I Don't Heart Mr. Huckabee or Uncle Sugar

If the Republican party can't figure out where all their party support is going then look no further than party leaders such as former presidential candidate, Mike Huckabee. Or as I like to call him, "sugar balls." I call him "sugar balls" because this is demeaning and reminds him of the fact that he may or any male for that matter be able to impregnate a woman at any given moment no matter his age, intentions or libido.

On January 25, 2014 Mr. Huckabee had this to say about oral contraceptives aka "the pill" being covered by most insurers under the new federal health law.

And I quote:

"Women I know are outraged that the Democrats think that women are nothing more than helpless and hopeless creatures whose only goal in life is to have the government provide for them birth control medication,” he added. Our party stands for the recognition of the equality of women and the capacity of women. That’s not a war on them, it’s a war for them.”

Dear Mr. Huckabee,

Until men are no longer able to impregnate a women and their libido drops to the same level as a woman, the need for birth control will need to exist. And until men take responsibility for the fact that they can cause their sperm to travel to a woman's uterus lining and that sperm can fertilize one of her eggs and create a human life, then birth control of some sort will always be a necessity in a civilized society. Birth control and contraceptive devices are the great equalizer. They prevent women from being helpless and hopeless to the desires of men, in spite of their own.

Oral contraceptives allow women to make the choice about whether they want a man to impregnate them. Women didn't apply for the job of keeping men from better controlling their higher libidos, but it's a job that we have had since humankind and Hawthorne and like the choice of carrying healthy babies for men and themselves, it's not one that we take lightly. If you want to blame anyone for the reason that birth control pills even exist or need to be covered under the new federal health law than I suggest that you blame men. Yes, without men, we wouldn't have to take birth control pills. We'd all be ACLU card-carrying lesbians and it's no suprise most of the gay population are Democrats. Should access to drugs that lower your blood sugar or blood pressure not be covered because of genetics or a love for rich foods? Maybe, but only if I subscribed to your school of thought. Oh, and drop the toilet seat when you're done, sugar balls.

Sincerely,

Angela Cavallari Walker-a former Republican

Angie 2.0: Why I am Getting the Mirena IUD Removed After Over 6 Years

It's 2007, and I just had my beautiful baby daughter. We decided that our family was complete with two kids, so after my doctor told me that Mirena was a contraceptive that his wife really liked (she's an OB/GYN as well) I went ahead and had it installed. Initially, I experienced mild cramping and some bleeding. But heck, after having a baby just 8 weeks earlier..it was nothing to get in a twist about.

Two months later, I dropped most of the baby weight (I was breastfeeding so that helped) but started getting pains directly in my ovaries. One vaginal ultrasound later, another doctor at my OB-GYN's office informed me that Mirena can cause minor and harmless ovarian cysts. So, each month instead of getting any sign of bleeding, I would get pains in my ovaries (the cysts), water retention, bloating. You know, everything that you would get with a period. Great, right?

Fast forward 6 years. I have since moved to California and I start getting what I think is my first bladder infection. So, I go to a brand new doctor that knows nothing about me, and I am not sure that he was listening when I did share my history. He runs a battery of tests including the old dip-stick UTI test. All comes back negative. He's ready to put me on overactive bladder medication. WHOA! I suggest that my Mirena is past its five-year-exp date and needs to come out anyways, so let's see if this is the cause.

He seemed very defensive and explained that I was just getting older and this happens (I'm 37.) Fair enough, but again...it's time for this IUD to come out anyways, so let's see what happens. He pushes back and defends my Mirena to the point that I do not want to return.

Fast forward two months later. My "OMG, I have to pee every 5 seconds" symptoms are back and with a little weight gain, the constant ovarian cyst pain, pelvic pressure, weird phantom pain in my titties, constant fatigue, bloating and irritable bowel syndrome symptoms. All around the time that I usually get my phantom period. Great, right?

But there is a myriad of other crazy ass symptoms. And by crazy, I mean...I've been slowly going mental. I have had trouble sleeping for two years, chronic fatigue in spite of that one night in 30 that I do get some shut eye, depression, and a new auto-immune diagnosis over a year ago. I also have lost all sexual desire. My sex life has mirrored my sleep schedule for some time. I miss having the desire or at least giving a hoot about making whoopie.

The cyst pain has actually gotten worse over the years. Tomorrow, this little plastic piece of shit is done wreaking havoc on my hormones, sex life and bladder. Honestly, I am less disturbed by the drug and more disturbed that physicians are so quick to defend Mirena.

Anyone remember the OTC drug, Nuprin?

Comment and let me know if you have had any issues with Mirena. I plan on posting what it feels like to get it removed, the dreaded Mirena crash, and the welcoming of having a normal menstrual cycle. Well, I am not really looking forward to a visit from Aunt Flo unless she sets my body straight. And I have a hunch that she will.

This is Why People Are Homeless in California

If you've ever wondered why California has more homeless people than most states, I've got your answer. You see, Californians are not “out there” because they like to bike 70 miles to work and shit, they are “out there” because they are clueless about what homes should cost to rent or buy. I’m convinced that they are getting their home values from the same people that price sandwiches and neck pillows at the airport.

