chronic pain

My 11 Must-Haves For Chronic Pain

Kate Sloan

Y’all, it has been a tough month for me with regards to my chronic pain. I’ve spent so many days in bed, asked so many people to help me with basic tasks because my sore body couldn’t accomplish them, cried a few times when painkillers just weren’t cutting it… This shit really sucks sometimes.

But on the plus side, there’s always something I can do to alleviate my symptoms at least a little. Here are some of the products I use on a day-to-day basis that make life with chronic pain more bearable…

A lap desk. Mine is from IKEA but I gather that there are better ones out there. It’s not strictly ergonomic to use a computer in bed – which presents its own host of potential problems in terms of pain – but sometimes, it’s all I can manage. This neat little innovation keeps my computer from overheating on the duvet and creates a sturdy surface that allows for easier typing when I’m too achy to sit at my desk.

An eye mask. I have one from Mad Toto which I like because it has a spiral on each eye (hypnokinksters take note!). Sleep is an important part of my pain management, and since I live in an apartment with gloriously bright wall-to-wall windows, I have to wear an eye mask if I want some quality shut-eye. (More recommendations here.)

A weed vape. It’s funny: in high school I was staunchly anti-drugs, but now, in adulthood, I’ve found that cannabis is one of the only things which can tame both my physical pain and my mental health symptoms. It doesn’t always work, but it sure helps. My current fave thing is the AirVape X, a slick, bright blue vaporizer that comes highly recommended and feels like what would happen if Apple made a vape.

The Notes app. It’s built into iOS and has most of the functions I could want from a note-taking app. I like this one for writing when my body is too sore to use a computer; it syncs to all my various devices so I can later transfer the completed writing wherever it needs to go. (I’ve also been using the Scrivener iOS app sometimes lately because that’s what I’m writing my book in, and it syncs from my computer using Dropbox.)

A heating pad. Mine is an extremely basic microwaveable one I picked up from Shoppers Drug Mart for about $20, but it works a treat. This is sometimes the only thing that can calm down my sore, stiff muscles.

Modal lounge pants. I have several pairs of these now, from Gap and MeUndies, and they’re soooo gooood. During a pain flare-up, it’s important that I have clothes which are comfortable, non-restrictive, and easy to get in and out of, and these totally fit the bill.

Slip dresses (like this). Same deal: these are super comfy for lounging around the house. They’re also, depending on the fabric and the cut, potentially presentable enough to wear outside, particularly if I throw on some leggings underneath and a cardigan on top – always a plus when I barely want to move, let alone change my whole outfit.

Voice recognition software, like Siri on the iPhone. When my pain is really bad, sometimes telling Siri to do my bidding is the best I can manage. With her help, I can write texts, do Google searches, check the weather, etc. without even needing to pick up my phone.

Bath products. Taking a hot bath is one of the most helpful things I can do for my pain. I like Lush bath bombs the most; Epsom salts are also great, especially ones containing essential oils like peppermint and eucalyptus, and now some companies are even making CBD-infused bath products for an extra hit of relaxation.

Lipstick. Silly and frivolous? Yes. Fun and therapeutic? Also yes. Lipstick is (for me, anyway) the easiest cosmetic to apply, so even when I can’t manage eyeliner or foundation, I can still put on a day-brightening coat of lip color and feel cute. Underrated and important!

A vibrator. Okay, as you probably know, I have several. The most helpful one for my chronic pain is the Magic Wand Rechargeable: it’s a stellar muscle massager, and can also readily induce orgasms that ease my symptoms with endorphins. Plus it’s relatively easy to hold even when I’m having a flare-up, unlike heavier wands like the Doxy Die Cast.

 

I asked my fellow chronic pain-afflicted Twitter followers what products they find helpful, and some common recommendations were:

  • A TENS unit. These use pulses of electricity to soothe muscle pain and tension.
  • Electric heating pads and hot water bottles. Basic but useful as hell.
  • Wrist braces, elbow braces, compression gloves, etc. I don’t know quite how well these would work for my particular types of pain but am curious to try!
  • Soothing topicals, including Biofreeze, Tiger Balm, arnica cream, and THC- or CBD-infused coconut oil.
  • Lots of pillows, including firm positioning aids like the Liberator Jaz, for maximizing comfort and propping up sore knees.
  • Ear plugs, for improving sleep quality.
  • A foam roller, for massaging muscles.
  • Ergonomic keyboards, mouses, and desks (especially standing desks) for an easier time at the computer.
  • Food that requires very little prep, like fruits, microwaveable meals, ramen, and oatmeal packets. More suggestions here.

Do you have any favorite products when pain comes a-knockin’?

5 Useful Insights on Chronic Pain and BDSM

Kate Sloan

I’ve been living with chronic joint pain for about 4 years now – so, roughly as long as I’ve identified as kinky. I wonder often if there’s a correlation there…

Different doctors in different areas of medicine have variously diagnosed me with patellofemoral syndrome, gout, the ever-vague “depression-related pain,” and (newest and so far unconfirmed) fibromyalgia. Whatever my mysterious pain stems from, it seems to be here to stay, and I have to figure out how to live with it. That includes finding ways to keep it from hindering my sex life.

