| I wasn't really going to indulge in this subject in this forum. But then I got to thinking, I would have written it in my personal journal, if I kept one. This is everyday life that most folks (pretty much the women) would commiserate with. Who cares if Calvin's sister may be reading? Or my neighbor? Or Marie? (or the friends of hers who read) Perhaps you read to become educated, or entertained, or enlightened. Perhaps I can accommodate all three. Not to be sexist, here, but if you happen to be a boy, you may want to find something else to be doing right about now. Not that I begrudge you the read. Nor do I assume that you would *want* to read if you happen to be a girl. Girls may not want to hear this stuff, either. With that said, here it is. Straight up, no bull. Girl talk. And I'm sure you saw this coming... I had my annual exam today. Yes, *that* exam. The primary joy of being a woman is the opportunity to be examined in *that* way every year. Some even love it so much they go every six months. Maybe it's the paper gown. Maybe it's the stirrups. Maybe it's the speculum. Each woman is charmed by different components of the procedure. Going way overboard on the sarcasm, here. My primary goal today (other than discomfort and embarrassment) was to change my method of birth control. Starting at 16, I went on the pill. Continued that way until about 18 months ago, when I switched to Depo Provera. Now I know there are die hard advocates and die hard protesters of Depo. In my own humble experience, I shall outline my own pro's and con's of the stuff: Depo - The Good
Depo - The Ugly (notice how we skip "The Bad" all together)
You can open your eyes now, Marie. Once I figured out *that* little detail, I made the appointment right away. So now I'm back on the pill, and anticipating the lingering side effects of Depo to decrease over the next few months. Damn, that stuff can mess you up. And the kicker is that I only recently realized what was causing *all those symptoms* listed above. And damn, am I happy that it's such an easy fix as switching prescriptions. Here I was anticipating the need for months of therapy or something. Here's another kicker. A woman's experience during "the exam" is directly proportional to the skill of the OB GYN, or Nurse Practitioner, or Midwife performing the deed. I've had experiences which have left me sore and tender for days. I've had others where I felt like one of an endless line of patients, shuffling in and out of the room like turnstiles at the subway. I've had some where I'm never even called by name, just felt like I'm being pulled apart in two and scraped with a wire grill brush. But then I have had other experiences where the woman (always a woman, for me) is blessed with a gentle sense of humor and a sympathetic touch. I'm asked personal questions in such a way as to inspire a feeling in me of being cared for, not interrogated. And the actual deed itself is effortless, painless, and blessedly brief. Like today. I didn't even feel a thing. And I'll bet a lot of ladies out there know how rare *that* particular phenomenon is. I actually left the office In A Good Mood. Cheerful, even. Instead of feeling vaguely sick, and wanting to take a shower and curl up under a comforter. It's not always comfortable being a chick. Goodness knows, I'm not looking forward to the reinstatement of my monthly "visitor". But if *that's* all I have to put up with in order to get rid of all that shit I listed above, it's golden. I am Woman... ...hear me complain about it on a regular basis. There you have it, folks. Certainly the most detailed about my private life that I've ever been on this site. Heh. Let's see what *that* does to my hit count. |
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Your Mission, should you choose to accept it...
Check out the finalists for this quarter's Diarist Awards. I'd like to point out that several folks I voted for are finalists (including Dawn and Anna and Dana and Jen and Terri and Pamie and Melissa). Yeesh, looking at *that* list, it's no wonder I didn't make it!
Results From Yesterday's Mission With all the cards I stuck in Calvin's luggage for his trip to Chicago, I think I'm caught up for a while on the whole card-giving thing. At least until Valentine's. Which is coming up. Soon. Ack. I grabbed the design idea for the box thingy from Anna.
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