Hippies Use Backdoor

I must say that after my stay in the hospital that whenever I have kids… I’m having a natural birth. At home. In a tub. No more tubes and needles for me.

So Sunday night I had the world’s worst gas. Incredibly lady-like, I know.

I could literally lie on my back and watch my belly move because of the air inside of it. Eventually watching my belly move lost its entertainment value and I got to sleep. The next morning I woke up at six because my lower right quadrant of my abdomen hurt. A lot.

A lot a lot.

And I was puking, and it was sexy, right?

Around nine o’clock I finally woke up J and asked him to poke where I hurt -He used to be in the medical field. Well, he poked, and sure enough I added a coin or two to the swear jar. It was my appendix-area, so we dressed and drove to Urgent Care.

We arrived at Urgent Care and after being hit on by the male receptionist I saw a doctor. He agreed it was my appendix and sent us to the emergency room. We made our way over to the hospital, J dropped me off at the door and I waddled over to the front desk in tears. The doctor at the ER desk asked me what was wrong, I told him my appendix hurt and handed him the sheet from Urgent Care.

He handed me a pager and sent me over to the nurse, I saw the nurse, registered, and then sat in the waiting room with my pager. A few minutes after J left me for his work my pager went off. They had apparently moved me ahead in line.

I headed on over to the front desk where I was passed off to a young doctor. He led me over to a little curtained room just big enough for a bed. I panicked as he told me to undress while he prepared my IV. Was I going in for surgery? I had no idea what was going on.

I was quickly carted over to an actual room with walls instead of curtains in the pediatrics ward in my sexy hospital gown. There I was given morphine. Wow. Morphine… Definitely knocked me on my ass. My team of doctors made fun of me, apparently I was cute trying to find my words as they added the drug to my IV cocktail.

The rest of the day was somewhat of a blur as you can imagine, I’m sure. I was carted from doctor to doctor by young gentlemen from what was called “the delivery service.” I do know, that my vagina was inspected three different times. -They had also listed ovarian cysts as a possibility. I got an ultrasound done, and then a cat scan. It was neither my ovaries, nor my appendix. There was however, air, lots of free air. And an infection… Which would explain my recent “hot flashes.”

Anyway, I was eventually taken back to my kid-sized pediatric room and there awaited my father. The Big Red and I hung out for awhile and he sat with me as the team of surgeons poked, prodded, and discussed. They opted to hold off on surgery, or a laparoscopy, instead they said they’d keep me for a night as observation. …One night my ass… (Three days!)

J got off work early and hustled over to be with me and then I was carted to my room by the delivery boy who I would later unintentionally moon… Along with the rest of the hall. Oopsies…

Turns out I got just about the nicest room in the hospital. I’ll post photos later. It was a one patient room with a bathroom and an excellent view. -Even though it wasn’t in the pediatric ward And this is where I’m stopping for now…

To Be Continued.

I’m in the hospital for awhile

the doctors don’t know what’s wrong

there’s a hole somewhere… they think.

Wish me luck.

I was taught how to play the guitar about 12 years ago by an old rock-star from London. He was a tall skinny man with long ratted hair and weathered fingers. I can still remember him handing over his full-sized electric guitar to my tiny 6 year-old self. It seemed huge at the time, heavy, and the strings hurt my fingers horribly. That was lesson number one.

Many fond memories are attached to those old steel strings and wooden body. Even my memories of playing from my home-on-wheels (’68 bug) are pleasant. There have been three guitars in my life and all three represent very different stages.

The first one was a little Wally-World guitar. It was a right-handed acoustic that we restrung for my lefty-self. I had it from the time I was 6 until I was 12. That was a hard period for my parents. They had recently divorced and between crazy lovers and finding new ground they were both struggling. It was the 90’s, and I was a badass in a Hanson cover band.

After skipping the 8th grade my grandpa sent me “congrats” money and I purchased a larger guitar, still a righty, still cheap, but to me the most beautiful thing. It was mine until I was 16. Those four years were definitely a challenge. To sum it up quickly: I partied too hard, drank too much, took too many pills. My parents were over-bearing and I was a brat.

Around my junior year I finally settled down. I finally met some friends who were actually decent people. We were a group of seven. So tightly bound, anyone could tell you we had something special. I’ll save the rest about that for a later post… But we were all musicians.

