On why I will never financially support Greenpeace

If you know me personally, you’ll have a pretty good idea of my political viewpoint. If you don’t, I’ll sum it up by saying that I’m a vegetarian, garden growing, creature loving, equal rights politicising person who manages an allergy food store who can’t wait to see the back of National. This would lead many to believe that I’m a total greeny – which I kind of am. Nevertheless, Greenpeace ain’t my bag.

These are the two main reasons why I won’t financially support Greenpeace:

1) I don’t enjoy being harassed on the street by them

2) I don’t agree with their ‘sales’ strategy

I was inspired to write this blog post when I went to pick up some groceries and ran into the Greenpeace conversion crew at the entryway. One of their ‘sales people’ was yelling at someone who said they weren’t keen: ‘Do you want another oil spill in your back yard?’ Hearing someone guilt trip a stranger like that reminded me the time some Auckland Uni Christians I didn’t know told me I was going to hell. Just like with Christians, I don’t judge the Greenpeace sales people by one ‘bad’ representative. But this is a familiar refrain from them. And having lived with someone who worked for Greenpeace, I have a fair idea why.

Has someone in telesales ever called your home around dinner time? Have you had difficulty getting them off the phone? Have you ever wondered why? It’s because in most call-centres, an incentive of some kind is on offer to increase sales rates and therefore profit for the company they work for. As a clueless teen I worked in a call centre so trust me, I know. Did you know that Greenpeace uses cash incentives to increase their membership rates? A good Greenpeace sales person can earn good money. It’s no wonder that their ‘sales people’ can be just as vigilant as those annoying telesales reps.

I understand that Greenpeace isn’t about making a profit like the companies who utilise telesales reps, so let’s move this analogy to Mormons. If you live in a reasonably easy access property, it is likely you have been visited by some Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses (J-Ho’s) at some point. I know that most have been raised to think this way, and I respect their right to believe what they like. When they come knocking I politely say thanks, but no thanks. These religious groups genuinely believe they are helping to make the world a better place. Greenpeace genuinely believes this too. I’m not a Mormon or J-Ho, even though I agree with much they believe in because there are some things about their faith system I’m not a fan of. It’s the same with Greenpeace.

The main thing I disagree with (as evident above) is their marketing tactic. Yes, I understand with more members there is more money to do more work and make the world a better place. And I understand that using a business model for a charity has some logic to it. But taking a corporate hard-line sales stance when you are opposed to corporate interference with our environment seems a little hypocritical...

I’m also not a fan of the guilt-tripping. I’ve heard it a bunch of times. They look at you like you are some heartless piece of scum if you don’t sign on the dotted line, and they know nothing about you. This is a great way to prey on those with insecurities or with a little too much compassion. I used to be like this. I used to be like: ‘But I only give money to Red Cross, Canteen and volunteer at Hospice twice a week. I should really do more for the environment (the elderly, the dolphins, insert anything that tugs heartstrings here).’ I don’t do that now*. I’ve learnt from speaking to a range of charity sales people that their sales rates are higher in lower income areas. It’s those who know hardship who know how helping others can make a difference. I don’t like how Greenpeace uses guilt to pay their bills.

Lastly, sometimes the ignorance of their ‘Sales reps’ is astounding. I’ve stopped getting in arguments with them after the few cyclical arguments I’ve had. It’s just like arguing with a telesales person, or a Mormon, or a tree – it goes nowhere. I guess if you benefit from telling people how to think, you can’t really question that way of thinking.

Despite these things, I do believe in many of the things they believe in – I’ve even signed a few petitions on their website. There are many more useful ways of supporting the causes you believe in than by giving them your money or telling others to think how you think. Share information, and let people decide for themselves. Live your life in a way that reflects your beliefs.

*I now have a ‘charities budget’. I donate regularly to one charity, financially aid a political party (who incidentally, don’t support oil drilling) and give to other charities as I am able.

On losing a tube

Our family has a bit of a history with ectopics. My mum had three. My great Aunt had a few too. The doctors say it is not hereditary. I say given our family history maybe an aspect of it is. Maybe our fallopian tubes are a bit anorexic, or maybe our cilia (little hairs in fallopian tubes) are wusses that get damaged easily. The pro for me about our family history is that when something goes a bit wrong, we know to be proactive. Mum has haemorrhaged twice. I’ve had two ectopics now and have haemorrhaged nonce. I’d say that’s a lesson learnt.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

If you read my ‘On Getting Older’ post last year you will have read about my nervousness of starting a family. Despite this, Murray and I decided that 2012 was going to be the year we’d try and get knocked up.

So I went off the pill just before Christmas as it usually takes a couple of months before you are able to conceive. Due to my super fertility and with a bit of help from Murray, we managed to get knocked up first ovulation cycle(2^nd Januaryish) – so we clocked the whole getting knocked up in 2012. Go the year of the Dragon! We were very excited about the prospect of a dragon baby.

