-copia.

Cornu- of pharma-.

That’s me, the pill-popper.  I had three appointments today, two last week, and the meds just keep rollin’ in.  Shall I recap?

For about two years now, I’ve had some elevation of a cardiolipin (which is…?), and an increased risk for blood clots and some sort of pregnancy risk, too, if I had wanted to go that route, so at my last annual lady-business exam in the fall, my MD suggested switching to a non-hormal method of BC.  RB and I had  already been talking about it, and he ended up getting the snip.  I went off BCP in December.

Hormone wackitude ensued:  1. Crazy libido!  2. Massive adolescent-style zit flares!  3. Whippy moods!  4. Different sensitivity to smells (and different smells to be sensitive to)!  5. Previously regulated cycle goes off the tracks!

It’s been several months now, and I’m still dealing with #2, #3, and #4.  Doc sends me to a Derm, who is putting me on Accutane (aka The Big Guns because I am disfigured), which means regular blood and urine tests to make sure my liver doesn’t go to foie gras, and I don’t conceive any horrific fish-babies, and after more than a month of mickey-mousing around to get all the baselines and clearances, I can finally start eating that poison.  (And guess what, the law requires that I use a secondary method of BC, because apparently vasectomy is insufficient! Thx!) 

Plus, thinks Doc, this depression or whatever the fuck is wrong with my brain (we think a little SAD + a little cuckoo chemisty + a shitburger of a situation = broken Wroth)  is traceable to various hormones, and so today suggests that I a) up my meds (so flattering! now I’m crazycakes with extra nut sauce!) b) start taking BCP again, so as to control whatever tidal ebb and flow of brain pudding is making me want to crawl under my bed and die.  Apparently blood clots are not so bad.

That’s three, Three, THREE daily medications, my friends!  And next month, one of them will be 2x a day!  And if future bloodwork shows an increased risk re: the clotting factor thingamajig, then I can look forward to yet another!  If my birthday hadn’t already passed, I’d ask one of you to send me oneathem multi-compartment pill-minders.

If I weren’t 34, with no employment prospects, no assets, and no great hopes for either, I’d try to glam up my routine, Valley of the Dolls-style.    Alas.