Non-instant Product Review: The DivaCup
May. 21st, 2011 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serindeHere we are in a world of unimaginable scientific advances, but for the oldest female problem we are for the most part stuck with one of two solutions: a) pads ("sanitary napkins") (stupidest. term. ever.) which are, in essence, wearing a diaper, thank you no; or b) tampons, which all you can say for them is that they're better than using pads. Neither of these products are cheap, particularly when you add 'em up over the course of thirteen cycles a year (or 14.6, in my case) times, what, 35-40 years? Plus you are dealing with a massive amount of bloody cotton/plastic refuse. There is all kinds of This Sucks going on here.
Comes now the DivaCup[tm], which is a silicone wotcha you sort of screw up on in (fnarr fnarr) and being soft silicone it is less stompy-on-your-bladder than a tampon and you can pee with it in and never know the difference and all you do is pull it out, empty & rinse it, maybe twice a day they say and there's no waste product and and and and. It's no wonder that I've heard women talk about it in religious terms. Since there had been a peculiar, never-explained nationwide shortage of my favored tampon last winter, and I couldn't find a product to take its place, this seemed like a fruitful time to experiment. Now, the DivaCup is not cheap itself--it will run you about $50--but spread that over the lifespan of the device and you can see it being more economical in the long run. So I went to Whole Body, picked one up, and saw what I could make of it.
The experiment has not been entirely successful. It works...mostly. But it's the mostly that's the problem, because the whole purpose of any of these exercises is to not be bleeding all over your clothes, and I'm getting leakage around the edges; just enough to get spotting on the ol' undies. The cup is supposed to form a soft seal around your cervix, thus catching every drop of effluvium, but after three cycles' worth of trying (and extensive reading of every damn online users' community, and attempting all their "here just fold it this way and spin it that way and sing "You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman" while squatting like the Earth Mother" techniques) I can't seem to get the thing to seal firmly.
Secondary problem, though I would find a way to cope with it if the above were not much more of a concern: another of the trumpeted benefits is that you should be able to empty & rinse when you get up, empty & rinse when you get home, and that's it--which is important if you are in an office environment and the sink is not within arm's reach of the potty. The max capacity is 15 milliliters (plus some headroom); the average monthly production, we are told, is 35 ml, spread out over 5-7 days, so that's plenty, right? HA HA NOT FOR ME
Because this experiment has done one invaluable thing: I have been in a position to measure, in my handy little silicone graduated cup, exactly how heavy my cycle is. 35 ml is average, as I noted; the "normal range" is 10-80.
I bleed 60 ml in one day.
My total cycle is between 85-100 ml.
This means several things, one being that I'm entirely justified in feeling miserable during the three most pertinent days, another that I've been going this heavy for my whole adult life and never had a clue that I wasn't normal. Beyond that, however, and more relevant to the current study, it adds another layer of argh in that I have to empty the cup four times during the work day, which is not impossible but it's certainly non-trivial.
Anyways, I don't think this device is a workable solution for me. I had rather change a Super Plus Ultra Holy Shit tampon every 1.5 hours and know I won't get bleed-through than to be constantly worrying about it. There is one other possibility: the DivaCup[tm] comes in two sizes, "1" and "2" (how nicely neutral), in which they stress that the "1" is for women under 25 who haven't given birth, and "2" is for everyone else. The assumption here, it seems clear, is that the larger "2" cup is for those of us whose vajayjays have been stretched out of all recognition, and though I didn't think that was me, I also didn't want to be that delusional twit who persists in buying the teenager stuff for her matronly form, so fine, I obeyed.
However, in spite of a personal history which would make Jezebel stare, my baby quarters are in fact rather...bijou. Indeed, the tightness of the space has been remarked upon on a number of occasions, and comparisons made to other hostesses' facilities. In short, before I get any further with the cutesy phraseology, maybe the "2" cup is just too big to work correctly and I should try the "1". I'm torn; if I can make this technology work, I will be a delightedly happy bunny; but I don't know if I want to blow another $50 on what might be another round of Fail.
Comes now the DivaCup[tm], which is a silicone wotcha you sort of screw up on in (fnarr fnarr) and being soft silicone it is less stompy-on-your-bladder than a tampon and you can pee with it in and never know the difference and all you do is pull it out, empty & rinse it, maybe twice a day they say and there's no waste product and and and and. It's no wonder that I've heard women talk about it in religious terms. Since there had been a peculiar, never-explained nationwide shortage of my favored tampon last winter, and I couldn't find a product to take its place, this seemed like a fruitful time to experiment. Now, the DivaCup is not cheap itself--it will run you about $50--but spread that over the lifespan of the device and you can see it being more economical in the long run. So I went to Whole Body, picked one up, and saw what I could make of it.
The experiment has not been entirely successful. It works...mostly. But it's the mostly that's the problem, because the whole purpose of any of these exercises is to not be bleeding all over your clothes, and I'm getting leakage around the edges; just enough to get spotting on the ol' undies. The cup is supposed to form a soft seal around your cervix, thus catching every drop of effluvium, but after three cycles' worth of trying (and extensive reading of every damn online users' community, and attempting all their "here just fold it this way and spin it that way and sing "You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman" while squatting like the Earth Mother" techniques) I can't seem to get the thing to seal firmly.
Secondary problem, though I would find a way to cope with it if the above were not much more of a concern: another of the trumpeted benefits is that you should be able to empty & rinse when you get up, empty & rinse when you get home, and that's it--which is important if you are in an office environment and the sink is not within arm's reach of the potty. The max capacity is 15 milliliters (plus some headroom); the average monthly production, we are told, is 35 ml, spread out over 5-7 days, so that's plenty, right? HA HA NOT FOR ME
Because this experiment has done one invaluable thing: I have been in a position to measure, in my handy little silicone graduated cup, exactly how heavy my cycle is. 35 ml is average, as I noted; the "normal range" is 10-80.
I bleed 60 ml in one day.
My total cycle is between 85-100 ml.
This means several things, one being that I'm entirely justified in feeling miserable during the three most pertinent days, another that I've been going this heavy for my whole adult life and never had a clue that I wasn't normal. Beyond that, however, and more relevant to the current study, it adds another layer of argh in that I have to empty the cup four times during the work day, which is not impossible but it's certainly non-trivial.
Anyways, I don't think this device is a workable solution for me. I had rather change a Super Plus Ultra Holy Shit tampon every 1.5 hours and know I won't get bleed-through than to be constantly worrying about it. There is one other possibility: the DivaCup[tm] comes in two sizes, "1" and "2" (how nicely neutral), in which they stress that the "1" is for women under 25 who haven't given birth, and "2" is for everyone else. The assumption here, it seems clear, is that the larger "2" cup is for those of us whose vajayjays have been stretched out of all recognition, and though I didn't think that was me, I also didn't want to be that delusional twit who persists in buying the teenager stuff for her matronly form, so fine, I obeyed.
However, in spite of a personal history which would make Jezebel stare, my baby quarters are in fact rather...bijou. Indeed, the tightness of the space has been remarked upon on a number of occasions, and comparisons made to other hostesses' facilities. In short, before I get any further with the cutesy phraseology, maybe the "2" cup is just too big to work correctly and I should try the "1". I'm torn; if I can make this technology work, I will be a delightedly happy bunny; but I don't know if I want to blow another $50 on what might be another round of Fail.
