Talkin' 'bout 'ginas.... kinda

Hello Friends,

It's been a while since I've blogged, but, the time has come for a new one. My last blog took a little bit out of me, and things have been a bit rough lately so, my apologies for the lack of updates.

What should I start with?

VAGINA.

I'm gonna talk about vaginas.  Specifically mine.  Just a little bit.

As I type this I am imagining my male friends trying to close the window as fast as they can, but, don't worry boys... it won't be that bad. I won't even post any pictures.  Your manhood and dignity will remain intact.

We'll start out slow. I'll give you a warning before muff-talk starts.

I mentioned things have been rough.  They have been.  Way more difficult than I thought it would be. 

Over the last month or so I've been relentlessly getting non-Oscar-related-sick.

It started with an eye infection right before my friend Evan came to visit.  My routine "new glasses and contacts, please" doctor's appointment turned into an "oh my, you have a very serious infection of your cornea" visit instead and ended with a SUPER expensive set of eye drops.  This was annoying, but not horrible.

Then Evan came to town!  I was so happy to see him.  We spent one glorious day running around and having fun before disaster struck. 

Guys, this is where I start talking about my lady parts.  I'm FAIRLY sure that reading about it won't cause your dudely-jumbly man-bits to whither and fall off, but I understand you may have fears and it's okay if you want to close the window.

Day 2 of Evan's visit started out mildly uncomfortably which flared into "Sweet Mary, mother of god, what in the fresh fucking hell is happening to me?!" by midday.

An emergency trip to Planned Parenthood informed me that, while completely STD free, I had managed to develop a sweet-ass case of Bacterial Vaginosis (BV) AND a yeast infection.  Truly a powerhouse combo that can be linked to change in diet, or something. I have lived on this earth for 35 years and never had a single problem of this nature.  Ever.  And then?  That entire week it felt like my va-jay-jay was on fire AND covered in fiberglass... and also maybe bees. 

To fix the problem of the burning bush (see what I did there), I was given a 7 day course of an antibiotic called Flagyl. A giant pill I was to take twice daily with food.  After I finished that med I was given another pill to get rid of my little yeasty friends (affectionately dubbed the Yeastie Boys by Ells).  Poor, sweet Evan had to spend his vacation listening to me talk about my vagina and witnessing me live through one of the worst weeks I’ve had in a while.  The Flagyl made me sick almost constantly.  I could only take it if I broke it in two and even then it was lucky if it stayed down.  I was exhausted from the two infections and distinctly remember falling asleep mid conversation with him on at least one occasion.  Bless his sweet heart for taking care of me. He was a trooper, for sure.

I was able to kick the two infections (or so I thought) only to develop a UTI which involved another round of DIFFERENT antibiotics which was followed by another yeast infection and more BV.  *sigh* That part of my life was beyond exhausting but seems to have passed.  Let us all keep our fingers crossed that this is the last time I’ll have to discuss my vagina on my blog.

I’d say let’s hope I don’t have any further ailments, but it seems that JUST RECENTLY I have developed what I am about 99% sure is gout. Why?  Because “of course I did” that’s why.

It runs in my family, it’s super common after weight loss surgery due to the high protein diet and difficulties getting water in. I’m not surprised to have this hitch in the road.  What I AM surprised to discover is how freakishly fucking awfully bad it hurts. 

Oh My GOD. 

It’s been gathering force the last few days and this morning I was completely unable to sleep or walk. I couldn’t even bend any of my toes on my left foot.  I had to call in reinforcements to bring me meds because the thought of going to the store to get drugs was enough to make me openly weep. I'm much better at this point, but this morning I would have told you it was worse than the surgery and I would have been telling you the truth. THANKFULLY After a full day of sitting with my foot propped up and iced I’m finally able to wiggle my piggies and hobble around my apartment. 

Where was I going with this blog?  A two page bitch fest?  No… no no… I don’t think that was what I meant to do when I started, so let’s change it up.

THE GOOOOD STUFF!!!!!  

At this point in my weight loss journey, I have successfully lost somewhere between 80-90 pounds.  Which is... of course... an amazing success.  It's been just a bit over 2 months since my surgery and I've lost almost 1/2 the weight I've wanted to lose to reach my initial goal.

I'm finally seeing it in my waist.  EVIDENTLY the clothes I've been wearing for the past... however long it's been... have been WAY tighter than I thought they were.

I've been able to see it in my face for a while, but, lately something has changed.  I've been feeling better about myself.  I've been feeling... pretty.  It's made me realize that it's been a really long time since I've felt that way and I have to admit I like it.  I feel more open.  More confident. I won't say that it's perfect, and I'm hoping for even more as I go, but it's a good start.

Boy oh boy, I've needed it. It's helped me to see that, despite my problems lately, I'm on the right path.  This was the right thing to do.

In all honesty, in spite of my physical ailments, I have been feeling so blessed and lucky. Not because of the weight loss, but because I have such an amazing support system this has let me see it so clearly.

Wanna know what I see?  I see so much love.

Everybody wants to know what's going on.  They let me talk about everything ad nauseum and never stop asking me questions. Good questions.  Questions filled with curiosity and respect that come from the heart.

I can see love in the faces of my friends as they make sure to plan meals I can eat and watch me like mother hens to make sure that whatever I'm eating sits well with me.

They cut my chicken into little bites and cheer for me when I can eat a full cup of soup or serving of the delicious lunch they made with me in mind.  I get high fives for good food days and the knowledge that they  have spent time finding the perfect juicing recipes for someone with gastric bypass surgery.  They make sure to tell me how great I've been looking and that my new makeup is awesome. They see my changes and point out the best even when I can't see any of it myself.

It is beautiful and means the world to me.

If I were a poet, I'd write you all poems and shit.

Instead I'll just say this:  I love you guys.  I'd be lost without you.

Love,
Mamy