Thursday, December 29, 2011

How I Got So Far in Life is Beyond Me

Soooo...today I learned that I have been using tampons incorrectly for the past ten years.

Incorrectly, you say? How does one use them "incorrectly?"

Well.

An important thing to note before I get into this hilariously improbable story is that I was raised in a school district with abstinence-only education. You know, the kind that tells you that women are 90% emotional, 10% sexual, and men are 90% sexual, 10% emotional, and that married couples (who have the best sex, fyi) complete each other 100% (because 100% plus 100% equals...100%?), and that women who have sex before marriage are like used lollipops (or toothbrushes, depending on which teacher you had), and EW, who would want to use something that's already been all mucked up by someone else's germs!

But, I digress.

For the past three weeks, I have been taking antibiotics for a sinus infection. The first week, I was on regular amoxicillin, but when that failed to take away sinus pressure, my doctor put me on fancypants amoxicillin, which seemed, for the most part, to take the headaches away. At least the worst of them. Unbeknownst to me, antibiotics can kill not only the bacteria or whatever in your face, but in your vagina as well--good bacteria that keeps the yeast at bay. Or something. Long story short, I woke up one day with vag fire. Don't think that's a thing? Try being on antibiotics for three weeks and then ignoring the initial symptoms of a yeast infection because you weren't really aware that was a thing and then realize that your hoo-ha is on FUCKING DEATH FIRE. It is unpleasant as shit.

After using the necessary and awkward medication suppository-thingmajig, I felt pretty icky, and also the vag fire wasn't completely put out, so I had to call off work. I told my boss that I had a negative reaction to a medication (which is totes true) and that I was pretty sure I'd need to go to the ER (which I THOUGHT was true because I was convinced that I was going to die). Luckily, I realized that I would rather die than pay $100 to sit in an ER for three hours, so I opted to drug the shit out of myself and sleep on the couch all day. Yaaaaaay Valium.

That morning, I asked my mother, a nurse, when it would be okay for me to pee. To which she was all, o.O face? And then proceeded to tell me that I knew that your pee hole and vag hole are two separate things, right?

To which I was all, O_O ?!?!?!

And then she was like lollollollollolsrsly? wtf are they teaching you in school?

And then I was like...lollipop, grumble, going back to bed. But not before I pee out of a hole I was previously unaware that existed.

So I sleep all day, as previously stated, and then texted my friend Sarah about the magical pee hole discovery. I'm not sure how we got on the topic, but I mentioned that with this anti fungal stuff, you can't use a tampon, which I thought was kinda weird since the medicine gets put all the way UP there.

And that's when I started to wonder: why, if you could use pads to make sure the medicine doesn't fuck up your cute and expensive underwear, why couldn't you use a tampon? It's not like a tampon goes UP, it just kinda hangs out in between your lips, so to speak.

God. Damn. It.

So I asked Sarah: have I been using tampons wrong for the past like, ten years?

Sarah: *Confused on how you would use something like tampons incorrectly*

Me: They don't go, like, ALL THE WAY up, do they?

Sarah: *facepalm*

Sarah was like, WTF, dude, they come with directions! And I was like, no stupid, I just checked my box and they do NOT.

Then I checked a different box. One that I apparently had NOT thrown the directions away.

Turns out, she was right. They DO go all the way up. And you CAN pee with tampons in.

I'd always kind of wondered why some women I knew bitched about cardboard applicators. Now I know.

Saturday, December 10, 2011

ruh-roh

some bad news:

I am pretty sure I have a brain tumor, and probably also face cancer.

Don't think that's a thing?

Look it up.

**EDIT: DO NOT LOOK UP FACE CANCER, SOME THINGS CANNOT BE UNGOOGLED

Okay so anyway, furreal, I have had a chronic eyebrow headache for about a month. Sinus headache, you say?

No.

That is not a thing.

...shut up.

Anyway.

I have never been particularly good at accurately gauging time lapses, but I'm fairly certain that these headaches coincide with the death of my grandmother. My gram and I were very close--she and my grandfather helped to raise me in my formative years, and I made a habit of calling her at least once every other week to see how she was doing. As of late (and by late, I mean like ten years--see, timesense is not a thing I possess), she's not been doing well--had not been doing well, rather--and pretty much everyone was like, okay, she's probs gonna die soonish, guess we'll make the most of our time and whatnot. But since my life was a giant sadface for the past three months or so (and by three months I mean chronic depression-y since fetushood), I had avoided contact for the most part because I didn't want her to know how sad I was.

Apparently that's a thing I've been doing since I was little. My childhood psychologist told me that I had told him I didn't want to talk about my dad with my mother because I didn't want to hurt her. The FUCK a six-year-old thinks that kind of shit.


**EDIT: The problem with taking a brief hiatus to eat a popsicle and snuggle your cat is that you COMPLETELY lose your trail of thought. Orrrr it kinda makes you realize you didn't really have one in the first place and maybe you should just GTFOff the computer and watch Arnold Schwarzenegger be pregnant in a movie (seriously, I don't understand why Junior was never Oscar-nominated). But I digress...

So I guess what I was trying to say back there is that for the past weekish or so, I have been having dizzy spells, headaches, nausea, the shakes (is there a real-life word for that? I'd use trembling but that sounds kinda...inappropriate-y), forgetfulness and weird limb sensations which means I am PROBABLY dying. Except that I'm probably NOT dying, I'm just sad and overdramatic and fifty-milligrams of Adderall paranoid when I haven't even been TAKING my Adderall BECAUSE it makes me so goddamn paranoid.

Grumble grumble.

I feel very stuck, and I'm not quite sure how to get unstuck. Empirically, I know I am intellectually gifted, creative, amusing and hard-working, but I have so much of the anxieties that usually I just sit on the couch being sad for extended periods of time.

Mas electroshock, por favor.