VED....The Saga Continues.....

Hi All,

I hope your vagina's have been behaving. Mine is still taking a walk on the wild side. Sorry it's been so long but I admit, I've been totally engrossed in my nail blog. If this is your first contact with this blog, don't cheat, go back to the beginning. It won't kill you to take some time to read.

Where did we leave off? Ah, Dr Scrapey...... After that encounter, I was truly frightened to even complain about the fact that I was still bleeding excessively and cramping. I thought, maybe there is some kind of vaginal relationship therapist I could look up so that I could end the pain. You know, just battle it out and let all of our real feelings come out; maybe put my vagina on bi-polar meds. But alas, they don't exist. I tried calling an exorcist but he wasn't familiar with vaginal poltergeists (as if), so I was stuck on my own. My vagina clearly doesn't want to age with dignity. So, I put up with the pain and the bleeding became a lot worse. I went back for my yearly check up and happened to mention that I was bleeding heavily and the doctor was immediately making a big deal about it. I thought again, why did I open my big mouth. She immediately ordered another vaginal sonogram.....oh joy. My vagina is just the gift that keeps on giving! So, I'm curious, what do you when the doctor is poking around or trying to press through your vaginal fat to do the exam? I tend to stare at the ceiling and hum a song in my head. You know, that top 10 diddy, I'm not really here....there is no stranger poking around inside my vagina with a large metal device...I wish I went on a diet last week....fallopian tube solo...break to chorus. Oh, you haven't heard that one?

By the way, my lovely husband just tried to make a deal with me that he'd get snipped if I would let him get a tattoo (and I'd have no say of how big etc). I wanted to smack him on principle.... Men just don't appreciate what we do to our bodies to avoid their offspring and they have no idea what it feels like to bleed excessively and feel like your insides are ripping apart. I'm telling you, one morning, he is just going to wake up and the deed will already be done. Seriously, the boy can sleep through everything. If the world ends in 2012, I will be screaming as it goes down by myself, drowned out by the unworldly sounds of his snoring. I think I could handle the task. I was great with the scalpel in college.

Alright, I've blabbed enough. It's a beautiful day out and then I need to go prepare for surgery. I'm sure there has to be something on google or wikipedia. I have to sterilize my exacto knife and get my sewing kit together. A woman's job is just never done.....

Yeah Yeah Yeah.....I've been MIA......talk to the Vagina

I know.....I suck. I've been totally pre-occupied by my nail blog. It might seem superficial but you can't whine about your vagina every day.

I am going to break from the vaginal drama this week to discuss boob drama.

I had a mammogram in this interim vaginal down time. Yes, let's all have a moment of silence for my guargantuan boobs. Cause I know you can feel my pain. I mean seriously, who was the ass that invented that freaking smushing xray machine? I just had to stop and google and too my surprise, it's 2 men that invented it. Patrick Panetta and Jack Wennet to be exact. So, now you all know who to target in your next voodoo doll ritual. They must be single....Wouldn't that be a complete deal breaker for you? What do you do? Oh, I um invented the mammogram machine (whole restaurant is silent....waiter pages from desk....call security..these women in here look mad cow crazy). A man could get seriously hurt for admitting that.

What did women do to them that they thought the most affective way to detect breast cancer was to painfully smush breasts in a machine in agonizing positions, while giving out a very high dosage of radiation? Seriously, whatever she did to you, I apologize on her behalf. I'm just gonna say...she was a bitch and I'd like to make it up to you. Just take it back and make something else.

I don't see these men developing penis smushing devices. Maybe, that should now be a part of a man's yearly physical. Please place your penis on the table. I'm going to crank a piece of plastic down, making sure I pinch another part of your skin, until the machine won't go down anymore and you have tears in your eyes. Then I'm going to take my time and walk back to the booth; hold your breath.... Oh darn, I didn't get it right. Let me uncrank and re-position you. You just can't make this stuff up.

