I have written before how much I adore my fabulous girl doctor, I mean, how often do you actually look forward to going to see that one?
Exactly my point. Now, I am not exactly looking forward to the exam part, but hell, I am looking forward to worship her again and saving my sanity and more important my fabulous lingerie collection.
Two years ago I went to her and told her that I felt like a 10 year old. My boobs were basically taking on water like the Titantic, hurt like hell and so on and so forth. After blogging about this, my mother read the post and insisted for a good 10 minutes that I MUST be pregnant.
As usual, Mama Fabulous did not take a simple “not possible” as an answer and, after 10 minutes of her ranting, I ended up screaming into the phone that HELL, I need to have sex to be pregnant and the last time I had sex was like, 5 months ago and it was with someone we want to call “whussy asshole with great arms who fights fires for living.” And, oh, Mama Fabulous, between condoms and the pill, I am pretty sure pregnancy is not an option.
When I stopped my rant to take a breath, Mama Fabulous said: “Maybe it’s an ectopic pregnancy?”
Selective hearing, that woman.
So, I went to my girly parts doctor and she switched my pill and voilà….my lingerie collection was saved. There is nothing more annoying than seeing so many pretty bras go to waste.
Boobs were back in check.
Of course, this past year I just stopped having sex cause it’s just way too much trouble, oh no wait, cause I don’t like sleeping with assholes. Right.
I kind of forgot taking birth control, which is also a great reason to stop at making out with someone who later turns out to be an asshole and, you know, guess what.
Titanic was back in town and doc to the rescue.
I will now go and thank her again for saving my sanity, because a girl can only buy so many minimizer bras.