Peeing at the Dentist with Dyll

One could say Pea and I have this healthy obsession to talk about our lady parts business and anything to do with being a LADY. Much like men who like to scratch and fondle around their nether regions – theirs is a bit more subconscious - unawares sometimes to their surroundings. We simply love to talk about what we are going through more when we think I mean know we are being entertaining…

I had my yearly dreaded visit to none other than my Gynae I say dreaded as it invokes fear to my fellow lady comrades in the quest to be healthy inside and out.

We had this discussion the other day who would you rather visit The Dentist Vs. The Gynae…round one, I will not discuss similarities as this involves talks of body openings. The dentist hurts more and takes way more time. You can’t talk, did I mention the dentists really hurts you and then proceeds to embarrass you with both hands in your month by asking you a question of which you answer something like argg..warrrggg… uggg followed by copious amount of spit. Hello Nurse lady you supposed to be sucking the saliva up with your machine that shreeks in my ears… never mind the… DRILL

After backwards and forwards of…(dun dun dun)… THE DENTIST VS.THE GYNAE discussion, ok maybe 5 min chat it has become apparent that the loud mouths and not to shy ones go to none other than the dentist.

Guess who I chose… I choose the gynae. Why? Well firstly he doesn’t spend hours hurting me (ok whatever I say now will just go north and south but not the direction I intend it to go) so I choose to stop on my reasons what I can say is that everyone tries to make your time as pleasant as possible in the gynae.

One experience I do hate is the peeing in the jar. This needs to be timed almost like an army infiltration into some 3^rd world country with really amazing computer technology to steal nuclear warheads. 

Water needs to be drunk so that there is a need to go pee when arriving at the gynae, especially if you cant pee on demand. SO I arrive and there I sit not to proud of being able to give bottles of urine samples, I am bouncing,  I can feel it coming out me in the form of tears… I make it in time… even the nurse says we only need one sample wow wanna her see her not spill… (evil laugh)

SO flash forward 2 minutes and there I was lying on the bed and I asked my male gynae his opinion on the big Dentist vs. Gynae debate and he says simply, he chooses the Gynae… now I think is this man not telling me something about himself.

Now due to me not falling pregnant immediately as I would have hoped… I had my child’s name planned Egypt or Cairo (guess where we went on honeymoon) I have now got to get off my bum and head to the doctor for blood tests…. Apparently only teenagers not wanting babies get pregnant super fast…

I have passed the stage of worrying being taunted by late periods and pregnancy test (I only took one this month ok 2).

I go away knowing that beauty really is skin deep… tell that to my ovaries, uterus and pancreas.. liver could be a whole new ball game…

I have fleas (Dyll)

It appears I have fleas as I have these red dots that keep popping up all over my body and man are they itchy. I have ruled out chicken pox, measles and allergic reaction by asking my very educated friends and family.  How do I stop this I need help people any suggestions are welcome.

Today’s post is more of a follow up in my previous revolutions:

Day 1 of quest for abs:

I awaken which is a feat in itself head to the gym for my very own personal trainer whom I am going to love and hug and hate and maybe beat up  - who does not show up. Day 1 over… more gripping details to follow shortly.

I have added another new year’s revolution to my list:

Finish the degree I started many many moons ago. I haven’t studied in like a zillion years, yes I am petrified as my brain seems to shu………t……….. ok I'm back… see its really bad?

And to make matters worse I have this mental block in the dreaded accounting module department. I have made it my mission to be friends with accountants, book keepers, auditors and anyone in the accounting department, hoping that just hanging around them  will allow for their superior knowledge of ledgers and all boring things related to accounts will rub off on me and that I will become a more of a  well “balanced” person. But all I have received so far from these party animal alcoholics is that A + L = E yes, ALE… I have temporarily delayed this module of basic accounting till next semester (can’t wait) in the meantime I will strive to be positive in all things involving and will “credit” this positive attitude to wanting to pass this module… so bad!!

                                                    

Another thing I am embracing this year by not being over excited by everything, and taking my long term plans one week at a time!

Talking about a New Years Revolution- with Dyll

Happy Happy Merry Merry…

What a great way to start a year by jotting down all your revolutions. I don’t do resolutions as I feel that I have the passion to embrace each goal I set forth (some may disagree)

So my first goal is based on the massive FOOD HANGOVER I experienced right through Christmas. The problem with a food hangover is that it is very different to a Booze Hangover.

I shall set the scene: Imagine you and your crazy bunch of friends are celebrating the victory of once again coming 2^nd in your soccer match”  you know - celebrating something “really” important - so what does any self respecting celebration call for? Thank you for asking… it calls for shooters and booze.

The next morning  you awaken to the sound of the pulse in your feet pounding in your ears, your fashion style is EMO (please research if you don’t know what an EMO is) and you are feeling like a barrel of recycled monkey puke… the advice you are given ranges from greasy breakfast/take away, banana mayonnaise milkshake or a green salad  - Everyone suddenly  gives advice on their “guaranteed hangovered recovering remedies” and more often than not  the common advise heard in the halls of pubs, bars and homes everyone is bite the dog… metaphorically speaking of course this is translated to have another drink and feel better - I will show you vodka redbull!!

But alas on a food hangover you cannot eat another packet of Christmas pies or a turkey – you know, the evils that made you feel this awful - I should have shared the turkey and the stuffing L so there you are button undone feeling extremely sorry for yourself, it’s the hours after the great big Christmas meal to the leftover meal that makes one ask “Why, Why, Why”

What to do in this state, well obviously start your Christmas Revolutions for 2011 procrastination being a vice that you will say goodbye to in the new year because you only  start after standing on the scale on the first Monday in January, it is then that you decided that Tracy Chapman had it wrong. Talking about a Revolution, start with a wimper L not whisper…

Step One of NYR

To be original in this common goal writing predicament we find ourselves in I am thinking that my goals will not include talk of weight loss, I will not say I want to lose 100kg, I will not stereotype myself and be such a typical girl. Instead I solemnly swear to eat-less and save my allowances of chocolate, booze and overindulging for really really special occasions until I have lost either 99.1kg or 20kg around my ankles.

My other problem is my abs or should I mention lack of. It all started last year  when I was laying on the emergency bed in the doctors rooms - I had come down with a severely attacking  tummy bug otherwise known as exploding diarrhea. I was cramping and not to sound melodramatic thought I was going to die.

So the doctor tells me to pull my stomach in, whilst he does his “Doctor Check” he then asks or rather tells  in a slightly frustrated voice “ Pull –in-your –tummy” I then say in clenched teeth… I AM!

At this point he told me told me to get abs.

I then left the doctors rooms miserable but on a mission “finding ABS”. I then did what any intelligent, sassy lady does I turned to my trusted friend “google” who I am sad to say let me down and couldn’t help me buy abs. Nothing. Dust. Not even the kind where you just ad water and have “Walla” Instant ABs

2011 will be the year of the ABS… so help me. (More on my gripping tale of “The AB’s – emotion to the core” to follow shortly)

As for the rest of the revolutions there are so many and not even Greek civilization was ruined in a day.