I’ve been doing lots of reading lately on the intersections of chronic pain and BDSM – most notably Raven Kaldera’s excellent anthology Kneeling in Spirit, which is about submissives with disabilities. Between that book, Ignixia’s workshop on pain and kink at last year’s Woodhull Sexual Freedom Summit, and my own firsthand experiences, I’ve pulled together this list of insights you might find useful if you’re a kinkster who suffers from chronic pain, or if you play with people who do.

A pain scale is an invaluable communication tool.

I often advocate a 1-to-10 pain scale for use during any sadomasochistic scene, because it makes it easy for the bottom to communicate how much pain they’re currently feeling and/or how much pain they’d like to be feeling. But this scale isn’t just for paddle smacks and nipple pinches – you can use it to quantify your regular ol’ chronic pain, too.

I can say, for example, that my elbows are at a 5 right now, while my hands and ankles are at a 3 – and this might affect what my dominant chooses to have me do. If a particular activity mid-scene causes a sudden flare-up, it’s easier for me to spit out “My knees are at an 8” than it would be to construct a request for mercy in my subspacey haze.

As kinksters, we already have language for discussing and measuring pain; we might as well use it in positive ways outside of the dungeon, too.

Some chronic pain can be eroticized.

Please don’t assume this is true of everyone, or every type of pain – I know people who developed chronic conditions and immediately gave up all sadomasochistic activities, because they were experiencing enough discomfort in their regular lives and didn’t want to bring it into their sex lives, too, if they could help it. But for me, some of my joint pain can be made into a sexy thing if my partner and I recontextualize it together.

For example, while it’s agonizing for me to kneel for more than a few minutes due to my shitty knees, I can often get through it if I know my dominant wants me to and I would please him by sticking it out. I’ve knelt for long periods during human furniture scenes, bootblacking scenes, and oral service scenes, and while I can’t sustain that position for as long as a spryer submissive could, I’m able to enjoy my pain more when I feel like it has a purpose (i.e. making my partner happy).

Along similar lines, being taken care of when my pain is especially bad can be sexy in and of itself for me, because I’m into nurturing D/s dynamics. There are lots of ways to reframe pain into a hotter thing than it is on its own.

Communication protocols can set both partners at ease.

The dominants in Kneeling in Spirit emphasize again and again that they need their submissives to be honest with them about their bodies’ current status. This is difficult for me in more vanilla relationships – I feel like I am whining or bumming my partner out – but in D/s, it can be redefined as a mandated part of your dynamic. A dominant can, for example, require their submissive to text them a report on their current pain levels at the start or end of every day, or can choose a particular word or phrase that means, “Tell me how your body feels right now.” A couple could agree on an emoji code (e.g. black dot for “okay,” red dot for “bad,” double exclamation points for “too bad to do kink tonight”) or could share an online calendar where the submissive has to record certain health information daily. You get the idea.

If you’re a submissive and you have trouble communicating this stuff without feeling guilty or whiny, just remember that part of how you serve your dominant is by taking care of the things they love – and that includes you. Keep in mind Mollena Williams-Haas’ “prime directive” for submissives: “It is the primary responsibility of the slave to protect the master’s property at all times, up to and including protecting the property from their master.”

A variety of pain produces a better endorphin rush.

That is to say: if someone already has an achy back, maybe flogging their back isn’t the best way to go. Or, if their pain manifests as surface-level skin irritation, maybe they don’t want to be scratched or slapped, but would instead prefer a deeper, thuddier sensation.

When a body gets accustomed to a certain type of pain, it can stop sending out endorphins in response to that pain – so it might take a different type of pain altogether to get those endorphins flowing again. Consider what tools you have at your disposal that could achieve that.

Pain can be an opportunity for creativity, rather than a limitation.

I once had a friend-with-benefits with whom the “benefits” were primarily rope bondage, which he loved (so do I). He told me once that I’m very fun to tie up, and I scoffed. “You have to be joking,” I said. “My joints are so bad that there are tons of ties you can never do with me.”

He furrowed his brow. “That’s exactly why you’re a fun rope bottom for me,” he replied. “It’s an interesting challenge, figuring out which ties are going to work for your body.”

It had literally never occurred to me to think of my condition that way before. I’m no longer regularly in touch with that dude but his words have stuck with me. I think of them every time I feel like a useless submissive, a broken toy, for being unable to sustain certain positions. Many doms and tops love an opportunity to be crafty and clever – and that includes being in charge of a body that works a little differently than most.

 

Is chronic pain a part of your sex life? How do you like to deal with it?

Review: Cowgirl

Kate Sloan

What kind of person would spend $2,000 on a sex toy?

I kept wondering this whenever I would read about the new rideable vibrator from Alicia Sinclair (of b-Vibe and Le Wand fame), the Cowgirl. I just couldn’t figure out what would motivate someone to drop that much money on a sex toy. A friend of mine once spent $956 on a Venus for Men, but that’s a basically automated, hands-free blowjob-in-a-box. I would consider buying a toy that pricey if it would essentially give me effortless orgasms, too, if I could afford it.

