fat shaming
Growing up fat in a thin-obsessed culture led me to a case file at the hospital that is more than 2,000 pages long.
My #1 priority was a healthy baby, but escaping pain was a close second.
organ donation
My coordinator would send me packages full of test tubes, I would have a nurse fill them with my blood, and then I would FedEx them to various places in the country. It was like a morbid and boring hobby.
This post may or may not include opiates, a butthole, and a butter knife.
breast reduction
Or: I Went to the Drugstore High on Morphine and Ativan After Surgery and Bought a Bunch of Beauty Products
At almost 30 years old now, I can finally (sort of) admit that my feelings of shame are ridiculous; I have nothing to be ashamed of, and ignorant people are ignorant.
reproductive rights
As requested, I wrote this while under the influence of the good drugs from the hospital.
I admit, my gut reaction to this was "Ugh," followed by "Are you kidding me with this?" But then I thought about it some more -- and there are actually other reasons people wear bras, besides trying to fit a narrow beauty ideal.

May 16, 2014 at 5:00pm | 110 comments

Most days I laid in bed and suffered, convinced that either I had some kind of cancer eating me from the inside out that no doctor could find, or that they were right and there was nothing wrong with me and the pain was an invention of my twisted mind.
birth control
“F*ck ovaries,” I was prepared to say, “and their stupid little eggs too. Let’s do this thing! Sterilisation now, ovulation never!”
Hyperhidrosis made my hands and feet drip sweat all the time, so I went under the knife to make it stop.
My own accident left me with the same injuries as Victoria -- a crushed jaw, a liquefied eye socket and pulverized cheekbones.

Jun 17, 2014 at 3:00pm | 67 comments

i'm so excited i could pee
Dude, you’re about to cram a tenaculum up my cooter while I’m unconscious and strapped to an operating table, I think I can handle you looking at my tits.
At first I noticed little things -- my cup size B Victoria’s Secret bra looked a bit obscene, my button-down shirts kept popping open at the chest. Then my nipples stretched and expanded until they looked like enormous pink flying saucers.
cervical cancer
With this surgery, apparently you have lots of crazy gross things happen as you’re healing, like gross black chunks from the cauterization coming out, and I can’t use tampons or have sex until I am examined and cleared.
From 2002 and on, I basically never stepped foot on a beach and, if I did, I was always fully clothed.
It began with intense vulvar itching that kept me up at night and caused me to scratch until I bled. My long fingernails were frequently caked with blood and skin as I clawed into bar soap in attempts to clean them.
getting pregnant with michelle tea
Smoking is for single people. Now that I found Dashiell, I want to live forever.
I was fortunate enough to have four nipples. Granted the third and fourth were a good three inches below my primaries, and they were small. But I didn’t like them.
missing ovary
I know, logically, that it was the mass -- an accident, a twist of fate, a force of nature -- that took my ovary away. But in my heart, I can’t help but mourn, both for the children those eggs might have become, and for the space in my body where there was once an organ that now is empty.