Miss Diagnosed

A Blog About Maxi Pads

So, if you are in any way uncomfortable with menstruation, tampons, maxi pads, or any other perfectly natural function of or accessory to the female body, stop reading now.  I gave you fair warning.

Now.  Every month I have the same inner dialogue wherein I debate whether this is the month I start using the (poorly named, in my opinion) Diva Cup (there are other variations on this product—The Keeper and The Moon Cup, for instance).  And every month I decide that I will try it another time.  This makes me feel like a bad feminist and environmentalist, but each woman must make the choice regarding how to handle her monthly flow based on her own values, financial situation, comfort concerns, and convenience, among other factors.

Convenience and comfort seem to win out for me every month.  I am not really a tampon user, because I am a light-flow kind of gal who’s slightly concerned about toxic shock syndrome and very concerned about the chemicals applied to the cotton in most tampons.  When I do choose to use tampons, I spring for NatraCare certified organic cotton ones.  But let’s face it—they are expensive!  (NatraCare also makes pads which are similarly costly.)  That leaves me with a few options: Glad Rags, sea sponges, or maxi pads.  I have not yet tried sea sponges, so I cannot comment on their comfort or effectiveness.  (Please let me know what you think if you’ve tried them.)  Glad Rags gross me out.  So, maxi pads it is.

Like I said, organic cotton maxi pads are available at a high cost, but I usually end up with a mainstream brand such as Kotex (my go-to brand), Always, or Stayfree.  My beef with the current selection (and it is a large selection) of pads is that most of them have wings.  I hate wings.  I hate them I hate them I hate them.  Yet I continue to try new brands with wings because they are on sale, or I mistakenly think that maybe this time they got the wings right.  What’s wrong with wings?  The annoying little appendages stick to the side of my leg, they stick to themselves, they stick to the wrong part of my panties.  I want a regular maxi that is a little longer than average.  Not too thin and not too thick. Not scented.  No extra dyes.

I am not going to say, “It must be men designing these things,” because I believe several companies have tried to give women better products.  And hell, maybe everyone else loves wings and I am the lone wing-hater.  This week I tried yet another new maxi pad.  Always recently introduced a new pad called Infinity that almost gets it right, except for the freakin’ wings!!  Infinity has very amusing website, too, complete with music and “magic”!

The good:

• Infinity is contoured to be narrower near the front of the panty and wider near the back.  Excellent call, Always.
• Good absorbency.
• Soft and comfortable cotton.
• Great packaging.  I am a sucker for packaging.

The bad:

• The wings!  While they claim a “revolutionary wing design for secure protection”, there ain’t nothin’ revolutionary about them.  Same old sticky, clumsy wings.  Chop off the wings and add an extra inch of length and some organic cotton and this would be the perfect maxi.

After using Infinity for two days, I got frustrated by the wings and returned to my old standby, regular Kotex Maxi.  Kotex has always been the maxi manufacturer that forewent the bells and whistles.  My mother uses Kotex, and probably so did her mother.  So I was astonished when I opened my maxi today and saw all these new blue lines, like arrows to direct the menstrual flow to the preferred central area of the pad.  In the past, this product has been just plain white.  No doubt it was dyed that way with some nasty chemical or other, but it was no-frills.  What purpose do these ridiculous blue lines serve?!

Maybe next month I’ll get the damned Diva Cup.

Jivamukti!

On Monday, I attended a workshop at Carrboro Yoga Company (CYCo.) with master yoga teacher and co-founder of Jivamukti Yoga, Sharon Gannon.  I’ve long been attracted to the Jivamukti style because of its emphasis on the transformative power of sound (chanting, kirtan) and the importance of ethical living (vegetarianism, political awareness and engagement) in addition to the traditional focus of yoga as practiced in America, which is asana (postures, the physical part of the practice).

The beautiful new addition to CYCo provided the most welcoming and intimate space for the workshop.  Allison Dennis, a Jivamukti teacher here in Carrboro, beautifully demonstrated all the postures in the sequence.  Sharon began the workshop by bowing to each and every one of the 70 or more students in the room.  Then, we chanted, accompanied by a beautiful harmonium.  The energy was overwhelming—I nearly cried.  Several rounds of surya namaskar (sun salutations) followed, accompanied by Sharon’s expert instruction on moving with the breath and letting one movement transition seamlessly into the next.  Throughout the asana practice, she wove in gems of yoga philosophy, as any great teacher does.  Something she said at the beginning of class really stuck with me, and has given me some fodder for self-study:  “How do you know that you have made progress in your yoga practice,” she asked.  I was thinking the answer might be something along the lines of accepting the highs and lows of life more easily.  The answer (somewhat paraphrased) was, “Your voice.  You say what you mean and mean what you say.  You can modulate the tone of your voice.  You can control your voice.”  The more I think about this, the more true it rings.  How many times have I raised my voice without intending to do so?  How many times have I said things I don’t really mean?  How often have I failed to say what I needed or wanted, from a place of sincerity rather than frustration?  I would have paid for the workshop to gain that insight alone.

