Look what the gods of fate said to me today....

So... as I mentioned in my BYOC today I had a shitty morning with my idiot husband and on a lot of levels I'm just not sure what to do next - I sort of feel open to the world - to the universe.  I haven't yet found a therapist, but that has everything to do with procrastination - but I'm doing my best to just really stay in the moment and be open to "What's Next" - whatever that may be.

Anyway... I swear the gods were speaking to me today.... not once even... But twice.

Okay - so first off... I have my 'lady town' doctor's appointment today.  And if you don't remember the last one and the multiple scapulae (this is apparently the plural of scapula - who knew??) she had to go through for my long vagina - feel free to refresh your memory here. (I did and it totally made me chuckle).  Anyway - I quickly reminded her of the longness of my vagina and how she needs to use the really big one.  And she said - oh thanks, I'm so glad you told me, I have a long, narrow one right here.  She pops it in and again thanks me for cluing her in because it's apparently very clear that a normal size one wouldn't have worked.  But then.... wait for it... "Except, the walls are closing in on me.  I'm going to have to get the one that's wide too".  Seriously woman - I appreciate you're trying to spare me the invasion of "the big one".  But how do you know I don't just crave the big one, right?  It's the only action I'm getting these days, okay. 

She seems worried about having to put the really big one in me.  She's doing a little hemming and hawing - worrying - apologizing in advance - "there's going to be a lot of pressure".  Finally I have to hurry her along... "Seriously," I tell her "just go for it, I promise I'm gonna be just fine."   She totally laughs at my attitude and pushes it home and I am, in fact, just fine.  Okay lady, what do I need to tell you to use next year?  "The extra long and wide one"  Okay, check.  Got it.  Clearly I need a new model penis to try out in the future... Which brings me to the fate gods' comment number one....

I had totally planned on bringing up birth control with my doctor.  I at least wanted to talk about my options.  My husband had a vasectomy years ago and I haven't had to give birth control the slightest thought in a whole hell of a lot of years.  I'm not yet at the point where I'm ready to run out and have sex with Tom, Dick, and Harry... but at this moment it doesn't seem like that outrageous an option.  So I wanted to be at least prepared enough to understand my options.  But.... before I got to the part where I'd ask her about it she asked me about my periods and I told her how bad my cramping was and after some discussion about what I can do about that - she recommends getting a certain IUD implanted in me that should dramatically reduce my periods and my cramps.  Uh... so - all on her own - totally unrelated to the possibly having sex with someone other than my husband she suggested an IUD.  "Um.. an IUD, that's birth control right?"  "It sure is."  "Okay good, because I'm thinking of leaving my husband and wanted to talk about birth control anyway."  She said it would be the last form of birth control I'll likely ever need (given my age). 

I'll be calling next week to schedule having that put in!  And she told me to definitely tell the person who will insert it to use the extra long and wide scapula... yeah, I got that one.

And then just a couple of hours later, I'm playing catch with Teddy outside.  He'll be pitching in the playoffs and their first game is tomorrow so I was giving him a target to pitch to.  After doing that for a while, we had moved on to just plain old catch, which was totally fun.  Until he threw it super hard (after all he's a real live baseball player - a pitcher even) and I just instinctively threw my gloved hand up to catch it.  I made the catch, but the ball hit exactly on my wedding ring (through the glove of course).  But it pinned my finger between the ball and the diamond setting in the ring that got slammed up against the back of the glove.  So basically the ring got seriously jammed into the top of my finger.  It hurt like a motherfucker and I yelled loud enough to make Teddy feel awful. 

But the point is - I got the glove off as quickly as possible so I could get the ring off my finger in case it was going to swell to the point I would have to get it cut off.  I was able to get it off - barely - and I quickly put it on my right hand (recently I have been wearing it on my right hand from time to time - just sort of trying out what it feels like - cuz this ring has a long story behind it and feels very much like *my* ring vs my wedding ring.  The ring he put on my finger when we got married is in a drawer in my bathroom.)  Anyway... So now the ring finger on my left hand has a bruise on it and is too swollen to wear my ring on.

I swear I can't get the ring on the left and - and I think it looks pretty good over there on the right


So I think the fate gods just got a doctor to suggest I go on birth control and told me to take off my wedding ring.  What's that about???