(Anka Grzywacz, Wikimedia Commons)
By David C. Holzman
David C. Holzman writes from Lexington, Mass., on science, medicine, energy, environment, and cars. He is Journal Highlights editor for the American Society for Microbiology and won a Plain Language Award last year from the National Institutes of Health. This essay began as a response to a CommonHealth post on why people have unsafe sex, and turned into much more.
Caution genes run in my family. My parents put seat belts in the ’57 Chevy in 1960, eight years before they became mandatory. In July, 1975, I bought Bell bicycle helmet serial number 7022. My cycling ensemble also includes one of those lime green jerseys that’s visible from the International Space Station.
And I was asking sex partners about Sexually Transmitted Diseases beginning in the early 1980s, when herpes — not HIV — was the main subject of such conversations. This despite the fact that the first time I did, the woman refused to discuss it, saying I could go to bed with her when I was ready to trust her. Condoms? Of course.
Journalist David C. Holzman
Now, in 2012, I still wouldn’t dream of leaving my seatbelt unbuckled, or biking without my helmet and jersey. I’ve never stopped asking new sex partners about STDs. But recent news reports have suggested that among the middle aged, rates of sexually transmitted diseases are rising while condom use is falling, and I have to confess:
At 59, I’ve worn condoms probably fewer than five times since the millennium, despite having been single for six of those years, during which time I’ve averaged one or two new partners a year, and despite the admonitions of my wonderful primary care doctor. The reason is simple: in my 20s and 30s, sex with a condom felt like getting massaged over a shirt. Now it feels like a massage through a winter overcoat.
I did don a condom last fall, when a new partner made a big deal of it. As a precaution, I took half a Viagra beforehand. (I don’t normally need the pharmaceutical pump; it was left over from earlier, when an antidepressant that I have long since discontinued had turned a Corvette into a Yugo.)
Despite my precaution, our effort to couple resulted in a deflationary event. I couldn’t feel a thing. Actually, I take that back. I did feel the condom squeezing me like a latex boa constrictor, then a softening like a leak in a bicycle tire. And then I felt lost. With that thing on, I would have needed a GPS to find my way in.
I’d like to note here that I take good care of my body. My diet is Michael Pollan-approved, my body mass index is 20, and I run more than 1,000 miles a year. But studies have shown that penile sensitivity declines steadily after the teens and 20s, so that by the 40s and 50s, men require more intense stimulation, says Culley C. Carson, III, Rhodes Distinguished Professor of Urology at the University of North Carolina. “And condoms add to the disability, if you will.”
Female condom (Wikimedia Commons)
I knew that there was an alternative — at least, there had been once. In 1993, I dated a woman who worked on reproductive issues at the National Institutes of Health. We initially used male condoms, but she soon introduced me to something called a female condom, which we used from then on. Then made of polyurethane, it fit inside the vagina, clinging snugly to the walls, held there by an inner and an outer ring. The sensation wasn’t quite as wonderful as using nothing, but for me, the sense of touch was like 20-20 vision rather than the somatosensory blurring that condoms induce. I marveled at the wonder of this device.
Nonetheless, for nearly the next two decades, I never even heard the phrase, “female condom,” nor did I read it, in the mainstream media or any health news outlet. It made few headlines at the major international AIDS conference this week.
Just prior to the date of the deflationary event, knowing that my hydraulics were not what they’d once been, I called a few drug stores to ask if they had female condoms. No one had heard of them.
New HIV diagnoses in people over 50 had doubled from 2000 to 2009.
Soon after, I began seeing news reports with titles like “Seniors’ sex lives are up — and so are STD cases,” and “Condom Use Lowest…Among Adults Over 40?”
In case you missed all that, there were two major sources. One was an editorial last winter in the Student British Medical Journal, written by Rachel von Simson, a medical student at King’s College London, and Ranjababu Kulasegaram, a consultant genitourinary physician at St. Thomas’ Hospital London. The two investigators found that in the UK, new HIV diagnoses in people over 50 had doubled from 2000 to 2009.
How much of that jump comes from unprotected sex? Not clear. They did not break it down by method of transmission, and von Simson says there are no data on condom use in older adults in the UK: “No one was interested in measuring rates until we already had a problem, making past comparison impossible, and still no one has got around to a large study.” Continue reading