrual periods in women whose periods have stopped because of trauma or those whose periods are far too long or heavy. They help with endometriosis and fibroids. And some types are helpful with ovarian cysts, thereby preventing surgery. These are also used in treatment of endometrial cancer, perimenopause and polycystic ovarian syndrome.

Ella & Plan B works like this: PREVENTS ovulation & conception. They do not cause abortion. Without ovulation there is no egg to be permeated by the sperm, thereby no conception can occur.

 RU486 or Mifeprex or Mifepristone/Misoprostol works like this:

This drug is a true abortifacient. It causes a termination of pregnancy after taking it because it is a progesterone receptor antagonist which means it interferes with a body’s ability to make progesterone. Progesterone is needed to sustain a pregnancy.

But did you also know that RU486/Mifepristone (AKA the Medicinal Abortion or Morning After Pill) is also used in life saving treatments such as?:

Treatment of :
gastric ulcers

cervical ripening in labor
labor inducing for full term pregnancies
managing post postpartum hemorrhage
managing unintended early pregnancy loss
fibroid uterine tumor treatment
treatment of HIV infection
leiomyoma treatment
treatment for major depression with psychosis
treating bi-polar depression and disorders causing cognitive disfunction
treatment for post tramatic stress disorder
ovarian cancer treatment
glaucoma treatment
prostate cancer treatment

endometriosis treatment
advanced breast cancer treatment
meningioma (brain tumor) treatment  

Menigioma (brain tumor) treatment is especially important to me as I have connected with many women over the years who have survived their meningiomas ONLY because of this medication. I am lucky. So far I do not need it for my brain tumor. But maybe one day I will. And if that day comes I want to make sure this drug is still available in my state. 

Quote:  “I am enjoying watching women’s heads explode over this Hobby Lobby SCOTUS ruling.” Answer:   Are you? Are you really? If this is you you should read your statement over and think about that for a minute. Women in this country have fought very hard for the right to vote. And for the right to own property, for the right to use birth control, for the right to terminate a pregnancy if she has to and for the right for equal pay. Yes, we’re upset. Women’s health care rights are diappearing before our eyes in the year 2014, not 1914. This makes me angry. It motivates me to activism, to call and write letters to my congressman. It motivates me to let certain retail stores I will not be shopping at their stores anymore. It motivates me to give to campaigns & causes. It motivates me to join a movement with other women voters to make sure we are well heard by Washington, corporate interests and the media.

Do you know that it was 1972 before women could make their own birth control choices without the consent of anyone else? Seriously, Nineteen-Seventy-Fricken-Two. I was 12 years old then. Even at twelve years old I was shocked. Who was anyone else to tell my mother how to take care of her body? I was outraged. Still am, I suppose. Obviously. And do you know that if a rape victim becomes pregnant as a result of her rape she is required to SHARE custody with her attacker in 35 states in our nation? Yes. Thirty Five states. Here are the stats. There are 32, 101 pregnancies that result from rape each year. Oh, did we think it hardly ever happened? Think again.

Imagine being horribly traumatized, beaten, bleeding, suffering from PTSD and then told you are pregnant, but if you have this baby you may have to GIVE . THIS . INNOCENT . CHILD to your attacker every other weekend for the rest of her 18 years. And you will have face to face contact with this monster forever…..alone…while exchanging the child. Now think about THAT for a minute. Who could blame a young woman or girl faced with this situation, who chooses to take a pill ensuring she does not ovulate over the next week, over a lifetime of potential attacks and trauma? Not me. I would not make that choice for her. That would be her choice between her, her mental health caretaker and her doctor. What ever choice she makes I will say one thing to her. I am so so sorry this happened to you. How can I help you? That’s it.

 But there’s a fix for this scenario, you know. Birth control. Yes, birth control. Birth control that may be a part of an employee compensation package (yes that). If it’s not there is always Planned Parenthood who provides birth control pills, condoms, IUDs and RU486 for free to those who cannot afford them. If she has endometriosis or fibroids or breast cancer, PTSD from her rape or a brain tumor, yes, she can have birth control as treatment for those, too.

Anyone who thinks this is a funny subject or that finds it amusing that women should not have equal rights to choose their own birth control or health care choices has a serious problem. And they have not thought through the ramifications of what happens to the children who are borne to rape victims and their attackers. They do not understand the cycles of poverty and how it promotes domestic violence, crime and victimhood. And they certainly do not understand how easily this could all be prevented. 

Is this still funny?

To me this is not just politics. This is not simply activism. This is very personal. Through suicide prevention, crisis counseling and prison volunteer work I have counseled many women who have lived through all of these scenarios listed. I have attended the tragic, sad and mournful termination of a late pregnancy of sweet twins who were dearly wanted and sadly grieved. In my teen years I have held my breath while waiting with my friend to get her period every month because her step-father was raping her night after night, but would not allow her birth control. Yes, that happened. Who knew? Me and her. Was there birth control available to help her then? Yes, but you needed a parent to consent. How about that irony? Until you understand the complex scenarios of how difficult these horrible choices can happen you should really think about it. Think hard. Way outside the box you have lived in. Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. Someone desperate, victimized, someone with limited choices and limited income.  

