I went to see my doctor today about my continuing allergic reaction and stumbled sorely away with a hiney-shot of Solumedrol and a prescription for Yaz birth control. The Solumedrol was obviously given to clear up my itchy head and spotty throat. The Yaz was given to clear up my bitchy disposition once a month.
It's a win-win, I say. For you, for me, and for anyone I could possibly ever come into contact with during PMS week.
For years I have fought against medicine and pain relievers, except in the event of near-asphyxiation by orchids or that pesky ovarian cyst (I named her Cyssie) that crawled into my fallopian tube and threatened massive internal bleeding. And while Wellbutrin played a huge role in my postpartum care and attacked my anxiety levels to the point that I could drive across bridges, I still took myself off of it by believing I could get over my own problems by fixing my own problems. For the most part, it worked.
Yet I still walked away wondering why doctors don't first recommend other solutions. When I was pregnant, I was scheduled to take the glucose test and argued with the nurses that I could not possibly down that much syrup in so little time. I ended up waiving the test only to later be notified that a certain brand of jellybeans contains just as much sugar as the glucose drink if eaten in large amounts. A few years after that, I suffered from dangerously low blood pressure to the point of passing out. It happened at the copy machine, in the parking lot, and at the coffee stand inside the mall. The doctor's solution? DRUGS!!! I refused and demanded he find another solution. I am skinny enough and healthy enough at this point to medicate myself with potato chips since a high-sodium diet was recommended.
Not too long ago, I noticed my personality becoming aggressive and downright mean during PMS week. I eat everything in sight (after I yell at it, of course). My jaws are sore in the morning from clenching all throughout the night before and I cry alot. CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY!!! Irrational decisions are made, feelings are hurt (mine and others'), simple things are forgotten, people get screamed at, and I just stop giving a crap. When the kid yells, I yell back. When the dog barks, I bark back. I beat myself up emotionally by calling myself names, I criticize my accomplishments and my bank account, and generally stop caring about myself. But, so far, I've been able to convince myself not to run dumbass drivers off the road, even if they do deserve it! Then it all goes away, until next month. Ugh! The worst part about it is knowing it's going to keep coming back.
No wonder I'm single. I'm a freakin' psycho.
Let's hope this Yaz stuff works because we all deserve some happiness. Especially the people who have to deal with me during PMS week. See how selfless I can be??