[Sandy]

About a year and a half ago I was diagnosed with sensory neuropathy, labial resorption, vulvar vestibulitis syndrome, low calculated free testosterone and elevated prolactin. Translated: I had almost no sex drive and felt nothing except for possible mild pain. Basically I could check almost every box in the area of female sexual dysfunction. But I could not have been more elated or happier because someone finally acknowledged that there was something physically wrong: which meant treatment and hope for recovery.

For over twenty years, (I am 43 years old), I have been in search of a doctor who could help me with my condition. If I think long enough about it, I would wager a guess that it had something to do with my lack of menses (after having it briefly) from age 13-20. I was a long distance, competitive runner, and began extreme dieting. Poor nutrition and ultra thinness was the beginning of the demise of my sexual development. My family doctor was concerned when I saw him at age 19, but didn’t want to “play with mother nature” and so he did not attempt hormone therapy. A year or two later, I mentioned to another doctor the fact that I could not feel anything sexually, and he said that probably my boyfriends were not doing it right (which I found incredibly sweet, but inaccurate).

I have worked for over 17 years in a job which allowed me to travel all over the world, and I sought help at every destination. Here is my journey. In 1996, after traveling throughout the Mediterranean, I went for help to a doctor who prescribed Viagra that alone was of not much use. He asked me if I had ever injured myself with a mechanical device, which of course was “no.” I then lived in Italy where most of the American doctors with whom I met were taken aback at my mention of sexual issues. “For real, you don’t feel anything at all” was one reaction, only to make me feel even worse. Zoloft was the drug of choice, which of course didn’t help much either. In 1999, while working in Hawaii, I went to a doctor who said she would research it and came up with Wellbutrin. She said my testosterone was low, but still within limits, and she said that “if I give you testosterone your voice will deepen and you’ll just want to have sex all the time” which I couldn’t really understand how that would be a problem. Then she wanted to know if this is what I wanted, or was my boyfriend pushing me to do this. My next destination was a command on a Greek island where I went for my refill of Wellbutrin. I did not elaborate why I needed the drug because the doctor was quite handsome and young. He whispered to me that he too had a problem “quitting smoking” and understood why I needed the Wellbutrin. I smiled, but neither confirmed nor denied my status as a “non smoker.” The next place of residence was Virginia, where the female Physician’s Assistant was unsympathetic so I went to a male doctor who gave me high doses of Wellbutrin plus Viagra. The female P.A. soon softened her attitude and gave me a testosterone compound which I would apply near the vaginal area. By this time my biological clock was ticking and I wanted to have children before it might be too late. I went with my husband to a large military Medical Center and the doctor stated that my FSH level was too high, one point above their limit for the In Vitro Fertilization program. I asked him if he could at least try once, but he said “no,” they only accept people who are good candidates to conceive because they wanted to keep their success rates high; and that I should consider adoption. Having thought myself to be an active, healthy person, I was mortified. Then my husband’s friend recommended a civilian doctor. To make a long story short, in one try, I had two of the most amazing and beautiful twins (boy and girl) I could have ever dreamed or hoped for.

But after In Vitro, my libido hit rock bottom. I was then living in Connecticut where one doctor ran a gamut of tests and said everything was normal. So I went to another doctor and he thought I might have the “baby blues” for which he prescribed Zoloft. I mentioned the libido issue, and he gave me, in addition, very high doses of my good friend, Wellbutrin. My next place of work and residence was San Diego, CA. I thought surely I would find the help I needed at one of the large medical facilities. I went to a doctor, but he was concerned that I’d just “grow facial hair and develop acne” if I took testosterone. He referred me to OBGYN and a resident ran a series of blood tests and said everything was fine, so that maybe I should seek out a therapist to talk about my issues.

That was when I remembered my success with a civilian doctor after I was told I couldn’t have children. So I went on line and did a search for an experimental program after having attempted one previously. Dr. Goldstein’s practice came up, and I called but was under the age limit for the test program. But the person on the phone said Dr. Goldstein also takes patients. At that point, I didn’t care what the cost might be (and it was surprisingly quite affordable) so I set up an appointment.

We chatted over the phone and I immediately felt at ease and hopeful. From the office reception to his entire staff, I never witnessed nor experienced such a high degree of warmth and professionalism. I was treated for my conditions with Estradiol cream, testosterone gel, Cabergoline for my high prolactin levels, Wellbutrin and Ritalin as dopamine agonists, and six months later began to feel things I never felt before; thrilled to almost know what it was like to be truly human. I went to give my victory speech at a “Sex and our City” symposium, only to find out one week later the crushing news that I would be sent to Afghanistan. Going through the pre-deployment screening, I was told that I was on too much medication and that I had to go off everything for 3 months before being deployed. I had to prove that I wasn’t “stressed and depressed” (I was taking multiple medications which are dopamine agonists – and they referred to them as prohibited “psychotropic drugs”). The attitude was that sexual dysfunction is just a symptom of depression. And that even if it was not, what I was doing was more like elective surgery: nice to have, but non essential for the mission. I did this, proved I was emotionally fine, and lost all the sexual benefits I had recently received. I then missed the deployment deadline, and because I had challenged this delay, found myself in a “power struggle” with one doctor who not only emailed my supervisor, but also sent copies to other hospital department heads, stating that I would need a “mental health” waiver because of certain medications I was taking. Incensed, I began to draft my HIPPA complaint when my supervisor said he would take care of the situation. I was “miraculously” cleared and found fit for deployment. But for the first time in my life I had felt violated.

I called Dr. Goldstein’s office and asked to resume my treatment. Still recovering from personal embarrassment, I again found the sensitivity and care of the staff remarkable. I felt like a wounded warrior being picked up off the roadside, lovingly received, and slowly brought back to life. Things, as before, are steadily improving. As I fast approach my next birthday I believe that, with Dr. Goldstein’s help, “44” will be the new “24.” And I look forward to beginning a new chapter in life enjoying amazing, beautiful sex – something every human being deserves to experience in his or her life.