Lisa Gerardy's Blog, page 9

Depo Provera is FABULOUS!

Recently, I had to undergo an exploratory D&C to determine the cause of some rather nifty cramping and crime scene-level bleeding. The doctor discovered and removed some polyps, which helped a little with the cramping, but it didn’t solve the problem completely.

After the surgery, I met with my doctor to discuss options for eliminating my horrific perimenopausal symptoms once and for all. Since I’d suffered a deep vein thrombosis a few years prior, and because I am forty-plus, estrogen was not an option for me. Progesterone medications were my only non-surgical alternatives. After talking with my doctor, it seemed that the Depo-Provera shot was the best choice for me.

Like most people would, I decided to do a Google search to see what others had to say about Depo. Big mistake. It seemed like there were nothing but horror stories out there. Everyone talked about becoming fat and homicidal after getting the shot. One woman even said she wanted to kill her kids when she was on Depo. Since I’m already chubby and mildly grouchy, this worried me.

Then I made another mistake. I reached out to my Facebook friends. I specifically asked if anyone had anything POSITIVE to say about Depo. Most people told me I would bleed to death, binge on Skittles, and growl. Terrific.

Still, despite what I’d discovered on the Internet, I chose to get the Depo-Provera shot. I was really nervous when I went in for my first one, but I’ve actually had five now, and guess what? I have not gained ANY weight at all, and I feel happier, not angrier. In addition to this overall sense of well-being, I’ve noticed a few more great side effects of Depo:

1. Energy. Depo-Provera makes me feel more focused and energized. I’m able to get work projects done more quickly, and I don’t feel as physically tired during the day. I tend to be a Type A person anyway, and the Depo kicks my obsessive-compulsive disorder up a notch. The Type B people out there might see this as a bad thing, but it works for me. I completely scrub out my refrigerator and freezer shortly after receiving each quarterly shot.

2. No Foreign Objects. For some reason, the medical community—as well as a lot of women my age—have a collective hard-on for the intrauterine device (IUD). I personally cannot say “NOPE” enough to that concept. As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, I am simply not comfortable with someone, even a medical professional, shoving a foreign object past my cervix and into my uterus. It would be too traumatic. This is why I had to have a D&C instead of an in-office, wide-awake uterine biopsy.

Even if the doctor could get an IUD inside me, my anxiety would never allow me to stop fixating on it. Any little stomach pain and I would assume that the IUD was gouging my innards or migrating someplace where it wasn’t supposed to be. Other than the brief poke of a needle, Depo-Provera does not necessitate a foreign object being placed into my body.

3. Endometriosis. I haven’t been officially diagnosed with endometriosis, because it’s a tricky diagnosis—it can hide in the Fallopian tubes or even the colon. However, my mother had endometriosis, and I have many of the symptoms, so my doctor recommended the Depo shot for me as a treatment for endometriosis, too. We are covering birth control, perimenopausal bleeding and cramping, and possible endometriosis all in one little shot. Yes, please.

4. Three Months. I only have to deal with taking this medication four times a year. Each shot lasts three months. When I was on the pill, I used to forget to take it sometimes. Also, if I took it on an empty stomach, I would get nauseated. Who has time for that impending puke feeling? Not this girl.

In short, my Depo experience has been fabulous. I’m so glad I didn’t listen to the numerous dramatic warnings from well-meaning people. Everyone’s body is different: birth control pills with a high amount of estrogen always made me bleed like crazy; some people gain a lot of weight on progesterone. This is why you should only take advice from your doctor, not your 4,765 Facebook “friends.” For me, Depo is a gift. It is the only thing that really works. My doctor tells me I can stay on it until menopause, and that makes me so happy.

Originally published on In The Powder Room in November, 2015.

Filed under: Snarcasm Tagged: bleeding, Depo Provera, endometriosis, Perimenopause, periods

Resolutions I Can Actually Keep

Like a lot of you out there, I make resolutions every New Year’s Eve.  I usually don’t publish them, or talk about them, because I know myself and I know I will fail at each and every one of them.  This is because I have some mental block that makes me do more of whatever […] Read more...

