Or falling naked into a vat of boiling lava. Or auditioning for a musical.
But there are few things worse than a beach trip yeast infection.
(Men, you may be well-served skipping this blog, for it contains some unsettling details about this lady malady.)
And for those men
I should have known it was coming. I had just finished a round of antibiotics. It was day 2 at the beach. The itch began.
As you probably know, it is literally impossible to satisfy a yeast infection itch. Once itched, the itch intensifies. Exponentially.
Not to mention the fact that it is socially inappropriate to attempt said itch in public.
I was walking on the beach when I first felt it. Oh, how I wanted to itch it.
I found that walking like a beauty contestant, tightly crossing one leg over the other with each step, helped. But there was something incongruous with the whole look.
(I suppose a tiara may have helped.)
Needless to say, wearing wet bathing suits exacerbates a yeast infection, making a beach trip yeast infection a bit of a problem.
There is an over-the-counter medication for yeast infections, Monistat, which is quite delightful. Allow me to describe the treatment. You stick a little egg up your va-jay-jay, lance it open with a dagger, and let the medicinal slime drool from the egg all over your lady parts.
(It's best to do this while in a prone position.)
Monistat used to be the only option for yeast infections. Until Ken Richards invented Diflucan.
I love Ken Richards.
I paid 48¢ for my Diflucan pill at the pharmacy in Beaufort on Wednesday. "I would have paid $48 for that pill," I commented, as I moved from leg to leg attempting to satisfy my internal itch in a socially acceptable way.
And you know what? In what must be the most egregious omission of all time, Ken Richards is not on the list of the greatest heroes of history.
My Superman was overlooked.
Within a day I was able to keep my hands off myself for hours at a time. My beach yeast infection was a thing of the past.
If it weren't for Ken, I'd be reloading my netherlands with a slime-filled egg.
Speaking of eggs, there is another market for Monistat. Apparently, it works wonders on chickens suffering from "sour crop". Here's a quote I found on a raising chickens website:
Add me to the "trying Monistat" bandwagon. This is my first flock of chickens, but I've had them for two years and they've been perfectly healthy until Comet started acting funny a few days ago. From all I've read, I believe her to have sour crop. I have her in the house and just force fed her the first piece of Monistat 3 suppository.
WTH? The chicken "ate" the Monistat egg?
Maybe they should have given Comet some Diflucan. I'll bet it works better. And faster. With no mess.
I'm just not sure which end it should go in.