Snippets and other misc. shit

I’m sick. Sick as in I want to crawl into bed and stay there because my head is so fucking congested right now and the back of my throat is so seriously itchy I am thinking about sticking a fork down my throat so I can scratch it.  Thankfully I could in fact do that, I have no gag reflex. At least not in the traditional sense.

That however is a story best saved for another day.

How did I get sick? My little ‘boyfriend’ (AKA favorite baby at work, not my actual boyfriend) KG sneezed. In. My. Mouth.  Last week he was all sick and cranky and he just loves me so of course I pick him up and try to comfort him and that was the thanks I got in return.  I’ve been fighting it all week, but of course today it hits me like a fucking Mac truck and I feel like ass.


So anyway, today being good Friday and all, work was a lot more lax.  So much in fact that I didn’t have much to do and left before 2pm. That almost never happens as while handy, that’s going to hurt come payday…  Anyway instead of doing something useful like cleaning my office or working on my new cake website because that just takes far too much effort… So I come on here to bitch and whine about being sick and other random nonsense that spews forth in my mind.

So today, I stumbled upon the following (in no particular order):


Yeah I know it’s blasphemous and I don’t give a shit…  I’m going to hell in every religion anyway and that happened loooooooooooooong before this post happened.  

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Penis envy, health regulations and tattoos

*Fair warning TMI post to follow in some area’s.  Can’t say I didn’t warn you!*

One hot button topic that seems to be forever in the minds of the most dedicated modification artists and connoisseur’s (I am talking about the die hard collectors and enthusiasts, not the kid who has one or two to “look cool”) is regulation of the industry.  Because you know what?

There isn’t one.

Yeah that’s right.  Modification artists pretty much set their own “rules” when it comes to age and so forth and all the one’s that I know personally follow the golden unwritten rule of being at least 16 for some piercings and 18+ for those of a sexual nature.  They practice the most sterile techniques, keep themselves up to date on what’s what and stay informed.  This is one aspect what makes them so damn good at what they do: They treat your health and well being with the utmost respect and have your well being in mind and you also get a kick ass accessory to boot, so hey why not right?  I love me some shiny new tattoos!

So what does this have to do with my penis envy and regulations as a whole?

Everything! (This is where the TMI comes in)

I had to buckle down and see my OBGYN yesterday (YAY ME o_O) as in your know my Dr. for my girly bits.  I HATE and I do mean hate going there.  Now don’t get me wrong Dr. G overall is pretty cool.  Except for yesterday, he was being a bit of a huge ass douche.  My appointment ran later then anticipated, not my fault of course.  *I* was there on time and got to cool my heels for almost an hour.  Not an excuse to act like a total dick.  I don’t give a flying fuck how many vagina’s your hands been up that day buddy, I don’t like lying on this fucking table trussed up like a damn turkey either but hey YOU had the choice to go into OBGYN, I however had NO say in my gender.

If I did, I would much prefer to be a man.  Men don’t have gynecologists that invade their space every 6 months.

So I’m sitting there, waiting for him to come in sans pants wearing socks and my hoodie.  Straight out of a scene of bad 80’s porn right there!  So I was taking a deeper look at my surroundings since I had nothing else to do.  Big ass bag of these awesome, disposable speculum (non sterile of course) and a big ass box of cervical scrapers (sounds pleasant doesn’t it?) also NON sterile and a pile of culture catchers as in glass slides, ALSO NON sterile.  Along with a big ass tube of generic medical lube which my Dr. is a little too generous with and always makes my vag itch (thanks Dr. G).  Anyway, he walks in throws on some gloves without washing his hands first (WTF?) until I pointed out that he wasn’t touching me until he had done so.  I seen the 4 vag woman that walked out before me and it makes me wonder if he didn’t wash his hands with them either?  I mean seriously?  Fucking nasty!