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Christmas Wrapping with the Cat

[image error] Are we running out of ribbon?!

That says WRAPPING, not rapping. So, if you came here to see me sing a down and funky Christmas tune with Andre, you will be sadly disappointed. Andre can’t rap, and he also can’t wrap, but he at least tries to do the second. By tries to wrap, I mean that he likes to “kill” just about everything that is needed to wrap a present. Of course, I could just go into a room and close the door and wrap presents without a cat jumping on everything that moves, but WHERE would the challenge be? I’m pretty sure I burn about ten extra calories a minute just from moving the cat and redoing things. So, I have become an expert on this, and I would like to help you learn to wrap your presents and still be a loving kitty mama or papa.

It’s simple, really. Here’s how you wrap presents with a kitty, in 70 short steps:

Take out wrapping paper
Unroll paper
Grab first gift
Put gift down next to paper
Remove cat from on top of wrapping paper
Put gift on paper
Take cat off of gift
Cut out chunk of wrapping paper with cat teeth marks in it.
Wrap gift, taping paper as you go.
Notice cat fur on tape.
Try to peel tape off of paper.
Push cat off of package.
Try to pick cat fur out of tape
End up getting nail polish on the tape, too.
Remove tape, ripping paper
Throw used, furry tape aside
Wad up paper and throw in trash.
Notice cat has tape stuck on paw.
Chase the cat to remove tape from paw.
Tell the dog to stop chasing the cat with you.
Grab cat and remove tape from cat’s paw.
Go back to wrapping room.
Unroll paper.
Put present on paper.
Cut paper.
Almost stab cat with scissors after he jumps on paper.
Move cat off of paper.
Wrap and tape gift.
Take out ribbon
Remove ribbon from cat’s mouth

[image error]I like the skinny ribbon better! I know it’s in here!
Cut bitten part of ribbon off.
Get a Lysol wipe to clean cat spit off of scissors that touched ribbon.
Push cat away with left foot while leaning right to tie ribbon.
Wipe cat spit from ribbon.
Shriek in pain after cat bites left foot.
Apply alcohol and Band-aid to left foot.
Hope the gift receiver is not allergic to cats
Notice your foot is still bleeding.
Call your husband from your cell phone even though he is downstairs.
Go to the hospital to get stitches in your foot.
Return from hospital with an antibiotic prescription
Hobble upstairs to the wrapping room.
Close the door so the cat cannot HELP.
Listen to the cat beat on the door and yowl.
Open the door and let the damn cat in.
Call your husband on the phone again and ask for a stiff drink.
Gulp down drink and grab the next present.
Notice you have Christmas gift bags.
Open a bag.
Reach for tissue to put in bag.
Notice cat is in bag.
Lure cat out of bag with tissue paper.
Grab wrapping paper.
Grab present.
Realize you never put a nametag on the first present.
Unwrap first present because you forgot whom it was for.
Throw first present in gift bag after removing cat again.
Put tissue paper in gift bag.
Remove that one wet piece of tissue.
Throw wet tissue in trash.
Wash hands, hoping it was only cat spit again.
Get more tissue.
Put tissue in bag.
Call for another drink.
Grab second present.
Notice it is for your son.
Grab roll of Santa paper.
Unroll paper.
Accidentally bonk cat on head with present while racing him to the paper.
Move unconscious cat over and finish wrapping.

[image error]Where’s that bag?

See! It’s really not tough to get your present wrapping done and be a loving pet parent. Kitties like being involved in everything. Whoever said they just ignore you probably never had a cat. Happy Holidays from Andre and me!

Disclaimer: While this was based on a true story, Andre was never unconscious, and I never had to go to the hospital. The rest is true. Liz, there is cat spit on your present, girl.

Update: Andre passed away on January 4, 2017.  I miss him so much. 

Filed under: Snarcasm Tagged: cats, Christmas, Wrapping

Election 2016 Breakups: So NOT about “Politics”

Election 2016 was rough for anyone with critical thinking skills and a working knowledge of U.S. and World History. It divided our already divided country even more.  As usual, this division is most evident on Mark Zuckerberg’s brain sucking site.  People, including me, are unfriending some of their most vocal Trump supporting “friends.”  Others are […] Read more...

