Wednesday, 6 November 2013

far, far too much information. you were warned

I have been so stressed the past two days I think I've given myself a urinary tract infection.  Charming, hein? 

The stress is worky (when isn't it?) and it's sort of done with now (at least, in part) so here's hoping I can neutralise those bad bacteria with a sousing in cranberry juice and let my body regain its natural equilibrium (HIPPY ALERT).  To be completely fair, my body has always seemed to have some kind of bizarre preference for making me feel like I'm peeing razor blades so perhaps 'natural equilibrium' is going too far.  Detente, perhaps.  I would call my tendency to develop UTIs at the drop of a hat a traitorous body habit but I do have to note that it worsens in times of change, stress or general self abuse (2001-2005, the University Years, aka the Wasted Years in a Manky Pub or At Student Health Begging for the Good Stuff).  And yes, before you ask, I'm very good at wiping my own bum so that's not it, ladies and gentlemen.

I find I am generally able to treat UTIs by drinking cranberry juice (the real deal that is - anything drink below 15% actual cranberry juice means I have to drink enough to be peeing like a racehorse AND I get the joy of wondering what the fuckity fuck the rest of it contains), rather than antibiotics.  I found myself scanning packets in Hong Kong one time wondering whether the miscellaneous fruit pictured was, in fact, a cranberry or some kind of warped blueberry (have I told you this story before?  I feel like I probably have.  OH WELL, SOZ BOUT THAT!) 

Drinking the juice is far preferable to the antibiotics - don't want 'em if I can avoid 'em, they don't always work, their lead-in time for relief is slower and you have to go to the doctor and pee in a cup.  No thanks, I'm a TERRIBLE cup pee-er.  I find myself nervous with the collection devices at the doctors and that generally leads to pee on the hand.  Not my favourite.  During the pregnancy scare of about '07 I found myself peeing in the lid of a hairspray can in desperation as I needed a vessel in my own bathroom, only to discover the tiny hole in the cap, which WHAT? So there was pee all over the sink.

So, you should know I sat down at the computer to just write about, well, whatever came to mind.  And this is it.  I'm sorry.  Journal = posterity = truth? Or something, anyway.  I'm vile, but you knew that. 

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