Reminds me of this post that Shannon wrote and the picture he snapped in the hospital!  (Oh if your wondering what a hyfrecator is, read up on it here. (which makes that image 100 times more nasty) also this entry (second picture in) makes my skin crawl.
And I got to thinking that these instruments and the like are going to be introduced to the most intimate place on my body.  All of which are just sitting out there, in the open with countless people walking in and out of that office day after day after day.  Crawling with God knows what type of germs and bacteria!  Oh but yes, please do use those on my girly bits with your UN-washed hands!

The health industry is clearly not as regulated as one would think and as Shannon said:”I mentioned in the previous entry that when I was at the hospital last I was disturbed that the hyfrecator tool was covered in blood. The doctor blamed this on the residents who do a poor job (it’s not the first time I’ve seen stray blood at this particular hospital), but I wanted to mention that it bothered me that their clean tools are kept in a bin that pretty much overlaps with their overflowing container of dirty tools. It’s my feeling that the two — contaminated tools and clean/sterile tools — need to be kept completely separate and everything possible should be done to minimize the risk of cross contamination…
Is this going to cause a problem? Probably not, but it easily could, and really, it just reeks of low standards and a sloppy thought process. It bothers me to no end that tattoo studios and to a lesser extent estheticians’ studios are beaten to death with high standards in these areas, but that hospitals, doctors, and dentists — who should know better by virtue of their educations — don’t seem to give a damn.”

So when I headed over to Ania’s blog and read one of her latest finds that involve the modification industry I got to thinking about my Dr’s appointments vs my tattoo appointments and whose hands I feel safer touching my body.

My conclusion?

My modification artists win hands down.  Not ONCE, have I EVER felt “UN-safe” with anyone who’s done work on me.  Both shops that I frequent have separate area’s for hand washing, sterilization and sterilized equipment.  Not ONCE have I ever had to request that they wash their hands, or noticed anything that would question or concern my overall health and well being.  It’s sad for me to think that they know more about proper health practices and  sanitation then my gyno does.  Which is pretty disturbing.  Sadly, getting a new Dr. isn’t as simple as finding a good tattoo artist.  Which isn’t always as easy either but I digress.

What also get’s me is that if I was to forget my medicare card it would cost me $100.00 for about 10 mins of his precious time where I felt dehumanized at this last visit (usually he’s pretty chill) whereas that same amount of money would buy me an hour of my artists time and not only do I feel at home, 100% comfortable and like the fucking person I am, I first and foremost feel safe.  I also feel as if I am being heard.  My gyno? Not so much.  Selective hearing much?  I think so.  Douche.    I trust my artists with my life and have complete faith that they’ll take care of me and do what they can to ensure that everything is as clean and sterile as it can be.  Whereas that same clinic that a person I know also goes there for her annual exam found out over a year later from a previous smear that she had cervical cancer and had to have a hysterectomy before she was 40.  WTF?

Now you tell me, who’s more on the ball here?  Modification artists or Doctors?

Yes there are some horrendously shady modification artists out there, no doubt.  Yet there is a continual witch hunt in the modification industry that the government has yet to step in and regulate, even when tattoo artists are begging for it at this point and yet we’re supposed to respect the people who are supposed to take care of us because they have medical degree’s.  Having a fancy piece of paper don’t mean a damn thing if your not doing what your supposed to be doing, let alone doing it right.

Now due to an undiagnosed problem that’s related to my lady parts, I have to get a pelvic and vaginal ultrasound.  I’ll save how I feel about that later.  Although I will say this much: I will be riding that technicians ass like no one’s business because a damn condom DOES NOT replace proper cleaning procedures and I am shuddering in disgust already just thinking about how many woman have had that shoved up their crotch.

In fact, I’ll bring my own antibacterial wipes and hospital grade germicide just to satisfy my germaphobia.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!  Seriously.  Did I mention EW? Because the thought… Oh God…  If it wasn’t so important, I wouldn’t bother.

PS: In my next life, I would like to be male.  That would be awesome!  Why?  Because boys don’t need to deal with this shit!  I have penis envy really bad right now.