TMI Thursday: The itch that cannot be scratched

As the hilarious Lilu always says***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Make sure you check back to Lilu’s Archives… You will laugh your ass off!

Ok people, you know the rules. If you are in any way related to me, have a high opinion of me, get grossed out easily, or most importantly- are of the male variety- it might be a good idea for you to leave now.

Like really…This one is not for ones who are easily grossed out… skiddadle!

Too far? Perhaps.

Yes indeed, kiddos- Today’s topic is…. Yeast Infections!!!

You hear that?

That was the sound of me losing about 300 Facebook friends and all of my followers on Twitter.

Oh well.

(Who am I kidding? Nowhere near that many people read this…)

If you are a woman, and have taken antibiotics or left a swimsuit on too long, you’ve probably had one. I am lucky enough to have only had a few, but my experience with them was bad enough that I have moved them up to #2 on the list of things that I would rather eat 7 boogers to avoid. (and I hate boogers with a passion.) I know there is nobody who enjoys them, (except for maybe a self-hating masochist) but I feel my hate affair with yeast infections is an especially passionate one.

I probably didn’t pay close enough attention in my Human sexuality class, because when I woke up one morning  and felt like a Queen fire ant had decided to settle her colony in the lower region of my body, the possibility that it could be a yeast infection didn’t even cross my mind. Of course I came to the conclusion that most naive girls would… that I had contracted some nasty, horrible, itching disease! I didn’t want to tell any of my friends about it, so I called my mother.

I was only a Junior in college at the time, and I think my parents still preferred to believe that my “true love waits” ring was planted firmly on my finger. This made it exceptionally difficult for me to tell my mother, between sobs, that not only was I a huge slut who had “done more than make out” with a boy, but I had also caught a disease that made me want to tear my eyeballs out of my head. She was surprisingly calm and made an appointment for me to see a doctor.

It only took a few minutes after my doctor checked out my lady bits, before she told me the diagnosis. I prepared my self for the worst.

After she told me, I was quiet for a few seconds as I let it all sink in.

A yeast infection?

A YEAST INFECTION!!!!

I couldn’t even be happy that I wasn’t diseased, because I gave up my parent’s pristine view of myself… for a yeast infection???

Nevertheless, I picked up my medicine, went home and put it in, then spent the next 6 hours lying upside down on the couch with my feet up in the air, in hopes that that would expedite the process.

Since that day, I have vowed to go to great lengths to avoid experiencing the dreaded Y.I again. As I have told you before, I have a teensy bit of an obsession with Web MD. You’d be surprised at all the useful  interesting information out there to prevent Y.I’s .. Plus  it makes me feel better to know I’m being pro-active. I make sure I remove any wet bathing suits as soon as I get out of the water. I even change after a hard work out. I try to eat a diet rich with yogurt and miso soup. I take AZO yeast prevention pills, Pro biotic supplements, and Cranberry pills.

(Yes, I’m aware that I probably shouldn’t follow the home remedies I read on the internet, nor do I need to take so many pills a day… but who am I not to take advice from strangers?)

In case your curious, I have also found some options on the internets for home remedy just in case you do get a case of the “rip out my vajayjay-sies.”

*Honey… You’re supposed to essentially smear it on your netherlands. From what I can tell, it doesn’t do anything but make your legs stick together. But it does smell delicious.

*Vinegar… poured into the bathtub. It doesn’t do a damn thing except make your whole body smell like a foot.

*Yogurt… You’re supposed to put it in there.  I don’t even really like to put yogurt in my mouth all that much.

*Hydrogen Peroxide... I use hydrogen peroxide nightly in my mouth and it kind of bubbles.  hmmm….

*Garlic… Keeping out vampires and yeast infections since 1703. (but you also have to put this shiz up there.)

Whatever you do ladies, no matter how crazy you may feel… Do not, I repeat DO NOT reach for the round brush on your bed side table.

*** I just realized that this was the second TMI that I have posted about devastating events involving my wa-nana where I had to cry to my mamma. Neither my relationship with my mother, nor my relationship with my lady parts are usually so dramatic.

And in other completely unrelated “Too Much Information” news, today when I was taking a shower, I noticed that I have seriously been neglecting mowing my upper thighs. I mean seriously, if I were to show you a picture (I won’t! You’re welcome!)- you would definitely think I were a man right now. It is definitely time for a little upper leg maintenance.

Related posts:

1. TMI Thursday: A few of my hated things
2. TMI Thursday: Squat Got Copped
3. TMI Thursday: Everything comes down to poo (not mine)
4. TMI Thursday: Thank God for friends, to hell with enemas!
5. TMI Thursday: The time it got stuck (not what you’re thinking)