feminine charms

so i am seeing my crazy which doctor. she and i have several goals we are working towards. most of them i agree with except becoming a vegan like her. no thanks. we are weaning me off my antidepressant. we are bringing hormone levels within normal ranges...

well, over the past several months we have worked on raising my serotonin level. mission accomplished. her favorite phrase to tell me with every conversation is this, "90% of the serotonin in your body is found in your digestive tract." i've come to accept this as a fact, even though i haven't done an ounce of research to prove it.

so serotonin is good now. we must now work on dopamine. we switch pills around, eliminate some, add others - poof! a whole new cocktail is born. so i start this and about day 2 diarrhea hits. um, this poop condition rarely hits me. i'm always way on the other side of the poop spectrum. so i think i've caught a bug. by day 3 i realize it's my new cocktail. and then my boobs hurt tremendously.

i call the witch doctor. she tells me this is a side effect of coming off the antidepressant and my new meds. then i get the monthly visit. and this month happens to be gory.

so we go out to dinner tonight. my boobs hurt, i'm crampy, bloated, my intestines are twisting themselves in knots. basically from the belly button to my upper thighs...waging war on my body. it wasn't pretty.

we are wrapping up dinner at the restaurant when my intestines signal their hello. um, know this - i DON'T poop in public bathrooms. i poop in the great outdoors before i use a nasty public toilet "cleaned" by an ex-con with hepatitis. so my drive home is painful. i'm sweating from sheer will and concentration. we get home, the urge has momentarily subsided. i'm bringing stuff in from the car. all the kids have disappeared (not unusual).

and then....it hits. the urge is back. it's that way because your body knows you are home. in your own personal safe haven, my clean throne, toilet paper that i like, perfect ambiance, etc. i go the guest bathroom - taken, by mason. i head to my bathroom where i hear the shower running. taken, by cora. oh well, she'll have to bathe in my stinkiness - she does it to me at least once a week. i enter - she is pooping on my toilet. i briskly walk to the kid bathroom. the door is locked. i pound on it. cristian responds. what are you doing i yell? i need the bathroom NOW! he's pooping. oh my gosh, it's getting really bad. i start to panic. i gingerly descend the stairs. one false step and it could all be over. i pound on the guest bathroom. mason, what are you doing? are you pooping?! of course he is! oh my helena! i am writhing in pain and determination. my intestines are going to burst. my uterus is screaming in twisting agony. WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE TO POOH AT THE SAME TIME!! Carlos is laughing almost hysterically the whole time. i feel like squatting on his side of the bed and letting go. not. nice. hubby.

needless to say, sweet mason did his business as fast as he could. he even washed his hands in the kitchen to streamline his time.

i. about. died.