Mystery Diagnosis, Part 1

OK, you know, I've been pretty cryptic. If you've been reading my blog on a regular basis, something fishy has been going on with my health as of late. I've confided in a couple of you about it but, the whole sordid story hasn't found a home on this blog. Until now.

See, here I detailed my U.T.I. over New Year, it was here that I talked about my sigmoidoscopy (count is now 7), here that I talked about my doctor wanting to perform surgery on my nethers, and here that I spoke of my lack of sleep (which has been a constant, even though the kids are sleeping through the night).

So now, dear readers, I will impart to you the "tale" of my seven-year-itch. No, this is not some wonderful wanna-be Marilyn Monroe movie during which time my dress gets blown up and you get a great view of my legs (thank God for that). Don't you wish. This is where I break all Grandma on you, but rather than tell you about my corns, bunions, and goiter, I tell you about...

my seven-year-ass-itch.
(Disclaimer for Supermom Kristi: I know I said I would clean up around here, and I have, but if I'm going to publish this sordid "tale" for all to read, I have to use the word ass, to sort of hide "behind" it. It gives the story a bit of humor for the fellow potty-mouths. I promise, I won't get any more nasty than this. Except for pointing out ass euphemisms like "tale/tail" or "behind." That I can't pass up, either.)

Yep, there. I typed it. I admit it. Freely and without embarrassment (see, there, did it again), my butt itched for seven. damn. years.

It was an off and on type of thing. Butt itches, apply Cortisone or Benadryl creams, itch goes away, all is well. A week later, repeat.

This, I could live with, until this past November.

As some of you may remember, in November, I had strep throat. As every girl out there knows, when you are prescribed an antibiotic, you eat yogurt to counteract the effects of said antibiotic. Why? To avoid a yeast infection of the nethers. Well, I forgot to do this and the itching went crazy. Like, I was trying rip the skin off my ass crazy. Like, I couldn't sleep because I was trying to rip off said skin due to an unavoidable, over-powering need to scratch. Like, I would also scratch at all hours of the day, hiding myself in closets and the garage so the kids couldn't see and try to emulate Mama.

So, in January, the emergency room doctor said, "Yeast! Pin worms!" Are you kidding me? I have worms!?! Like dogs sometimes get worms, worms? Rubbing their butt across the carpet worms? OMG! How nasty is that?!?! So, I took pin worm killer pills and yeast killer pills and figured I would stop itching.

Nope.

Bit by bit, I was losing my sanity, and my sleep. So, off I went to the OB/GYN who pulled the kids out of me, Dr. Friggin'. Dr. Friggin' said, "More yeast infection pills for you!"

Nope, that wasn't it, either.

I went back.

Dr. Friggin' then said, "Go see a GI doc and here's some hydrocortisone suppositories!"

OK, seriously. A gastrointestinal doctor? Are you shitting me? (Dude, I couldn't resist. Gastrointestinal doctor, shit, get it.... never mind.) And suppositories? The itching is on the outside, not inside. How are these gonna... whatever. I've tried every other remedy, why not this? At this point, the back of my toilet was already littered with Benadryl cream, Hydrocortisone cream, Lotrimin cream, Monistat cream, Desitin diaper rash cream, and Vaseline. Why not cortisone suppositories?

So, what happened next? Well, you'll just have to tune in tomorrow to see. Trust me, the story does get better, but no less heavy with butt imagery!