But there is nothing effortless about the Cowgirl.

Based loosely on the infamous Sybian, the Cowgirl is a vibrator roughly the size of an ottoman. It’s heavy as fuck – 28 pounds out of the box – so I had to get my mom and brother to help me transport it from my parents’ house (where I had it shipped) to my apartment across town. Fortunately for me, my family is chill as hell.

The Cowgirl is marketed as essentially a slicker, more luxurious update to the Sybian. Alicia Sinclair has a habit of doing this: she previously called her Le Wand “a refined classic wand massager with upgraded features and gorgeous design,” despite it being a buzzier, louder, reskinned Magic Wand Rechargeable. I will admit, however, that the Cowgirl does indeed have some advantages over the Sybian. It’s covered in soft, luxe leather, making it more comfortable and more aesthetically pleasing than its predecessor. It has handles, making it more portable than the Sybian (well, as portable as a 28-pound, 16.7” by 13.4” by 10.9” sex toy is ever gonna be, anyway). It has fewer attachment options available – just two, an external one and an insertable one, versus the 17+ different attachments Sybian currently offers – but the all-black attachments are more aesthetically harmonious than the Sybian’s, and are also made of 100% silicone, a claim which only a few Sybian attachments can make.

I’ve only tried a Sybian once – three years ago, at my friend Epiphora‘s house, while eating pizza and watching Fifty Shades of Grey with a bunch of sex bloggers – so I can’t give you an in-depth comparison of the two, sensation-wise. However, I seem to remember the Sybian being buzzier (i.e. possessing higher-pitched vibrations) than the Cowgirl. Both are embarrassingly loud, especially at the higher speeds. Both create what I can only describe as weird intestinal feelings as I get into the higher settings – not exactly a sexy sensation for me.

The Cowgirl is a few inches bigger than the Sybian in all dimensions, which would, I suppose, make it more comfortable to sit on for certain kinds of bodies. However, for mine, it’s definitely less comfortable. I have a hip condition which makes it painful for me to spread my legs wide, especially if I’m putting weight on my knees at the same time. My knees themselves also have some mobility and chronic pain issues; keeping them bent for long periods can be agonizing. So, as you might imagine, rideable vibrators aren’t exactly my favorite thing. The Cowgirl requires my legs to splay wider than the Sybian does, so it gets painful more quickly for me. There’s been many a Cowgirl testing session when I’ve climbed off the toy only to collapse in pain, needing to stretch out my hips and knees for long minutes before I’d feel normal again. What could be a sexy foreplay toy or even the “main event” for some people is so physically debilitating to me that I usually can’t do much of anything after using it.

Theoretically, if you, too, have trouble with the straddling position, you could lie on your back and tilt the toy toward you, like the Sybian FAQ recommends doing. But the Cowgirl is bigger and heavier than the Sybian so this is trickier to manage.

In addition to its corded remote control (which is blessedly easy to use and plays nicely into my vibrator-as-hysteria-treatment fantasies with its vaguely clinical aesthetic), the Cowgirl can also be controlled either locally via the company’s own Bluetooth app, or long-distance via a different app. (Consolidating these two would’ve been way better…) The app setup is so complicated and labor-intensive, however, that even my app-developer boyfriend was like, “Nah, fuck this.” My kingdom for a We-Vibe-esque plug-and-play ease of use.

Besides its bulkiness, heaviness, unreasonable noise level, unreasonable price, and overcomplicated setup, my other main grievance with the Cowgirl is its name. It’s 2018; there is no longer any excuse for making a toy for people with vulvas and telling consumers (even implicitly) that it’s only for women. When companies do this, they alienate potential customers who have vulvas but are not women, they alienate women who don’t have vulvas, and they proudly show off how behind-the-times they are in their understanding of gender. I brought this up with a PR rep for the toy and she told me, “I’ve definitely been thinking about gendered branding… and I’m sure it’s a conversation we’re going to continue to have here,” which is nice, I guess, but feels pretty empty. We shouldn’t need to point these things out to companies at this point; they should know these things by now.

Is there anything I like about the Cowgirl? I guess. It’s pretty to look at (depending on your tastes), relatively easy to use once you’ve got it set up, and has vibrations strong and rumbly enough that they can probably get you off, if you can comfortably maintain the position the toy demands of you. I might be able to recommend it if it was less shockingly loud, or more comfortable to use, or less prohibitively expensive, but alas, it isn’t. I asked my boyfriend – with whom I’ve tested this toy a few times – what he likes about the Cowgirl, if anything, and he replied, “I like that it’s black, and I like dials.” Not exactly a rave.

If you have $2,000 to drop on a sex toy (?!) and want one that’s sure to impress and confuse, maybe you need a Cowgirl. But maybe, instead, you just need a Magic Wand Rechargeable, a Stronic Eins, and an uncomfortable chair to sit on. The net effect would be about the same.

 

Thanks to SheVibe for letting me try the Cowgirl!