Since When Am I A Uterus With Legs?

So, I landed myself in the hospital. Not exactly news worthy unto itself, I am very much acquainted with those hallowed halls of healing. But now, with the FDA pushing their ridiculous pre-pregnancy treatment, it's become quite an ordeal.

I honestly don't give two flying fucks about keeping my body in the optimal health for childbearing. I will never bear children. I don't want to, and besides that, I can't. My body is much too screwed up for me to be able to go through a pregnancy, let alone a birth. Now let's put that aside and look at the fact that my uterus is malformed. Okay, so what have we got here? Malformed uterus, no desire to have children, physical conditions that essentially prevent a successful pregnancy. I'd think this would be a simple thing for doctors to understand.

But no! I have a uterus, and therefor could become pregnant! And I must be given medical care to ensure that when that happens (because obviously, everything with a uterus gets knocked up) I'm in the right health for my non-existent fetus!

My medications have been changed, since one of the ones I was on can cause birth defects. I'm being bullied into quitting smoking. My medicinal marijuana? Bye bye to that, even though it's the one thing that stops my seizures! Screw me and my pain, we have to protect that magical and non-existing fetus!

This is insane. When the hell did we go back to being nothing more than walking uterus's? When did life that doesn't exist yet become more important than life that already exists?

I am not my uterus. I am not just a vessel for some future spawn. I am a human being, and I am in pain, and I want to be treated for myself - no one else.

This? This is why I have so many issues with pro-lifers. Life doesn't even begin at conception anymore, it begins at the mother's puberty, apparently! I have no words to explain how fucked up that is.

Oh, America. Where are you going, in your big shiny car?

And The Floodgates Open....

Life? Is hard.

There are no arguments against that statement. There is no one claim that can be made to the contrary. No one can dispute this fact. Life is hard.

This doesn't mean life is bad. Nowhere am I claiming life is bad, or horrible, or that we should all just resign ourselves to an existence of self loathing. Hell, one of the things that makes life the wonderful thing that it is is the fact that it's hard.

We all have it rough. It doesn't matter who we are or where we live or who are parents are. We've all got our hurdles and our challenges and our downs. We all face adversaries. This isn't going to be some diatribe about how much harder I have it than anyone else. This isn't some pissing contest about who's life is worse than who's. Let's not play those silly little games.

But this is going to be full of complaints. Who doesn't love a good complaint? I'm a dyke with a disability, I've got a lot to complain about. But keep in mind, please, that much of what you read here will be tongue-in-cheek.

After all, what good is posting to the masses unless it's entertaining?