Content note: sexual health, sex work, adult sexual references and swearing. I’ve had crabs, chlamydia, syphilis and gonorrhoea. There you go. We can stop whispering now. I had my routine STI check this week. Frisky’s big gay weekend is coming up, and I’ve gotta make sure I’m looking after myself before a whole lot of topping.
And bottoming 😈 I get checked every three months, take PrEP every day and use Doxy-PEP as prescribed after sex. For my own sexual health as well as everyone else’s. I haven’t always been this consistent. I wasn’t doing this when I was in a throuple in 2025.
Lessons learnt. Being in a relationship doesn’t make conversations about testing irrelevant. But anyway. Before we get into the infections, let me tell you how I managed to cover my hands in lube at the nurse’s office. Entirely by accident, for once. So I get there, and the usual questions about my sexual history start.
Once upon a time, I would’ve downplayed what I do. Left a few things out. Made myself sound a little more acceptable. This time, I fully said: “I’m doing sex work as well as being sexually active.” No white lies. No embarrassment. Just told her. I was impressed with myself.
Her expression changed, and so did the tone of her voice. My hyper-aroused Woulf instincts picked it up straight away, but it felt like a good change. She explained that sexual health was her passion and immediately asked if I was already taking PrEP and Doxy-PEP. “Absolutely,” I replied.
She made sure my prescriptions were updated so I could order both online when needed. And I relaxed. Which, unfortunately for everyone around me, usually means my mouth gets going. I have a particular way of talking. Swearing, dirty jokes, no filter and saying everything straight-up.
I either make people laugh or completely put them off me. Either way is fine 🤣 I do need to tame it down sometimes. A nurse trying to do her job probably doesn’t need my entire weekend itinerary, including the part about sleeping with multiple different people.
It was a joke. Kinda. Off she goes to get the needles and piss tubes while I sit in her office, bored. My fingers smell slightly like the pot I smoked earlier, and I spot some hand sanitiser on the table beside me. Couple of pumps. Rub my hands together. What the fuck? Why is it so sticky?
Because it was actually lube. Sitting next to a box of rubber gloves. FML. Now I’ve got lube all over my weed hands. That’s so typically something I would do. Fucking stoner 🤣 It reminds me of a trip to the J’ville sauna, where a guy I was hooking up with made the same mistake in reverse.
Darkroom. Hood on. Couldn’t see shit. He reached for what he thought was the lube dispenser and applied it to both of us. It was fucking hand sanitiser. I got some in the hair around my arse. He got a much worse surprise and ended up in the toilet rinsing himself off, making all sorts of noises.
His friend had to take him home. I never saw him again. So yes, read the fucking label. Especially in the dark. Anyway, back to the nurse. She walks in while I’m furiously wiping my hands with paper towels, looking like I’ve just been caught doing something naughty.
She doesn’t notice. Thank fuck. Time for the blood tests. I have a heavily tattooed left arm, and I usually get blood taken from that side so I can still jack off with my right. Priorities. This time, though? Fuck me. She seemed nervous. After two failed attempts in my left arm, she got another nurse to take blood from my right.
I looked like a fucking pincushion, but at least they got it done. Three plasters later, I’m off to the toilet to piss in a cup and do my own swab. I prefer doing my own swabs. I’ll get my arse eaten anytime, but when a nurse wants to stick a cotton swab up there?
Nahhhh. I’ll do that myself. If that part puts you off testing, ask about self-swabbing. It’s an option for some tests, and they can explain how to do it. You can also ask what each test is checking for. The questions about your sex life help them work out what you need.
Healthify explains what happens at a sexual health check. Now I need to return the bag full of my DNA to the nurse. Left or right? Ugghhhhh. Not this again. Okay, I got lost. But my collar jingles when I walk, and my loud voice is difficult to miss anyway. The receptionist points me in the right direction.
Test tubes returned. Free condom in my pocket. Off I go. I got the results late in the afternoon. All clear. That was a relief. But a negative result only tells you about the infections tested for, at a time when the tests can detect them. Some infections take time to show up.
Ask your clinic whether you need another test after a recent encounter. More on testing and window periods. And if my results had been positive? I would still deserve the same care. So would you. My first experience of this stuff was with crabs. Yup. Crabs. 🦀 I was 18.
