And now, an important lesson about estrogen

I know that I have been concealing my post-hysterectomy hormone issues so well that you are all shocked and amazed to learn that estrogen--or the lack thereof--is a major issue on what is left of my rapidly-failing, hormone-deprived brain. Nonetheless, for those readers who are female, I have some important information to share. (For those readers who are male, either skip this entry or read ahead and then feel superior as you bask in testosterone. I don't mind. Someday your prostate will be as big as my deformed ovary was, and then I will have sweet revenge.)

Women need estrogen. It does lots of stuff. It helps prevent osteoporosis and life-crippling mood swings and... uhhhh... other good things like that. So if you are lucky enough to have a total hysterectomy well before the menopause years, your doctor will want you to take estrogen to enhance the quality of your life and prevent you from suing her later on. It will then take approximately until you have reached what would've been your menopause years to figure out the correct balance of dosages and whatnot, but hey, it's only time and your sanity, right? That is not today's issue.

Accepting as a given that the magic hormonal balance will not be struck any time in the near future, the focus in the meantime should be to minimize any sense of freakishness while waiting to feel human again.

Here we have a lovely picture of the Mylan brand estradiol patch. (Sorry, Genuine, that's not my butt.) This is the first patch I tried after the whole Combipatch seasickness disaster. (And in case I forgot to report, discontinuing the progestin source cleared up the nausea quite nicely.) Now, this isn't a fabulous picture, although the model does have a lovely derriere, and I think mine looked like that, once, maybe when I was 16 or so, but anyway (could you please stick to the topic at hand?), what you may notice right off about this picture is that the Mylan patch is enormous. Huge. Super-gigantic. In fact, should you look very closely, what you will realize is that it looks an awful lot like an overgrown version of another product that you probably wouldn't want people to notice you wearing. And let's remember our priority here: minimizing any sense of freakishness. Would you feel comfortable and attractive with a gargantuan corn pad stuck to your ass? No, you would not. And in fact this patch is thick enough to show through clothing, and has enough writing on it to actually be read through light-colored cloth, all of which means that one's sense of Total Freak will be expanded about a thousandfold. Therefore, the Mylan patch is a poor option unless you enjoy that sort of thing, which by God I hope you don't.

Okay, now we have determined that the Mylan patch was made by misogynists. Surprise! So what other option do you have, because in the name of all that is good and pure you can feel your bones crumbling this very moment??
Relax. There is a better option. Climara patches deliver the same product, at the same dosages (four to choose from! oh boy!), in a clear, small, wafer-thin patch. They're so damn cute, you can use them to make flower petals for the logo! Ain't it grand? Plus, where else can you check out a multimedia presentation of all the things going wrong with your body now? And for added fun, if you apply the new Climara patch right after you've gotten out of the shower--before you've put on your glasses--you may then spend several fun-filled minutes on the floor, frantically searching for the dropped patch, because in fact the patch is firmly adhered to your posterior but without your corrective lenses, you couldn't see it. Not that that's ever happened to me, this morning or any other time. Ahem. But with Climara? You can totally go back to feeling like a freak for non-hormonal reasons, like because of your hair and the unforgiving humidity. Yay!

I hope today's lesson has been illuminating. I'm all about bringing education to the masses.