I knew I was pregnant before we had a positive test. It’s hard to explain this to people that haven’t had this happen, but sometimes you just know. Next thing we knew my period was late, boobs suddenly huge, people had said I was ‘glowing’ and we took a home pregnancy test that was positive. We were so excited! We told my best friend, and our flatmates, and our friend who was going home to Switzerland (cos who is he gonna tell?) and planned to go to the doctors the coming weekend to confirm.

Two days after the excitement and pondering baby names (Ulysses?) I started spotting at work. I was worried, so I called Healthline and they told me to get to a GP within 24 hours. Because the pain had gotten worse and shifted to one side in particular, and because of my previous ectopic, my GP sent me straight to Auckland Hospital for a scan.

I had an ectopic pregnancy when I was twenty. I didn’t know I was pregnant – it was most definitely an accident. Because it started partially miscarrying just after my period was due, I thought I had a bad period – but it lasted for ages. The only reason I saw a doctor is because I had trouble doing yard work at the bach so told Grandma what was going on. She sent me to her doctors straight away. I had blood tests over a couple of weeks, had a laparoscopy and removed the ectopic from my right fallopian tube. Bing bang boom. Freaky gynae surprise dealt with.

Here are the basics on ectopics for those not in the know:

An ectopic pregnancy is where the fertilised egg implants itself in the wrong place ie: not the uturus. Most of the time it implants in the fallopian tubes, but sometimes it implants in weirder places like the cervix or ovaries. 60% of ectopic pregnancies naturally miscarry. If this doesn’t happen, and the ectopic is not removed it haemorrhages in whatever tiny space it is wrongly occupying. An untreated ectopic can be fatal.

So we went to hospital, did scans, tests, etc, and they kept me there for three days for monitoring. The thing with ectopics is, they are hard to detect. They usually fix themselves via miscarriage but if they don’t, time is a factor because of the whole possible haemorrhaging to death thing. The process of working out what this was took them about ten days. Because of how early in the pregnancy we were, it was hard for them to know for sure what was going on.

I had three scans over nine days and five blood tests. Last Friday I was told it was ectopic, and they were going to give me this chemo drug to dissolve the pregnancy tissue. They sent a counsellor to talk to me, measured and weighed me to work out the dose, and then a few hours later a specialist came and told me there wasn’t enough certainty for them to give me the drug. There was a possibility that it was still a normal pregnancy with other issues. The specialist (and us) wanted this possible baby to have every possible chance. We went home with strict instructions to come back if anything changed before my next appointment on Sunday.

On Saturday night we were watching A Team (which sucks) when the pain became a bit more stabby. We went straight to hospital. I felt like a bit of a dick for not waiting until morning, but was glad after we got there as it got worse; the hospital gave me oxycontin, we don’t have drugs like that at home. They told me that they were going to do a laparoscopy in the morning, and had doctors on hand in case I did haemorrhage and had to go in sooner. I stayed up all night feeling a bit dopey and doing Sudoku.

Murray and Mum managed to get in before they took me in to theatre. Going to theatre is weird. It’s this big room with big lights and lots of people. My anaesthetist, and all my doctors and nurses were women. The operating table has a hole in it, but it was covered by a towel. When I tried to shift from bed to table I put my arm through it. About four people grabbed at me to stop me falling. It was hilarious. Then they gave me midazolam…

Waking up from general was surprisingly nice. I was pretty sore but they had put warm towels on my stomach and I had these weird, inflating electric blanket socks on which were comforting. My pain levels took awhile to go down so I was in recovery for a few hours before I could go to the ward. I had been in surgery for an hour. Apparently I had been very funny on midazolam so when I came out of surgery everyone was smiling. I asked what had happened, and they told me they had to remove my left fallopian tube as it was too badly damaged from the ectopic.

Losing a tube for me is harder than losing this pregnancy. About one in five pregnancies end in miscarriage, and at just a few weeks into this pregnancy, we were aware that might be a reality for us. Losing a tube is weird. It’s not like something that people notice when you’re walking down the street. It’s also not like it feels that different not having it – there’s no weird empty space like if you lose a finger, your organs just kind of move around and fill the empty space. Losing a tube could also lose me an important function.

Because my previous ectopic was on the opposite side, it means we may not be able to naturally conceive. In six weeks I will have a scan to test the function of my right fallopian tube. If it functions, we can then try and get pregnant again. If not, we will have to look at other options. We have already been told that we will be eligible for IVF because I’m young, not too fat and a non-smoker – so that is great. Because of my super fertility, and the fact I’ve been an egg donor before, this option seems pretty reasonable. Sadly, if things go awry at our 6 week scan this will be our only way to have a baby. Currently in NZ law, gay couples, and people in Civil Unions are unable to adopt. This law needs updating. I will write more about this later.

It’s so funny how a person can go from not really being too bothered about something to really wanting it to happen in a few short months. And it’s weird how you can miss having a part of your body that you don’t see, use or think about every day. Murray and I are both very pragmatic people so we are coping well and I am sure something positive will come from this.