An Open Letter: It’s Almost Valentine's Day and My UTI Still Won’t Go Away
Dear God,
It’s me, Maggie! It’s been three weeks since the last time I’ve had sex with my boyfriend and there’s still an excruciating pain every time I pee, sit in a chair and/or even think about penetration. My gynecologist told me that I must be prone to UTIs since I’ve called her five times since Thanksgiving, but I’m starting to think that the first UTI I ever got just never went away. I don’t think she understands that it’s almost Valentine’s Day and I need this infection GONE by February 14th. I planned for my boyfriend and I to go to The Melting Pot... we’ve never been to The Melting Pot and NOT fucked immediately in the parking lot after each course. That’s at least three times, God!
I understand that I forgot to pee once last November after that house party, but the theme was Colonialism, and you know I can’t resist Jason in a red coat and a shoe with a buckle. I took an advanced public health class, so I felt like I was just way past just peeing out bacteria. I figured if I showed the section in my textbook about natural family planning, fertility cycles and pulling out to Catholics everywhere you'd reward me, but I guess not, huh? Now I’m just peeing orange from the Azo and seeing blood-in-my-urinary-tract-red from the frustration. I thought by now I’d become immune to the shitty over the counter medicine, but both my vagina AND my heart are numb to the Valentine's Day playlist I filled with SZA and Bon Iver. Apparently, it’s not a turn on to whisper “U-T-I love you” before we try and put the tip in. He said not even “The Weekend” playing in the background could change that.
So, God, if you’re real or care about my sex life at all, please grant me my one wish: cure my never-ending Urinary Tract Infection. My boyfriend and I definitely have things to talk about and over the pants stuff can be fun, but there’s one day a year when we get to make single people jealous. He splurged on whipped cream designated ONLY for my body, and I’m worried the medicine will make it curdle. I don’t ask for much, and I know I’m mostly atheist, but I’m really fucking tired of our sex life being reduced to blowjobs. If you don’t cure my UTI for me, cure it for my poor, poor jaw.
Love,
Maggie