Since God got overzealous with my boob dna, I always either have to take extra pictures cause they can't fit it on there or they can't position it right. Either way, it ends in a lot of pain. The last words you want to hear during a mammogram is, well, if I can't get it right this time, I will call for backup. WTF. What is that? Attention....staff to room 10.....um we have a situation Triple G (code for big ass boobs)....any attendant who is free and can lift 20 lbs, please come to room 10. I repeat...we have a situation in room 10. I'm losing it in here. I just can't deal with this kind of pressure.. there are boobs everywhere.

My poor girls were traumatized. No amount of ice cream made up for it and since I'm writing about it they are having PTS. And another thing....smushing...really? Ok, gravity is bad enough but I really don't need mechanical help to reach the floor.

The whole gyno community is all about smushing, sticking horrible objects where they shouldn't go; it's all based on pain. And who are these people who choose this for their life work? Ok, I need a drink now. I must stop before I have too many flashbacks and need a therapist. But, I am arranging a million woman penis smushing machine (WPSM) walk in Washington DC this summer. The money for the machine can be included in the Obamacare bill and Obama and all the male senators are going to be it's first victims cause we don't want their wittle penises falling off because of cancer now do we? Wusses....

P.S. Google Breast Thermography. It's an alternative to the mammogram. http://www.examiner.com/x-17146-Dallas-Womens-Health-Examiner~y2009m7d15-Should-women-replace-Mammagrophay-with-Breast-Thermography

Vaginal Effin Drama - Take 3

Hi!

Hope everyone's vagina has been behaving while I've been gone. My vagina is on strike right now so it's not behaving at all. It truly has a mind of it's own. There is no time out chair you can put your ovaries in. There really is no recourse. They just do whatever they want and inflict pain, cramps, and bloating on your body. There's no one you can report them to that really cares. They hold all the cards; have all the power.

I believe I was about to tell you about Dr. Scrapey. My normal GYN is not a doctor. She's cool. But, she only sticks cold, large, metal objects in places that really were never meant to be there. Seriously....who made up this line of evil doctoring? Dig them up, I want to smack them.

Anyway, since she couldn't get through the pearly gates, she sent me to Dr. Scrapey to try. I'm not sure why she thought he could get into my cervix. But, he literally gave it a stab. After much prodding, he finally gave up. I was lying there in pain and wondering what next? He suggested that we do a hysteroscopy (where they insert some scope/camera into your vagina so they can see inside the uterus). He wanted me to get up about 5 hours before the test and insert some giant pill thingy to dilate my cervix. So, I show up that day and they get me all hooked up with an IV. No matter what I said to my vagina it really was not feeling up to a photo shoot. But, mama wanted some drugs. The nurse starts reading why I'm there and says something about a D & C. I said what? I'm here for a endo test and to take a few pictures. So, she looks at me and turns and says oh ok. I should have known right then that Dr Scrapey was up to good. They take me back to the room and there is the nurse, another dude manning the camera output station, and the doctor. Nothing like having an audience and vagina on display for the world to see. At least with Playgirl, you get paid. They give me a little bit of Demerol which does nothing to me. I'm like a horse. I couldn't be a drug addict because I couldn't afford the massive amount of drugs I'd have to suck down just to get high. I'm just chatting it up with the doctor. The Demerol has completely worn off. He takes the pictures. I'm thinking, great that was just a little uncomfortable, I'm done. But, Dr Scrapey was just beginning.

He says, "this is going to hurt a little bit". He then proceeded to give me a D & C with no drugs. I had nothing. I was moaning, sometimes yelling, and crying. I couldn't even process that he was actually scraping the inside of me without giving me drugs. I'm holding onto the table in extreme pain while he says, "Almost done.", for 10 minutes. The stupid nurse says, oh you can take some motrin when you get home for the cramping. Seriously, I would have snatched her if I wasn't trying to hold on for dear life. It was exhausting. I wonder how Dr Scrapey would feel if I scraped the inside of his penis without giving him good drugs. Trust me, he doesn't know how close I was to making that happen.

