Intro to Flashback Fridays and Accutane Adventures

Helloooooo! Hello! Is anybody out there?!
Yes, I am still here, I promise. Even though my computer is blocking my blog link.. That's strange, but yeah. I just haven't blogged in quite a while. I haven't had the time! But, since I was gone for Girl's Camp, EFY, and then a surprise stay in North Georgia, there's a lot I could talk about, but won't. Chiefly, because I don't want to strain my tiny brain and try and think of all the blog-worthy things that happened in the past three weeks, and also, I have more recent things I'd like to blog about right now. So, in honour of me skipping over half of my summer, I am going to start a little tradition! I am going to start Flashback Fridays!

I find that at times, what was going on in my life ten years ago was a lot more fun and simple and easier than what is going on in it right now. I tell Noah all these dumb stories of mine about me as a kid and the goofy and freakish things I used to do, and he says they're really funny and cute. Whether he is just being a sweet boyfriend, or that I did have an intriguing childhood, I'm not sure, I'll give it a try. So whenever I have nothing to blog about on dreary Fridays, it will be Flashback Friday time, which will include things from Trek, Camp,and EFY as well.
BUT NOW. FOR THE MAIN EVENT.
I hate doctors. I hate the medical field. I hate hospitals. I hate latex gloves and white coats. I run from anyone that has a MD, GP, RN, LPN, or OB/GYN following their name. I don't like them. Every doctor and dentist appointment can be summed up by them getting paid to make me cry and tell me things I don't want to hear. I never forget to bring tissues in my purse to appointments.

So  yesterday's adventure was traumatizing. I went to a dermatologist. I'll let you in a on a little secret. The reason behind me being so against going to a dermatologist is because I have a theory that there is no cure to clear skin. Clear skin is a conspiracy for people like me. So I think yesterday was a waste of time.
And a waste of tears.
After being touched by about every white coat in the friggin' building, they all hopped on the Accutane train. "You need Accutane. Your insurance will pay for Accutane. You'll be on Accutane for six months only. Accurtane can give you (insert list of every malfunction a person could obtain OTHER than acne)."
I am so against Accutane, I started to cry.
Okay, I just don't like needles. And since Accutane is SUCH a DANGEROUS medication, you have to get a pregnancy test every month to be sure I'm not messing up some baby's life if I were to be pregnant while on Accutane. Which means. Blood work.
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.
Now that would be a show. Doctors would make sure they came into work the day Cindy Davis was getting a needle shot up into her vein sucking out the stream of life that runs all throughout her tiny body. I am so against needles, you don't understand.
The second the doctor started throwing around the word "Accutane" like it was some glorious gift from God, I cried. And cried. And cried. AND CRIED. I cried for I think at least a solid forty-five minutes after we left the office. It was terrible. I ran out of tissues.
I came home and read article after article about side effects of Accutance. After reading EVERYTHING that can possibly go wrong, I have no idea, not the slightest understanding of why ANYONE would take Accutane. It boggles my mind.
I'm not agreeing with it. I'm just agreeing to do it. And why I am, I don't even know. Accutane is going to kill me before I even get on it. But, I also thought Trek was going to kill me. But here I am. Risking my life and sanity with Accutance. I'll keep you guys posted, but now, I gotta go see a therapist. Go figure. Don't forget to smile today!

You're welcome.^