Saturday, February 8, 2014

(Source: eugenetrepanier)

(Source: downeyo)

So I finally went to urgent care over this stupid menstrual bleeding that wont stop. This urgent care facility is actually run by my insurance company and it’s really nice. It was around 3pm on a Friday and people were still at work so I got in pretty quick. After describing my issues and history with the nurse, I saw the same doctor who saw me when I came in early last year for that weird skin rash I had that ended up being pityriasis rosea (which I still have scars from btw). She is this slight Slavic woman with very friendly eyes and incredibly long eyelashes. After listening to me describe the issues I’ve been having, asking me a few pointed questions, she decided that it was simply ‘dysfunctional uterine bleeding’, and since I was currently spotting a pelvic exam wasn’t going to tell her much. But she wanted to run some blood work and take a urine sample. She also felt around on my lower abdomen and didn’t find anything unusual.The nurse came in and tried unsuccessfully to find a viable vein in each arm. Apparently, I have very tiny veins. She finally had to settle for the top of my hand, which had veins standing out bright blue.after that came the pee, and since I’m already pee shy, that equally difficult. I ended up peeing all over hand and the cup. I wiped it off as best I could, but with the label already on there, it wasn’t too successful. The pee came back saying I was not pregnant (good thing since it’s been quite a while since I’ve had sex) and the blood said I was not anemic.She gave me a prescriptions for some high dose oral hormones that should stop the bleeding and let my uterine lining build up long enough to have a normal period. She also gave me the coveted referral I’ve been needing to finally make an appointment with an OB/GYN. When I follow up with the GYN, I’m probably going to get an ultrasound to check for fibroids, which my urgent care doctor said could be a possibility but didn’t have the equipment there to check. I need a whole general pelvic exam too cause I haven’t had one in like 6 years. 
Then I went to Zia’s and bought a few records (Hunx & His Punks, Street Punx and The Crystals, He’s A Rebel (which includes He Hit Me)), and then to Target to get a few groceries and pick up the last item for my mister’s birthday next week. 
I came home only want to crash out in bed, have a snack, take my ‘script and chug some water, but I ended up having to chase down like 50 flies that were in my living room first. 
Tomorrow I hope to do nearly nothing. Maybe do a little laundry so I have some chonies to wear and hopefully take a bath if the bleeding has stopped enough. That is it.

So I finally went to urgent care over this stupid menstrual bleeding that wont stop.
This urgent care facility is actually run by my insurance company and it’s really nice. It was around 3pm on a Friday and people were still at work so I got in pretty quick.
After describing my issues and history with the nurse, I saw the same doctor who saw me when I came in early last year for that weird skin rash I had that ended up being pityriasis rosea (which I still have scars from btw). She is this slight Slavic woman with very friendly eyes and incredibly long eyelashes. After listening to me describe the issues I’ve been having, asking me a few pointed questions, she decided that it was simply ‘dysfunctional uterine bleeding’, and since I was currently spotting a pelvic exam wasn’t going to tell her much. But she wanted to run some blood work and take a urine sample. She also felt around on my lower abdomen and didn’t find anything unusual.
The nurse came in and tried unsuccessfully to find a viable vein in each arm. Apparently, I have very tiny veins. She finally had to settle for the top of my hand, which had veins standing out bright blue.
after that came the pee, and since I’m already pee shy, that equally difficult. I ended up peeing all over hand and the cup. I wiped it off as best I could, but with the label already on there, it wasn’t too successful.
The pee came back saying I was not pregnant (good thing since it’s been quite a while since I’ve had sex) and the blood said I was not anemic.
She gave me a prescriptions for some high dose oral hormones that should stop the bleeding and let my uterine lining build up long enough to have a normal period. She also gave me the coveted referral I’ve been needing to finally make an appointment with an OB/GYN.
When I follow up with the GYN, I’m probably going to get an ultrasound to check for fibroids, which my urgent care doctor said could be a possibility but didn’t have the equipment there to check. I need a whole general pelvic exam too cause I haven’t had one in like 6 years.

Then I went to Zia’s and bought a few records (Hunx & His Punks, Street Punx and The Crystals, He’s A Rebel (which includes He Hit Me)), and then to Target to get a few groceries and pick up the last item for my mister’s birthday next week.

I came home only want to crash out in bed, have a snack, take my ‘script and chug some water, but I ended up having to chase down like 50 flies that were in my living room first.

Tomorrow I hope to do nearly nothing. Maybe do a little laundry so I have some chonies to wear and hopefully take a bath if the bleeding has stopped enough. That is it.

Friday, February 7, 2014

lung-darts:

is nobody going to point out that SHE SPELLED THERE WRONG

(Source: mcguirkthejerk)

The Bodies of Saints: Skeletons of Christian saints decorated by the church following their 1578 discovery nested within Roman catacombs - relocated to Germany, Austria, and Switzerland for protection in later centuries [The Guardian, 2013]

Image Sources: Wired, The Guardian

A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh.
He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands
and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs.
I made sure to jab him in the side with my pretty little sharp purse.
At first he opened his mouth like I expected him to, but instead of speaking up he sat there, quiet, and took it for the whole bus ride.
Like a girl.

Once, a boy said my anger was cute, and he laughed,
and I remember thinking that I should sit there and take it,
because it isn’t ladylike to cause a scene and girls aren’t supposed to raise their voices.
But then he laughed again and all I saw
was my pretty little sharp nails digging into his cheek
before drawing back and making a horribly unladylike fist.
(my teacher informed me later that there is no ladylike way of making a fist.)

When we were both in the principal’s office twenty minutes later
him with a bloody mouth and cheek, me with skinned knuckles,
I tried to explain in words that I didn’t have yet
that I was tired of having my emotions not taken seriously
just because I’m a girl.

Girls are taught: be small, so boys can be big.
Don’t take up any more space than absolutely necessary.
Be small and smooth with soft edges
and hold in the howling when they touch you and it hurts:
the sandpaper scrape of their body hair that we would be shamed for having,
the greedy hands that press too hard and too often take without asking permission.

Girls are taught: be quiet and unimposing and oh so small
when they heckle you with their big voices from the window of a car,
because it’s rude to scream curse words back at them, and they’d just laugh anyway.
We’re taught to pin on smiles for the boys who jeer at us on the street
who see us as convenient bodies instead of people.

Girls are taught: hush, be hairless and small and soft,
so we sit there and take it and hold in the howling,
pretend to be obedient lapdogs instead of the wolves we are.
We pin pretty little sharp smiles on our faces instead of opening our mouths,
because if we do we get accused of silly women emotions
blowing everything out of proportion with our PMS, we get
condescending pet names and not-so-discreet eyerolls.

Once, I got told I punched like a girl.
I told him, Good. I hope my pretty little sharp rings leave scars.

'My Perfume Doubles As Mace,' theappleppielifestyle.

(Source: theappleppielifestyle)

vinylistangible:

Jack and Meg are meant for each other. I have never seen Jack happier with anyone else besides her. Not Alison. Not even Karen. I hope that they grow old together, as best friends, and continue to love each other for eternity.

(Source: youmakemefeelalittleolder)

Thursday, February 6, 2014

(Source: skindeeptales)