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Five Fantastic Things about this F@#$ed up Election

Let’s face it.  Most of us are in fetal position under our desks while flipping through cocktail recipes on the Internet today. This election has been rough.  Bigly rough. Both parties have been nervous about the other side’s candidate winning.  Everyone seems to have forgotten that there are three branches of government and that the […] Read more...

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Forget the Reaper; I Fear the Doorbell

I have had Don’t Fear the Reaper stuck in my head today.  Maybe it’s because it is almost Halloween, that spooky darkness and death time of the year, or maybe it’s because I see a graveyard whenever I look out my back window.  Seriously, my house backs up to a graveyard.  This is actually what […] Read more...

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Corey Feldman’s Gothic Meltdown

Unless you have given up all things screen and only entertain yourself with fine literature and herbal tea, you have probably heard that Corey Feldman is trying to have a music career. If you haven’t seen Corey’s “performance” from Friday’s Today Show, you need to go watch this with the sound up.  Frightening, right? When […] Read more...

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Allies in Atheism

Of the hundreds of blogs I’ve written, my most popular pieces are Atheism 101 and Bobby Kent and My Anxious Parenting. This kind of shocks me because, for the most part, I am a humor blogger and a sometimes YA novelist.  It was even more shocking when the meme from the Atheism 101 blog was […] Read more...

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Seven Reasons I will Never Be President

Like a lot of you, I am really HATING this election.  Usually, whenever there is a presidential election there is one candidate you really like and will definitely vote for.  Then, there is the other person that you don’t like that much but could still deal with as president.  This election is DIFFERENT.  So different.  There is one person with a lot of experience who is qualified to be the president, but has a few scandals, either real or false, to tarnish her reputation.  On the other side, there is a Cheeto-dusted, twice divorced, corporate racist ass who uses inflammatory language that will likely get us nuked.  We should probably all just stay intoxicated until November 9, and possibly for the four years after that.

I’m not here to tell you who to vote for. If you took eighth-grade Civics and did not fall asleep in History class, you probably know who is going to get your vote.  I’m also not here to write a big analysis of the candidates because that would require a lot of research and interfere with cat-cuddling and reading time.  Really, I admire all of the candidates running for president, even Jill Stein, because running for president is HARD.  And if the campaign is this hard, I can only imagine how impossible the actual job is.  Since I am a non-competitive, anxious hermit, I will never run for president, and here are my reasons.

I like being comfortable.

I’m not putting on a bra and traveling all over the country in uncomfortable shoes and a cloud of hairspray. Something tells me that yoga pants, a t-shirt, bathrobe, and slippers will never take the place of monochromatic suits on the campaign trail.  This makes me sad.

I’m an atheist. 

Not believing in the invisible man in the sky is not popular with American voters. Presidents and candidates must at least pretend to love the baby Jesus, his virgin mama, his daddy God, and his step-dad Joseph.  If I were remotely honest about my belief system, some whack job would use a literal interpretation of a holy book as a reason to stone me to death with bullets. No thanks. I will just stay on my couch and avoid death.

I change my mind.

It is considered dishonest if a candidate changes his or her mind. They are just supposed to maintain the same beliefs no matter what new information they receive.  If I were running, the opposition would post a side by side video of me saying “I don’t like chocolate” with one of me eating a truffle in some small candy shop in a small town in Ohio.  My explanation of “but this is DARK chocolate not crappy Hersey’s stuff” would not be acceptable.  I would be labeled anti-Hersey and thus not a real Murican.  I used to love white wine; now, I think red wine is the only palatable fermented grape drink.  This, too, would work against me.

I have IBS. 

And it’s stressed induced.  As soon as a debate would start, I would run for the bathroom.  If I actually won, I would conduct all really serious meetings from the presidential throne.  I would have to live on rice and broth during the campaign.  During any international crisis, I would probably have to be hooked up to IV’s.  The good news is that I would finally achieve my goal weight.

I’m a germaphobe.