Except, imagine that instead of just sticker shock, there is a shortage of sandwiches at the airport and passengers are breaking into a fevered frenzy to get their hands on the egg salad and rye-no matter what the cost.

This week, I hired a bouncer to help me secure a place. He’s a very kind real estate agent that was a former police officer. Which brings me to the only silver lining to my situation right now, the people of California. Excuse me, the people that live in Northern California.

They are a fascinating breed with interesting backgrounds and kind souls. Nothing seems to phase them nearly as much as it does me. I recently lost my shit in the parking lot of a Jiffy Lube (I'll do another blog on that later) and the mechanic just blinked, shrugged his shoulders and offered a shoulder to cry on. Thankfully, this is just the kind of crutch that I am gonna need to get through this house hunting hell.

Photo credit: Homeless On Bench by ron mzr">Ron Mzr publicdomainpictures.net

One Runners Perspective On The Boston Marathon Tragedy

The finish line is an emotional place. It’s a place of accomplishment, joy and relief. A place where you scan the crowd seeking familiar faces to share in your triumph.


Following the news of yesterday’s Boston Marathon tragedy, my mind immediately turned to the many children, friends and families that would have been holding handmade poster-board signs scribbled with words of encouragement and drawings.


Keep going. We are proud of you. Be strong and carry on.


I cried. Hard.


But what this evil S.O.B failed to consider after committing this senseless and heartless act, is that runners and their supporters are a resilient breed. We know how to push through agony, emotion and tears. We encourage. We lift up others when they have fallen, and know how to persevere through pain.


To all the victims of The Boston Marathon, their families, first responders, Boston and runners across the world, I offer these poster-board messages:


Keep going. We are proud of you. Be strong and carry on.

The Mormon Diet Plan Journal Day 1: I Will Not Suffer Alone

By now, you are probably wondering what ailment I have, and checking my Facebook page for my DOB to see if I am under the age of 75. Well, those of you that give a shit. And this time...let me tell you ladies and gents, the “suckage factor bar” has been raised. Apparently, I have done an amazing job of ignoring a raging sinus infection, and some sort of acid reflux. The doctor was soo impressed with my denial and avoidance that he offered me an award for all my needless suffering. You know, like they do for new moms that decide to have a natural delivery. Part of my treatment involves some bitchin’ steroid nasal spray, antibiotics, and some other drug that I have never heard of....but has a shit ton of refills, so I have plenty of time to figure out what it is that I am putting into my body. The other part of my treatment is a simple diet. Yes, simply restrictive. I have dubbed this new diet: The Mormon Diet Plan. And from now on, I will be recording my daily distaste for what I am denied. Here is what I can no longer have...well, at least for the next month or so. Drinks: No alcoholic beverages, coffee, tea, any soda or carbonated beverage, no caffeine, and no citrus juices. So, just apple juice and water. Cue Pac-Man dying sound. Food: No eggs, dairy, red sauce, or chocolate. And no eating after 7:30 in the evening or at least three hours before I go to bed. This fun little rule also applies to drinking ANYTHING in the evening. It may be time to turn to a pill mill. Activities: No whispering, and no sex without a condom. Shhhh.... The point is, I will not be suffering alone. My children will have deal with my mood swings from caffeine withdrawals, and my husband will have to revert back to the hassle of putting on a prophylactic.

It’s official: I use IV drugs

For the first time since I was 16, I am able to put my shoulders back, or sit up straight in a chair without looking like the housewife version of Hugo’s Quasimodo. I was recently diagnosed with Psoriatic arthritis (PsA). At first, my reasons for going to the dermatologist were strictly cosmetic and a matter of discomfort, but turns out...I had all the signs of arthritis. I’m 36. Autoimmune disorders run rampant on both sides of my family. And believe it or not, there is a very deep dividing line between taking snake oil and eliminating certain foods in your diet to treat this disease, and the other side (the actual sufferers) that casually exchange stories about the latest biologic drugs like we’re poppin’ Tylenol. However, it was my sister’s fight with Rheumatoid Arthritis that has led the way for me (and my dad) to take some pretty powerful drugs with possible side effects that scare me, and most people shit less--well you’ve heard the commercials. Thank God I’m not afraid of needles, because the drug that I have gone through hours of phone calls with insurance adjusters, and a bit of hell to get approved, works. OH and it’s a pre-filled injectable biologic called, Enbrel. For the past two weeks, I open my fridge door, push aside the cottage cheese and snag what looks like a marker. A quick alcohol swab to my extremities, and I’m jammin’ that baby into a thigh, forearm or buttock. You would think that the strangest part would be prepping my forearm to receive a needle without consulting a former drug addict, but it’s been the absence of pain that has been the realization of its existence.

Luke Shops for Father's Day Cards

I just returned from my world wind blogging adventure in Chicago, and I didn't have the energy to write a blog. So, I decided to share this cartoon instead.