Itchy crotch, little things crawling around my balls, and absolutely no fucking idea what I was meant to do about it. So I shaved off my pubes. That was my solution. I wish someone had told me to get proper treatment instead of trying to sort it out on my own. Pubic lice need an appropriate treatment from a pharmacy or healthcare provider, along with advice about sexual contacts and washing bedding, towels and clothes.
Shaving isn’t the treatment plan. Healthify’s pubic lice guide explains what to do. Since then, I’ve also had chlamydia, syphilis and gonorrhoea. Most of the time, I haven’t had any symptoms. An infection has usually been picked up because a sexual partner told me they’d tested positive, or through one of my routine checks.
Feeling fine doesn’t tell you whether you have an STI. Plenty of infections have no obvious symptoms. Those bacterial infections can be treated, but leaving them untreated can cause harm. If something feels wrong or a partner tells you they’ve tested positive, contact your clinic instead of waiting for your next routine appointment.
Healthify has more on symptoms, testing and treatment. Which brings me back to the pills. PrEP helps prevent HIV when taken as prescribed. It doesn’t prevent the other STIs. Condoms, used correctly with suitable lube, reduce the risk of HIV and many other STIs. Different tools do different jobs.
Burnett Foundation’s safer-sex guide explains the options. Doxy-PEP is prescribed doxycycline taken after sex to reduce the chance of certain bacterial STIs, particularly chlamydia and syphilis. Here in Aotearoa, it isn’t expected to prevent gonorrhoea because most local gonorrhoea is already resistant to doxycycline.
It isn’t suitable for everyone, and antibiotic resistance matters. Talk to your doctor or sexual health clinic about whether it’s appropriate for you, and follow your own prescription. Regular testing still matters. Burnett Foundation has the NZ Doxy-PEP information here.
At the time of this check, I hadn’t had an STI in 14 months while using Doxy-PEP as prescribed. That’s my experience. It doesn’t prove that Doxy-PEP prevented every possible infection, or that I can stop testing. And yes, I’d slept with several people.
The exact number is none of your business. Unless I write about it, of course. With consent if you’re featured. I’m all for slut-faming. Not slut-shaming. At a pup meet-up, another pup told me he was living with HIV. I didn’t flinch or move away. I leaned closer and listened.
His story reinforced why I want to talk about this openly. People should be able to tell you something about their health without wondering whether you’re about to treat them differently. HIV treatment means people can live long, healthy lives. A person on effective treatment who maintains an undetectable viral load cannot pass HIV on through sex.
Undetectable equals untransmittable. U=U. Burnett Foundation explains life with HIV and treatment. And people living with HIV deserve respect whether they’re undetectable yet or not. Same goes for anyone who tells you they’ve tested positive for an STI. That conversation can be fucking awkward.
Don’t make them regret telling you. If it’s you making the call, you don’t need a speech. Tell them what you’ve been diagnosed with and that they should contact their clinic for advice. If you’re struggling to notify someone, ask your clinic for help.
Follow their advice about treatment and when you can have sex again. Healthify covers partner notification and treatment. There’s no shame around this topic for me now. If there still is for you, I get that. Eighteen-year-old me was trying to deal with crabs by shaving his fucking pubes off.
I wish he’d had someone to explain what was happening. What to do next. And that he was okay. That’s why I’m writing this. The lube hands are funny. The three plasters are annoying. But the bit I actually care about is whether someone reading this feels able to book an appointment and tell the truth when they get there.
You shouldn’t have to feel ashamed to prove you’re taking your sexual health seriously. I’m looking after mine so I can keep enjoying my sex life. Testing, honest conversations, prevention that suits me, and treatment when it’s needed. None of that requires me to apologise for liking sex.
If you’re due a check, go book a test, bitch. Your GP or local sexual health clinic can help, and Burnett Foundation can help you find testing options . If you’re on PrEP, arrange your monitoring through your prescriber or sexual health clinic. I’m stocked up with my prescribed Doxy-PEP and PrEP, and I’m ready to have a fucking great time in Queenstown.
If you’re there, come say hi. Especially if you want to talk about sexual health. Or my inability to identify a bottle of lube.