The spring of my junior year my friend M and I went out to get new guitars. Unfortunately I was currently supporting myself financially and could not afford it. I’m really lucky come to think of it. One of the guys in our group, A, worked at the guitar shop. He and the rest of the guys picked out my guitar while I was at work and J paid the down-payment for me. They were all supportive, and caring, that’s how we were. Without them I wouldn’t be where I am and I certainly wouldn’t have this guitar.

M and I wound up getting Art & Lutherie guitars. Same model, hers a righty, mine a southpaw. Both in a beautiful deep cedar. I can’t not think about M or the group when I play. Even after our group split up due to… unfortunate events … I still found/find great comfort in my new guitar.

The next year J was gone for the military and everyone else had moved away. That fall/winter I essentially lived in my car. -Some times more literally than others. I’d drive out to my evening camp-out location and would just sit in the back of my car writing songs for hours. And I felt safe, I felt secure, I felt comforted.

This past year has been busy busy busy. Between college, work, and my carpal tunnel (which, has gotten way better since my last day of work.) I haven’t been playing. But yesterday I pulled it out.

My wrists hurt, my finger tips are tender, and I suck… But jesus am I happy.

I’m trying to figure out what the purpose of this post is. Every blog I try to share something I’ve learned, or something that has somehow made me a more well-rounded person.

I guess… I hope that by writing this someone will be inspired to find something that can make them feel comforted, something that can make them cry tears of joy even when they’re living out of their car in the dead of winter.

Find that something, and don’t let it go. Even if it is just a chunk of wood and some steel strings.

Noon until 10 pm yesterday was spent on my new little cruiser.

Now my already nerve-damaged vagine (vuh-zheen) is numb. -This happens sometimes.

Seeing as I’m planning on logging a few more miles than normal I purchased a Terry saddle. It’s wide enough for my child-bearing hips with a nice little gap for the vag to relax and enjoy time off. It’s shipping from Portland so hopefully it’ll get here fast.

Can I write this off as a health expense? I get to write vibrators off as physical therapy now (vaginismus, yo), why not a saddle? /sarcasm

Yesterday wasn’t nearly as terrifying as I had planned it on being. I could tell you that the doctors had fangs and wore pointy hats but they didn’t. To skip the section about my journey there jump ahead two paragraphs.

After completing my final day of work (yay!) I hurried to OHSU. Took all the right turns until exit 1C came about…. And then missed it while reading my directions. Damn. For those of you who don’t know yet, I get lost EVERYWHERE. It’s horrible, I went to Washington on accident on my first day of work, but anyway

I wound up at OMSI until I finally asked two nice runners how on earth to get back on track. They drew me a map and I was back on my way. But I want to ask the construction workers and engineers, Why did you make it so difficult to get up that damn hill? It’s very twisty with odd turns. And when they say to give yourself 20-30 minutes for parking -They aren’t joking. …I suppose it doesn’t help that I parked on the other side of campus.

All in all I’m pretty satisfied with how the appointment went. The nurse told me that these “clinics” happen on Wednesdays and Thursdays each week, and apparently doctors and patients come to this particular clinic from all over the West coast. Crazy.

I had two doctors in there, one who I think was from the East coast and then the OHSU doc. They asked a bunch of questions, and were particularly curious as to my menstrual cup. I guess not as many people use the cup as I had thought, I’ll tell you more about it in a later entry. They wanted me to take it out in the room and… That wasn’t happening.

After taking out the cup I got all propped up on the table and they handed me a mirror. I hate it when doctors make me look at my cooter with a mirror. J always says I have a pretty one; but when it’s all spread open and gaping at me I’m left wondering why any guy would want to put his love pipe up that cavity.

They numbed it and poked around a little. As it turns out I’m fairly treatable! Yay! I’ve been prescribed with a numbing ointment and physical therapy. That’s right ladies and gentlemen, I’m getting prescribed with fancy vibrators.

After the exam and I was smeared with blood and numbing ointment I had to go to the bathroom to wipe up and put the cup back in. Now this task was much more difficult than it needed to be. Essentially… I wound up running down the hallway with two paper skirts held around my waist by my doctor… Barefoot with clothes and tote in hand.

“You have a nice poofy dress just like prom,” she commented.

“Sorry doc, you’re nice and all but we make horrible dancing partners.”

They gave me tons of reading material and a specified diagnosis: Vestibulitis and Vaginismus.