So, finally, he finished. I was in shock; scratch that, I was traumatized. They wheeled me out and some of the nurses told my husband to go get the car. The Dr. talks to him first and says I'll be fine and asked him if we had pain meds at home (motrin). My husband says um yeah. He says good. The Dr. leaves and a nurse says, did they give you a prescription? He says no but now he's like what the hell did they do to her because the nurse says, "Really?". I got dressed, still in shock and they had gone to get me a wheel chair. My husband had ran back to the car and when he saw me he knew something was wrong. I was in tears and just looked like I was in shock. I told him what happened and he was really upset. So, I emailed my Dr. the next day and told her what happened and how upset I was that I had to go through all of that pain. She was in shock too and said normally you do get pain meds for that kind of procedure.

Anyway, turns out that I'm in perfect health but for the next almost 6 months of periods, I literally cramped and felt like my insides were burning. It was horrible. So, yes, you all got payback for all those wonderful years I had picture perfect periods. Hope you're happy now. I will continue the saga of Dr Scrapey and the wounded vagina next week. I need a drink just typing all of that. I have PTS now.

Vaginal Effin Drama......take 2.

Hello Everyone,

It's that time where I talk about missed periods, cramps, and the oh the so popular PMS. If you haven't read the last blog, then go back! There is no skipping!!

Did you notice on Gilligan's Island, that Mary Ann and Ginger never seemed to get PMS or that monthly visitor from out of state that no one likes but they invite themselves? They come into your home, piss you off, eat your food, drain your energy, and otherwise turn a pleasant person into a raging bitch? Yep, that one. You never heard Mary Ann tell Ginger that she had cramps or that she was not feeling oh so fresh. It makes me think, was the island visitor free? Did they miss their periods due to the overwhelming stress of being stranded on an island with a bunch of idiots? Did they pack an overwhelming amount of Tampax and Midol? Was there some vagina lottery that I missed? I really want to know.

Ok....I'll get out of their vagina's and get back to my own. Where was I? My husband was a wus, I got the poison depo shot, and my uterus was in ignorant bliss for a year and a half with no period. So, my period eventually comes back and to say the least it made up from it's vacation with a vengeance. I would bleed for weeks, take a quick commercial break, and then bleed again. It was like my uterus was on crack, ran out of money to buy more so it went through withdrawals, and then robbed a little old woman on the street and bought more so it could bleed again. It couldn't get enough of the red stuff. Then, I would skip a few months and the cycle would start over. I know...I know. I had years of nothing but disgustingly great, textbook periods. But, it's not like you can remember that when your uterus is on a binge. It seemed like another lifetime when all was good, the birds were singing, and my uterus was not being a complete bitch. That's right missy, I'm calling you out for what you have become. Go ahead, make me bleed more, it will only prove my point.

So, I made the fatal error of telling my doctor that my vagina was on crack. I said look, I'm tired of this craziness. Just give me some drugs. Cut her off, put her under conservatorship, and give her a monthly allowance. She is out of control. Her response was well, you're fat and old and I shouldn't give you birth control (ok she didn't call me fat but I'm calling it like it is and she did mention my weight and fat is the new skinny anyway). I felt like she was going to take me to the back parking lot and shoot me. I had now passed the age where I couldn't get vagina drugs. I was floored. I was thinking, when did this happen? I'm still 30 dammit (at least that is what I tell people). Maybe I could go to East San Jose and score some. This can't be the end for me. My vagina has rights to drugs just like the young vaginas. My vagina is too young to get the discount at Lenny's (I mean Denny's). So, I clenched the front of my gown (well the girls were big and trying to break out of that little scrap of cloth they gave me - I think I heard them mumble something like...don't let her touch me again, I feel so dirty), and I begged. I had no pride. I was trying to throw in vacation front property and my husband. What???! Besides the fact that he's a wus, he's a keeper. He even paints my toe nails since I can't reach them cause I'm so fat (lol just kidding I can reach my toes...I can't see them cause of my boobs, but I can reach them). Finally, after promising not to bear children and a down payment on a Ford Focus, she told me she'd give me some drugs IF I had an endometrial cancer test (those Kaiser doctors are hard). I thought, that's it? Bring it on! So, I lay back down, pretended that the ceiling was the freaking Sistine Chapel (cue elevator music), and let her do her business. However, she couldn't get it in. My cervix was not opening. I felt all this cramping and was like wait a minute, I didn't tell you to rearrange the furniture in there. What the hell are you doing? She tried 3 times at least but every time she came a poking, my cervix was like no...you didn't say the secret password and nothing is getting by me without it. Step off. That is right, my cervix drug blocked me. I was not a happy camper. My next option was that I had to be referred to another doctor because no test, no drugs.

