A sign of how much I hate Pranayama is that I'm actually glad it's May, for which the theme is meditation. Only my hatred of Pranayama can make me appreciate meditation.
Speaking of things I hate..
You may remember about two years ago, my doctor noticed I had some fibroids. I was somewhat miffed that these things had been inside me for awhile and my doctor's excuse for not noticing them before was that I had lost so much weight. In other words, she didn't find them during my yearly exam when I was a 191 pound whale. I paid some good money for the ultrasound to confirm they were there and then more money to have a consultation with an ob-gyn, who basically said "wait and see." Meaning wait a year and pay another chunk of change for another ultra sound.
Since I turned 50 in 2014, my doctor was rather avid for me to have a colonoscopy. I was equally adamant not to have one, mostly due to the discomfort of the prep, as well as having to take a day to do it.
The only real leverage my doctor had over me to make me deal with any of this crap was the fact that I was on the pill and terrified of getting pregnant...in spite of being 50 and not a hint of a scare in about 25 years. Last March, I decided (without consulting my doctor) to stop taking my pills. My fake periods were getting really gross and you know...50!!!.
So for a year: No pills, no periods, no pregnancy, no hot flashes, no mood swings that I could discern beyond my usual crazy.
And no visits to the doctor. Basically I just opted out of the whole medical system. I've been trusting my Paleo/Nutrient Dense diet, yoga, meditation, mantra and good vibes to keep me healthy.
Then I wore a pair of overly tight jeans (EGO!!!!) and took a very hip-intensive yoga class the next day (EGO!!!) and ended up in excruciating agony and in House-esque need of a re-up of my Flexeril prescription with a Vicodin chaser.
And just for fun I got what looked suspiciously like a period, so I had to throw a Peri- in front of what I had self-diagnosed as menopause.
My doctor wasn't too bitchy about the whole thing. She gave me the drugs and kindly said we needed to "update my records" or some such, which translates into getting my mammogram, colonoscopy, blood work and an ultrasound.
I'm starting today with the least annoying, which is the mammogram.
The other three are all really annoying and will provide genuine financial, physical and/or emotional discomfort.
The bloodwork needs a fasting blood draw, which my eating disorder doesn't appreciate. The colonoscopy requires the whole disgusting process of emptying the colon, which also bugs me because I work very hard at keeping my gut biome happy and healthy, so a mass genocide of the bacteria is not a nice thing to do.
And for the Ultra sound, I have to drink a ton of water and then not pee...and pay more money, although I do have better insurance right now and there's a nice amount building up in my HSA.
Still. Not. Thrilled.
The moral is: Don't wear tight pants.