Most of it just refers to my specific diagnosis and if you have any questions regarding it feel free to email me but otherwise I’ll just leave that part out. But they did give me a sheet with suggestions that you guys may or may not find useful.

1. “If there is any sexual or sensual activity, where you are confident that you can be comfortable and pain-free. What are they?”

Take a few moments to think about this questions. Then talk with your partner on your thoughts.

2. Talk, share, instruct one another about what is and could be comfortable sexual and sensual encounters.

3. Sex is more than intercourse. Increase and indulge your sexual repertoire.

4. Use lubricant liberally. I recommend System Jo H20’s water based lube. -Condom safe and excellent for ladies with flora imbalances (yeast, bacterial vaginitis) or sensitive genitalia.

5. Physical therapy with a practitioner who specializes in gyecological disorders and treatment.

6. At-home biofeedback with vaginal dilators.

7. Stress reduction with special focus on the pelvic floor muscles.

8. Couples counseling.

9. Male partners: Take care of your own sexuality. Be careful about habitual patterns. (ejaculating quickly, being intercourse-focused.)

Wow, that was a wordy post. Hopefully someone got some benefit from it.

Happy May ya’ll.

-C

I go into OHSU today. They’re going to do a biopsy among other things.

Ugh, I’m nervous. Someone wanna go with me?

Hopefully everyone who is reading this has experienced Etsy, and if you haven’t. Well, what are you waiting for? It’s a virtual Saturday Market, I have it linked on the left beneath Red Lamp as well.

Anyway, I could go on and on about the many wonderful soaps, accessories, and fibre I have purchased there but I’m currently being blessed with the wonderful scents of spring thanks to (the very reasonably priced) Loreto. I’ve spent the past year or so on the hunt for a spring scent… You know, when all the flowers are in bloom and it’s just warm enough outside to mesh all of those scents together? Mmmm… Heaven.

I told Loreto my predicament and she went straight to it. Yesterday, oh hellish yesterday, was made all better by the lovely little package I received from her. There was a beautiful postcard included as well.

Even if you aren’t interested in a spring scent, or in a scent at all I highly suggest checking out her shop anyway. She hand knits hats and also includes a few sewn items that are all very eco-friendly! -Perfumes and hand knit hats, perfect for mother’s day, no? Oh, and a little love for Mother Nature

Here’s a few words I snagged from her shop description,

“A line of deconstructed clothing, jewelry, aromatherapy products and handknit accessories for those who create their own style, regardless of what’s trendy. Inspired by color, rhythm, diversity, love and nature. Unique in every sense of the word. Our philosophy: If you like it, and it looks good, wear it, even if it wasn’t in the pages of a magazine.

Respecting our planet with handmade items using recycled cloth, jewelry, yarn, etc. We only use natural materials in our handknits such as soy, hemp and wool. The perfume and aromatherapy line is 100% vegan. Our perfume blends contain 90% pure essential oils with 10% fragrance oils in a jojoba oil or alcohol base. All bath and body products are made fresh to order.“

So before you grab your next perfume from Victoria’s Secret or Misc Name Brand Here consider not only our planet, but the wonderful and talented people who inhabit it. I’d rather send my money toward fantabulous people such as Loreto instead of giant corporations. But… That’s just me.

Go check her out. Now.

Today I bought a commuter. One that fits -Finally.

It’s a Dunelt female specific 3 speed beater, looks like a chic Schwinn Varsity. Kinda.

Except 10 pounds lighter. It’s one of those bikes that you can’t quite decide if it’s just cheap or has a cool quirk to it. I’ve concluded it’s badass. A whole $50 worth of badass. -Less than one week’s worth of gas. Here come the savings…

I took it for a five mile ride around “the hood” and couldn’t help but grin the entire time.

I’m thinking of getting a front basket and a sweet bell to drive everyone nuts with.

This one looks pretty… A whole $18 dollars of pretty. If anyone wants to buy it for me my half birthday is coming up.

Don’t tell my SO, but I think I enjoy riding it more than my $2,300 roadie.

PS Will have photos to share, and even maybe a name for it… Exciting.

Today I learned to follow my gut.

Leave class early when you suspect your home may go up in flames.

10 people googled “i woke up to my boss standing before me” today and got me

Why are people googling “i woke up to my boss standing before me”?