Not a banner week for you, bits.

YIKES.

First, just so you know, “Welcome to TMI land! I’m Molly, and I’ll be your tour guide today.”

This is one of those weeks where I feel like singing “I Enjoy Being a Girl” highly sarcastically at the top of my lungs. The joys of ladybits, ya’ll.

Sunday I realized that, goody, I had a yeast infection*. Off to Walgreens, Monistat purchased, used, things cleared up quickly.

Monday, my old friend the cyst returned. I have a sebaceous cyst right on my underwear line in my inner right thigh. I’ve had it for close to a decade now. It’s been drained twice and entirely surgically removed once, but there’s basically no way to totally get rid of them. So now, it’s back, directly under the scar where it was removed about 5 years ago.

And it came back with a vengeance, infected and pissed off. Soon I was limping about the house wearing only a long tshirt, moaning. Brad kept telling me to go to the doctor, but I kept explaining that I’d had it forever, it would go away eventually, etc. Finally, after two days of moist heat did nothing and I was running a low fever and getting chills, I saw the doctor**.

He told me that if I wanted the cyst removed again, it would have to be done under general anesthesia due to its size (it was over an inch long at that point, and very angry looking). He gave me an Augmentin prescription and told me to take sitz baths, as hot as I could stand, until it drained and the infection left.

Got home, took Augmentin. Oh hey, remember what happens when you take antibiotics and you just had a yeast infection?

Yes. Lovely, that. Got some Diflucan, feeling better.

So now I’m still lounging about the house in long tshirts, taking unbearably hot baths, and large while pills. Still can’t bear to wear underwear, which is great because — remember how I had a 22 day cycle last month? Today is cycle day 23. Yayyyy. So much to look forward to.

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*This is only my second yeast infection ever. First was last spring when I decided to try out the NuvaRing (hahaha, birth control, ahhhhh). The stupid thing just would not sit right — it’s the same problem I’ve had with Instead Cups and the Moon Cup — which is too bad, because I know many people who love all three of those things. It may have to do with my tilted uterus, but then 1 in 4 women have a tilted uterus and surely they don’t have this problem. Maybe I’m just, to quote Julia’s troll, a “super special snowflake.”

**Let me tell you how OLD this dude was. Super old. As in plaid-bowtie-and-suspenders-with-tweed-jacket old. As in I-was-spelling-his-name-for-the-pharmacist-and-the-woman-in-line-behind-me-at-the-pharmacy-told-me-that-he-had-DELIVERED-HER old. OLD.