And think about why this is amusing to you.

Because if it still is you have much bigger problems than not understanding birth control.

 

 

 

<a href=”http://www.hypersmash.com/hostgator/&#8221; id=”RS794″>click here</a>

Death of a Salesman

I get a huge number of sales calls every day. I am brutal on bad salespeople because I have worked very hard  to develop a good set of sales skills. No exceptions. First know your customer. Be likable and hospitable. And believe in your product because if you don’t know one else will. I have very little time for  bad sales calls and even less time for rudeness.

Sometimes the seller is meek and insecure, almost as if THEY don’t even believe in what they are selling. Often I get sales people who like to tell me they have looked over my website and Google rankings and BOY do we need help such as being listed specifically with the key word “BOUTIQUE”. That way even our name, Simple BOUTIQUES would show right up in a Google search. Unfortunately, for those types I inform them that the better sales people are actually familiar with the clientele they are selling to before they waste their time. “Next time,” I say, “try actually knowing what my business name and search engine ranking IS before you make a fool of yourself.”

Today was the sales call of all calls. It was a man on the other  end with a very heavy German accent. He told me he worked for “Veindoes” and they are seeing that my “Veindoes” is not “vohkink”. “Excuse me? WHO are you working for?” I ask.

“ VEINDOES! V.E.I.N.D.U.H.S!!! veindoesVEINDOES! (unspoken was you IDIOT!). SOFTWARE! “ he yells into the phone.

“Ooooh….WINDOWS. You work for Windows, do you?” I ask, incredulously.   “YES!” he yells.

“Okay then. And what is it you want?” I ask.

“Yah, Yur Veindoes does not vorkink and so you haff virus.”

I cannot believe this guy!, “I see. And what is it you want to do?”

“Ve vant to help you get Veindoes vorkink and get rid virus and….”

“Excuse me. You work for WINDOWS?” I ask, giving him a chance to be honest.

“YES!!!!”  (he’s yelling, screaming actually. I can hear him grinding his teeth)

“You do not work for anyone else?” I ask, (unspoken is Hmmm, don’t you work for Microsoft?).

“Yah. VEINDOES! Ve can see in your computer that you haff virus and problems. Ve vill help you .

“Oh really? You can see in my computer? So WHICH one is it?” I dare him.

Monotone: Computer. He says, like a robot.

“Which one?,” I ask.

Nothing.

“I mean if you can see into my computer surely you can tell me the name of the computer (this is now a game for me).” teehee

He screams now, SOFTVARE!!! SOFTVARE!!! Ve do not do HAHDVARE, JUST SOFTVARE!!! V.E.I.N.D.O.E.S!!!!!

I tell you what. My IT guy is not here right now and I don’t deal with any of this. Why don’t you give me your number and I will have him call you back, eh?

“Okay,” he says quietly. 877-660-8865  Eight eight six five?, I ask?

“NOOOOO! Eight eight FIVE SIX!!!,” him, screaming again.

I see. 877-660-8856?

“NO! NO!!! You must listen! SIX-OH-SIXXXXXX!!!!!!!-Eight eight SIX FIVE!!!”

Okay. Got it. (I am laughing so hard now). And what is your name?

Monotone, quiet: Mike. 

“And where are you working from….(teehee)…….. Mike?”

Monotone: “Texas,” again with the robot talk.

I about fell off my chair.

Texas? TEXAS?!!! I ask laughing? Because I know Texans and they would put up with his screaming for about two seconds. Hahahahaha!!! Now I don’t even care that he hears me laughing.

Here’s the thing “Mike” from “Texas” German men do not get to yell at people and demand they do what they say anymore. Not since the holocaust. Click.

OMG. That was one for the books.

Invisible Kathy

She was very thin with unkempt golden blonde hair perpetually hanging over her azure eyes, a polite, but empty smile on her face.

I sat across the four top desk on our second grade classroom in Central Florida, from Kathy.  Her little shift dresses sleeveless were threadbare and hung off her tiny little frame, with one shoulder always exposed, or the other. It was a middle class community in which most parents had a good income and a retirement for later. These were the years of the mixed signals in my life. On the one hand we watched wholesome television shows such as Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, The Wonderful World of Disney and of course the ever dreaded Lawrence Welk show featuring Sissy and Bobby.

On the other hand social uprising was happening everywhere. In just a few years I would be bussed into a run down African-American neighborhood for the purpose of desegregation. Women were insisting on equal rights in the boardroom AND the bedroom. It was a tough time to be a kid, but nobody had it tougher than Kathy.

She sat, everyday with a blank stare, smiling as if it was always required of her to put on a happy face. I watched a lot. She was an enigma. You see I had begun to realise that the popular girls were the slim, blond haired, blue eyed girls. The ones who knew all the social graces and didn’t seem to have trouble such as falling off the slide, missing the tether ball or forgetting to touch first base as they ran past. And Kathy was a slim blond, blue eyed pretty girl. But somehow she wasn’t popular. It puzzled me. She was very, very nice to everyone in our class. Extremely introverted and soft-spoken, petite, demure. Pretty much all the things a young woman of the sixties was supposed to be. But something…..something was not right. Nobody talked to Kathy. No one played with her. No one even really saw her. She seemed to be the invisible girl.