I’m not shaking anyone’s hand or holding anyone’s pukey baby unless it is through a lot of plastic.  It’s probably frowned upon to wear rubber gloves and a hazmat suit to campaign events. I’m guessing a full-on diving mask would be even more unacceptable.  Forget it.  I’m not risking catching the flu just so I can lead the free world.

I’m an introvert. 

We are known for being exhausted by crowds of people.  We also aren’t big talkers. So, the whole giving speeches thing would be tough for me as there would be people and words. So many words.  I would just want to post blogs instead of actually speak.  I don’t think the American people would go for that.  Also, I need a lot of alone time.  So, having Secret Service crammed up my ass for months on end would give me anxiety attacks.

I use colorful language.

By colorful, I mean I say fuck a lot.  To a lot of people out there, saying fuck is similar to murdering kittens and beating toddlers.  Because “bad” language is what we should get our spanx up our cracks about, not the fact that there are almost daily shootings in this here good ole U.S.A.

Well, that about sums it up. There is really no political career in my future.  I won’t be running for president, or congress, or even book club president.  What about you? Have you ever thought about running for president? Leave me a comment and tell me about it.

 

 

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Anxiety on the Yoga Mat

I love doing yoga. It is really the only group class I will do at the gym.  The others are full of loud club music and too much yelling about being pumped.  Yoga is a quiet relaxing class.  Well, it is SUPPOSED to be relaxing, but as my fellow anxiety sufferers know, NOTHING is relaxing when your brain is constantly bullying you.  I’m supposed to be focusing on my breathing and relaxing into stretches.  Instead, I’m fielding a never-ending string of disruptive thoughts.  Here they are in no particular order.

Quiet the mind? I can never quiet my mind. OMG! I’m doing yoga wrong.

I wonder if I can catch a virus from this strap or the blocks. I should just buy my own so I don’t need to touch other people’s germs.

I don’t want to put my feet or hands off my mat onto the floor. People walk with shoes on the floor.  There are a lot of germs on shoes.

I should probably clean this mat with Lysol.

I should clean my hands and feet with Lysol, too.

I could get athlete’s foot.

They I would have scaly alligator feet.

Why didn’t Disney have fences and alligator signs? That poor little boy.

Why didn’t all of these know-it-all parents say something to them that night? A simple “Hey, there might be gators in there” could have saved him.

I wonder if prices at the Grand Floridian will go down.  $600 a night to have a gator snatch your kid is a bit ridiculous.

My stomach hurts.

Man, I have no core strength at all.  I have GOT to do more planks at home.

I should have had coffee before coming here.  I just want to get to savasana already.

I can barely hear her.  Are my hearing aids working? What if I’m in the wrong pose?

If I’m in the wrong pose, she will correct me.  I hate it when yoga teachers touch me. I jump.

Seriously, another downward dog?  I think I’m going to barf. I knew I should not have eaten before coming here.

What if I have to fart?

And it’s a really smelly fart, like a hardboiled egg fart?

Oh no. Did I eat eggs today?

What if I have to poop?

Do I just grab my mat and run out of the room?

If I brought my yoga mat into the bathroom here I would have to set it on fire to get rid of the invisible urine and fecal germs.

Why didn’t I leave my socks on? I will probably catch athlete’s foot for sure.

I hate the big mirror.  I look like an oompa loompa.

Why are my arms so freckled?

I think I need to wear more sunscreen.

What if I get skin cancer?

Maybe I should just use spray tan.

But then I might turn orange.

I hope Donald Trump does not win.

I swear it will be World War Three if he wins.

He’s like a Nazi.

Who are these monkeys who are actually voting for him?

Did they not take history in school?

Our education system has gone downhill.

Oh my God; she is grabbing me and moving my hips around.  I feel violated.

I will have to remember to do this right next time. I’m not doing yoga right.

How can anyone relax with all of these thoughts?  Maybe I should have a drink before yoga class.  How about you guys?  Anyone out there who takes yoga without letting your mind wander into darkness? Leave me a comment.  Let’s wave our crazy flags.

Be quiet, mind!!

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