Tag Archives: medication

160 Ain’t Just a Number.

Chronic Migraines, they say. That’s what I have. Change of meds. Great, more pills. Just what I needed. Every time I move it hurts my head. So, I don’t really move much.

Which lead to this weight gain. I literally just now sat in my closet for like 30 minutes crying getting rid of clothes that I simply can’t fit anymore. I go to the doctor, they check my weight. I’ve gained 1-2 pounds every single fucking time.

What’s the fix? Exercise hurts. I don’t really eat too unhealthy. 160 pounds of me begs to differ, though.


I had the sex talk with my dad yesterday. At age 25.

Yea, for the first time ever. My dad & I are not the type of people to talk about serious things. We have the same sense of humor (& nose) so we always end up in humourous conversations. We avoid serious talk at all costs. Always. Until yesterday.

I’m still on my dad’s health insurance until I turn the ripe old age of 26. He figured by then either J-Bird or I would have a (real) job that actually offered health benefits (fat chance), so he agreed to keep me on his insurance even after I got married. Yesterday my dad called me on my lunch break to let me know that he had received a letter from my doctor that he thought was supposed to go to me, but he didn’t know that until after he opened it.

I’m on several medications, so of course I hoped that it was regarding my iron pills. My dad’s uncomfortable tone told a different story, The, uh, letter says that your, you know…BC pills aren’t covered by the insurance. Yea. He actually said “BC”. Oh, I knew that. I’m sorry that they sent that to you. I told my doctor that they weren’t covered, so they shouldn’t have even tried. I tried to play it cool. Well, if they just say it’s for your you know and not for the other stuff that you’re using it for than they might cover it. I’m surprised I was keeping up with this conversation. Dad, I’ve been on birth control for 5 years for my heavy you know. It’s not a big deal. It originally had nothing to do with the other stuff. Great. Now he knows I have sex. Not that he couldn’t have assumed. But I’d have rather it stayed that. An assumption.

So, yea, Dad, uh…did you get that email I sent? I attached some of my photography.

This is why I steer clear of serious conversations with my dad. And I never got the sex talk as a kid.