Day after my birthday...

I wake up. Woo - I have cute little kittens snuggling up beside me. They make the world warm and fuzzy and beautiful.

Then, when I get up to the bathroom, I have the worst pain I've ever felt in my life overcome me. I was sweaty, feverish, but shivering and sitting still hurt as did moving.

I was convinced I was going to die. I managed to get some Ibuprofen from the kitchen and choke down 600mg even through I felt like I needed to throw up, and was shaking. Of course, the effect is not instant.

Thankfully, by some fate-magic, my mom came home so I stumbled out of the bathroom wearing only a towel (I was sweating enough to make my hair wet) and she got me a pair of shorts and I re-dressed and we went to the doctor.


I get to the doctor and I realise that, by the time the place opens, my Art History exam is starting. I'm thankful I have a valid reason for not being there and can substitute my quiz grade for it. I will have to try to work something out with my PhotoShop teacher - I missed turning in my "final project" as well.



So, I find out that there's really nothing that can be done - just take more pills and cross my fingers.


Apparently, my lovely little uterus is flipped-over on itself. Which promotes really bad cramps.

Also, as a less brutal aside - I didn't realise how small the vagina / uterus is. Apparently, all it takes is a finger to get up there to poke an ovary. And apparently, all my parts are in order (I almost hoped they would have to take something out and be done with it) - they're just aligned in a crappy way.

And I'm not pregnant. They checked that, just to be sure.

The only satisfaction I get from this is the hope that my insurance company might pay to have it removed.

I get to go find another doctor and get birth-control pills. I figure they're much easier to get prescribed than high doses of testosterone. So I get to trick my body into thinking it's pregnant. Joy. I suppose once I have a PCP, I can get referred to a psychologist that way.

And now, about eight hours after it all started, I've been taking more Happy Pills, but I still feel incredibly weak and can't stand still for long because I feel like I'll fall over and I have to pathetically prop myself up to type.


In conclusion, this day fucking sucked, and I needed to whine about it.

Here, have a picture of me and a stupid little kitten :



He's such a cute little shoulder-cat.


My Kiss Dolls :




Clubs :



Featured Stamps (rest in Shoutboard and Favourites) :