Kathy was an anxious little thing. Like a fragile little bird that didn’t know how to fly yet but was pushed out of the nest. Every time she was called on she stuttered and stammered; she froze. Her answer would not come even though she knew it. She just couldn’t handle being the center of attention. The teachers would become annoyed with her because they knew she was capable of answering, too. So they just stopped calling on her.

Invisible. Sometimes she was there, sometimes not. But even if she was there she seemed like she wasn’t.

The day came when she didn’t come to school. That horrible, gut wrenching day. Our teachers were crying, but pretending not to. They opened the partitions between the two second grade classrooms so as to have one large class to give us a serious lesson that day. They said this was the day to all be together. In my little child’s mind I had a horrible feeling of dread. I wondered if they had dropped the bomb after all. And if so why weren’t we crouched under our desks? Was it too late? I began to feel panic.

My teacher began talking about Kathy and how she wasn’t coming back.

I thought, “Who cares?!!! Just get to the bomb! What were we supposed to do?”

Then they said all three of Kathy’s sisters were also not coming back to school. The two teachers looked at each other with raw horror and grief. The look was “who’s going to say it?” It was completely unsettling to see our teachers out of control like this.

There was a long pause. Finally my teacher said that Kathy’s mother had put them all in the garage and turned on the car. That all four sisters had died, along with the mother. All of the golden blond, blue eyed, fragile girl children had floated to heaven.  Then she said the word that I had never heard but would also never forget. “Suicide.”

I don’t really remember what they said after that because I was stunned and grieved. And ashamed. Even at that young age I knew what I still believe now which is that we ARE our brother’s keeper. Why had I not become her friend? Maybe there was a clue. Even if there was nothing I could do there was no excuse for sitting across the desk from someone for months and never getting to know them. Had I done that at least she would have left this earth knowing she had a friend.

The school grieved. All of the teachers, the administration and the children. The children grieved and wondered and walked around questioning who else’s mother would kill them. What had started as a safe world now suddenly looked very treacherous. Our feeling of safety had been shattered. The shards piercing into our hearts and killing something in us, too. We would never get over it.

If I thought I might grow past it, maybe develop a little callous in my heart for survival sake I was wrong because a little later in life a dear friend’s mother lost her mind one night and killed her son. I was in my late teens at that time. It was a shock, yes. Especially since I had spent many a night at their home with that mom who was so very loving and kind. But it was not that great a shock because I already knew what people are capable of. And with severe mental illness there are no guarantees.

Where ever we go in life there is always a Kathy. Oh, it may be difficult to notice her. Or to see her. Or to talk to her. But she’ll be there. Will you find her?

 

 

 

<a href=”http://www.hypersmash.com/hostgator/&#8221; id=”RS794″>click here</a>

So…..Why?

You know how people often have an agenda when writing a comment or blog post? You get the hard sell. You know what I mean.

~the churchy, come to Jesus sell
~the lifestyle sell
~the guilt sell
~the buy my stuff sell
~the support my cause sell
~the Oh no you didn’t! sell
~the misery loves company sell
~the he/she did me wrong (and I never did NUTHIN’ to deserve it) sell

Well, there’s no sell here. Yes, I sell a product in my real life. Yes, I have my religion. Yes, I have a few causes I am very passionate about. Yes, he DID do me wrong! lol But this blog isn’t for the purpose of any of those things. I enjoy writing for me. If something I feel passionately about shows up here maybe you will feel it, too. Or you won’t. But I’m not here to sell it. I’m too old to worry much about what anyone thinks of my choices in life.

Writing for the joy of writing has always been an outlet for me. For many years I kept my writings bound up in secret little books, year by year after year. Hidden away in some secret place between longline bras and scarves. I was afraid the writings would reveal too much of me. Then I decided to go on a quest for true authenticity. What an utter failure THAT was! What I found out is not everyone has earned the right to know your secrets. You get to choose based on how people have treated you and on how trustworthy they have been in the past.

Now I share what I feel comfortable with and what is beneficial to my mental health. That’s it.
If you come along on this ride maybe you will get to know me better and maybe you will see something in me that you know in yourself.

bright futures

If you’re reading introduce yourself. I’d like to know you, too.

<a href=”http://www.hypersmash.com/hostgator/&#8221; id=”RS794″>click here</a>

I’m back.

us with Bella

Since last I blogged I have opened a new business, lost three sled dogs to cancer and old age, rescued two more and had beautiful twin grandsons born to my daughter and her husband. So much has happened with barely a moment to breathe in between. Now I am back. It is my I hope for this blog to take me where my life does, as always with an introspective view, since that is the way we achieve spiritual, emotional and mental growth.

I’m ready. Who’s with me?