yogurt in the cooter

I shoved yogurt in my vagina tonight. With a spoon. A small spoon, that I usually use for eating ice cream.

I went to the doctor about a week ago, to renew my birth control (You have to go back every month. They apparently don’t trust women to keep fair tabs on their bodies between doses of BC. Sigh.) and I mentioned that, you know. Shit’s been increasingly itchy. And there’s icky stuff coming out. And last time this happened, it was a yeast infection, and I used some monistat, and it went away, so could I please have some Japanese monistat, pretty please? (It’s not sold over-the-counter here. Which infuriates me.)

Of course, Alex, the lovely man who I kiss and fondle and have sex with and share all my woes and excitements with, got to be the translator for this Doctor vs. itchy-lady-parts session. His Japanese is way good. My vagina is way itchy. An unfortunate combination for him.

Anyways, the Dr. suggested that it was in fact a problem with my endometrial lining and suggested I come in next week for some endometrial lining tests. Which I can only assume involve grabbing a bit of the endometrial lining from inside my vagina and then, like, doing shit to it.

#1: FUCK. THAT.

#2: This isn’t my first yeast infection. The itchy. The icky. All repeat symptoms. Feeling fairly confident in my self-diagnosis, here. Fuck off with your endometrial lining shit and give me some monistat!

Doctor number two had the helpful suggestion of just letting it all “flow out of me” and “run its course,” (accompanied by the appropriate hand gestures of a waterfall of icky pouring out of my lady bits).

So, a friend is sending me monistat from America, bless her soul, and I’m spooning yogurt into my vagina because that’s what the internet said to do. I have not inserted a clove of garlic, as the internet also suggests, mostly because, EEK what if it gets lost in there?

Japan… I love you, but I don’t always like you.

Clea