July 20, 2009
I’ve taken oral contraceptives since 1996. There’s a few things I like about this arrangement. There’s the whole thing about not getting pregnant even if one’s primary prophylactic fails, the lovely, regular confirmation of that lack of pregnancy, and an amelioration of the myriad symptoms that accompany said confirmation.
Ahem. I SAID, “amelioration of the myriad symptoms that accompany said confirmation”!!! In other words, little pills in a little purple envelope, I’m not supposed to be crazy right now!
And actually, technically, I’m not crazy right now. Not anymore. And as much as I’m all in favor of exercise and everything? I shouldn’t have to run 4.5 8-minute miles and top it off with a dose of The Shred just to generate enough endorphins to keep myself from crying for no reason at all, in a fashion that would alarm the most stalwart of men. I wouldn’t have to, if you stupid little blister-packeted pellets of progesterone substitute would just do your job.
And honestly, I’m really starting to think that you’re not only NOT doing your job, but that you’re making things WORSE!
So unless there’s a VERY good explanation for this, consider yourselves (and I’m including you, medical practice who refuses to listen to me, or prescribe me anything outside of this “family” of pills) on notice.