Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Happy about a yeast infection?

Say what?

I have chronic yeast infections on the skin of my lower abdomen and pubic area. Summer heat and sweat aggravate this, but I think the overhang of excess tissue there is the worst culprit, no matter what the season. About 10 months ago, my GYN prescribed Diflucan (a one-dose RX pill) and the rash disappeared within 3 days. A few months later, it was back. I've tried OTC creams (Clotrimazole), but they don't seem to help. Although the weather is very cold now (12 degrees, minus something with the wind chill factor - unheard of for this area) and I am never warm, the rash is back, with itching this time. So I went back to the doctor today - saw her partner since she had an emergency. He gave me another RX for Diflucan, with one refill (no more after that because of potential liver damage) and advice about how to manage the condition (use cornstarch on the skin and/or apply a panty liner to the affected area to absorb moisture).

I said, "One day I may want to have plastic surgery to remove the tissue overhanging my pubic area. My insurance might pay for a panniculectomy if I can provide medical documentation, including photos. Would you be willing to do that?"

He said, "Sure, if our camera is working."

Their camera was not working - they lost the USB cable. Replacing it would require a 2-minute drive to Wal-Mart, but they agreed to accept any photos I provide and upload them to my medical record. I was delighted! When I got home, I got out my camera and pulled down my pants and...oh no, the memory card was full. I had taken the Diflucan about 2 minutes after I left the pharmacy, and it was working already, so it was a race to empty the memory card, take some truly disgusting photos of the affected area (while lifting my belly upward) before the rash disappeared, and burn the images to a CD. Luckily, there were 3 usable images, 1 of them very good, the other 2 adequate.

I have to say, after looking at those photos, I just do not understand why that part of me appeals to my husband. I suspect that it isn't the look, but the feel of it, he likes. He's such a good guy - loved me fat, loves me not-so-fat.

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