Here is where I'll stop for now. Don't worry, my crack addict vagina will be back next week with the saga of Dr. Scrapey (yeah he earned that name). Until then, hope you have a vagina drama free week. Vagina out!

Vaginal F&%$*#& Drama

This is for all of the girls out there with Vaginal Effin Drama. Is your vagina giving you trouble and you need a place to vent? Well this is the place to let out all of your vagina anger. Do you know someone who has a perfect vagina and never has problems? This is the place to talk about them.

I'll get things started. Here is Part I.

A Vaginal History

First, I have never given birth. Nothing that big is coming out of my vagina. It's just not happening. The thought makes me squeamish. It's a rather disgusting process and even though I have 3 beautiful neices and a nephew, I never really want to know how they got here and what they did to my sisters vajayjays. TMI. Keep that "insert expletive" to yourself. As far as I know, my sisters showed up at the hospital and that miracle of life just popped out nice and bathed with perfect shaped heads and their poor stretched out vaginas immediately went back to normal size. That's all I need to know. Most of you mothers out there lie about the whole process anyway like you are all in a secret cult because if you told the truth, most women would say Hell No to the whole thing. Talk about false advertisement. Maybe you are all the true evil; not my vagina. But, I digress.

Second, I was one of those perfect vagina people. I grew up with no PMS, no cramps, light periods; my vagina was the essence of perfection.

Somehow, everything has gone total wrong. I'm not sure if it was kidnapped and replaced with this new evil vagina and it's making up for lost time. But, something just went horribly bad. I know you are sitting there thinking, I hate her lost vagina. I know.......I understand your hate. I'll just blame my husband whom I also think injects me with fat while I'm sleeping so other men will not look at me. But, that's another blog. My vagina is now just as pathetic as yours so you can't turn on me. Get a grip!

Where was I? Oh, it all started with that stupid Depo shot. My husband would not get snipped (wuss). I even threatened to do it myself. I had some glow in the dark Spongebob bandaids, some peroxide, and snippers. Nothing would make him part with his poisonous baby sperm. I even agreed to let him have a stupid tattoo. Seriously, I was desperate to not get belly stretch marks and labor pains. After all I have done to my body to stop the reproductive process, he can't suck it up one time and get snipped.....GRRRRR. Anyway, I listened to my evil sister who refuses to get pregnant herself (I have disowned her in my will), and the girl I sit next to at work (you know who you are), and got the depo shot. I only got the shot twice but I gained 30 lbs in 3 months (oh joy - thanks for giving) and my hair was falling out among other bad things. I felt like I had injected poison into my body. I would personally like to know who invented that evil shot. It's probably the same person that stole my perfectly good, slightly used (cough), vagina. It's also probably the same person that invented the mammogram smush ur boobs in a vice machine (that's another blog too).

I didn't get my period for almost a 1 1/2 years after that. I admit, the lack of hemorrhaging was really really nice. I got to live like a man for 1 1/2 years and honestly it was good. It was like being in some kind of ignorant bliss haze. There was laughter, no cramps, and a decreased sense of taking responsibility for anything. That may have been the best 1 1/2 of my life. And then...the demon returned and hell hath no fury like ovaries that hath been scorned.

I'll stop there. I know...you're completely hooked on my effin vagina drama. You just can't get enough. Relax, I'll continue the story in a few weeks. Until then, feel free to comment about your vaginal drama or talk about someone who has none. I'm gonna go make my husband feel bad about not getting snipped. Don't feel bad for him. He earned it. Vagina out.