Although I enjoyed the Jivamukti workshop immensely and plan on exploring that style of yoga further, I have become a bit wary of “brands” of yoga for a few reasons.  These styles tend to have higher class costs (especially for teacher trainings—Jivamukti’s costs more than $6,000!), an air of exclusivity or snobbery by some practitioners (I have noticed this at a number of Anusara workshops), and imply that their style is superior to other styles (I was at a workshop with John Friend, the founder of Anusara Yoga, in Houston where he stated that no style of yoga is superior to any other, but ask the average Anusara devotee what they think).  I studied Anusara Yoga almost exclusively for two years, and still ocassionally take an Anusara class.  Anusara is very different from Jivamukti in some ways, but they share an emphasis on going beyond asana in your practice.  I can’t imagine an Anusara teacher telling a student that the only ethical diet is a vegetarian one, however.  Anusara focuses greatly on physical alignment in the postures, whereas Jivamukti encourages a playfulness and flexibility within them.  Both approaches are necessary and correct, in my view.  One must find a balance.

spring cleansing...

OK.  So a lot has been going on in my life.  The cleansing thing is on hold for now.

To Cleanse or Not to Cleanse...

Rhonda, my good friend and acupuncturist, recently invited me to join her on the Master Cleanse—a fasting regimen created in 1941 by Stanley Burroughs and recently re-popularized by author Peter Glickman and a number of celebrities.  The program consists of abstaining from solid foods for ten to forty days, during which time one drinks 60 ounces daily of a beverage consisting of organic lemon juice, organic grade B maple syrup, a bit of cayenne, and a lot of water.  A laxative tea and a sea salt and water mixture may also be ingested to help relieve the body of toxins.  The full description of the regimen as it was originally written is available here. 

Earlier today, I updated my Facebook status: “Nicole Lillian Mark is psyching herself up to start the Master Cleanse on Friday. Luckily, I enjoy lemonade.”  I didn’t expect much in the way of commentary, but was pleasantly surprised that a dialogue broke out.  My friend Jack expressed concern about the safety of the program, and asked if I had consulted my doctor (in his view, if I do not misunderstand him, acupuncture is a pseudoscience at best).  My friends Brandon and Charna had both tried the program before and offered support and encouragement.  My friend Missy (whom I miss terribly and have not seen in forever) made a couple of jokes about going on a “cheeseburger cleanse.”  I’m grateful for the comments, because they made me consider more thoughtfully and mindfully what I am trying to accomplish, how people perceive fasting, and why it is so controversial. 

I am planning a ten-day fast, followed by a return to a mostly vegan diet.  Last year, I treated my body pretty poorly.  Before I moved to North Carolina last April, I was having way too much “fun” in Baltimore (read: drinking).  Additionally, I had begun eating more processed and fried foods than ever before (damn you Brewer’s Art rosemary-garlic fries!).  I had been a vegetarian for fourteen years and started eating meat again.  I don’t regret that, because it was a lesson in being less rigid with myself and listening to my body more.  At first, I was only eating meat when I felt my body needed it.  Later, it just became a habit.  That brings me to my main intention for doing the Master Cleanse: a return to mindful eating and to the practice of hearing what my body needs, rather than shoveling in whatever’s tasty.  Later this month, I am attending a workshop with Jivamukti Yoga co-founder Sharon Gannon.  She recently authored a book, “Yoga and Vegetarianism,” which I have been reading in preparation for the workshop.  Her insights remind me why I used to be a vegetarian, and why that lifestyle is so closely aligned with my true values (which I easily forget in the presence of a Ketel One martini or an Angus beef burger). 

Jack pointed out that a number of his colleagues had become ill on Master Cleanse-like regimens, probably because they were trying to lose weight and were not listening to their bodies’ internal cues that something was wrong.  I think the difference between their experiences and (hopefully) mine is intention.  Don’t get me wrong: I wouldn’t mind dropping the North Carolina Nine (Southern food is delicious, but it sure ain’t healthy), but if that happens it will just be a side effect. 

In case you’re curious about how it goes, I’m going to blog about it, so stay tuned.