Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Your Mother's Acne
During an attack of the devil-may-care two months ago, I decided to stop taking my bio-identical, locally grown, politically correct hormones. I'm feeling great, I thought. I accept myself, thick ankles, worry wrinkles, dry skin and all. What do I need hormones for? When the bottles ran out, I just stopped taking my morning and evening doses. Immediately, I experienced a feeling of peace and a sense of maturity.
Nearly just as immediately, I developed a colony of zits on my chin. No matter how much water I drank, how little fat I ate, or how much sleep I got, the zits stayed. Then, they decided in a city council vote to expand the border of their borough, and fenced off their new metropolis with -- you guessed it -- more zits. My chin is now a sad, bumpy place. I think there is a drug trade starting up in one of the newer neighborhoods.
So, no longer feeling quite so secure in my peaceful maturity, I called the nice people at the New Hampshire compounding pharmacy and refilled my prescriptions for estradiol and progesterone. I think I will kiss each one of those little pills when they arrive -- right before I tell them to go forth and kick butt.