Papi and I are really meant to be.
I was terrified that the hormones were going to create a monster of a spouse.
I've been proven wrong. People will get extra boisterous because of the testosterone factor, but there really has to be an already existing anger management issue.
Papi and I laugh our way through most of the 'issues' people have in relationships, and I didn't want that to change.
The 'angry' person has never arrived, other than the fact that my love is a little more aggressive in terms of road rage, but mi esposo has promised to work on this.
At the same time, I have to work on believing Papi's truths vs. myths. I'm slowly letting go of my own crazy ideas that pop into this overly creative brain.
I'm not so worried about the anger issue coming up anymore. My love has proven to me that I still get my silly spouse, even if he is growing man hair.
Now to Papi's side of the fence.
My love abhors pot heads. This is why mi esposo would rather have me taking the pharmaceutical companies drugs instead of nature's offering for pain.
Well, if I'm going to be stuck with this pain for the rest of my life, then I really need to look at long term pain management, and pills that would rot my liver are not really a great option in my books.
So, I got approved for medicinal marijuana and took a trip to the The Medicinal Cannabis Dispensary here in Vancouver.
They don't really know what kind of dose I need to get past the point of pain, so they gave me a bit of a starter kit.
They gave me an infused iced tea and a 'Budder' bar, where the infused honey is what's holding this delicious looking edible together.
I was also recommended being given Snake Bite Oil for the nerve issue specifically.
Sounds gross, tastes gross, and at first made me a little nauseas.
However, all it took were two little drops per hourly dose of this magical serum, and I actually felt like I could cook a dinner for myself.
I've been snacking for the past couple of weeks. Really not eating healthy, just trying to get the most nutrients I can without moving too much.
So, to be able to cook was great joy for me. Getting those lush, organic greens into my body instantly gave me more energy, and I had more mobility to use it.
Ok. No problem, until the 3rd dose. I had a moment of pot head snickers and Papi was not impressed.
The giggle attack.
My love doesn't want to see the giggle attack, because then I'm a full fledged pot head.
I removed myself from the room to try to contain my giggles, but inevitably I would snort out a chuff.
Then I heard it, "Andréa? What are you doing?" in such a tone that it felt like I was a bad little girl who got caught sneaking cookies before my dinner.
I couldn't hold it in any longer and the bursts of laughter came out. Papi wasn't happy, "See! This is what I didn't want! I don't want a pot head for a wife! I hate pot heads!"
Well, that just made me laugh all the harder, because whether you're on something or not, when you're not supposed to laugh, it makes you laugh all the more.
I needed a time out.
I had to sit and get serious, or my love will not be impressed.
way to harsh my mellow dude ...
Eventually, the giggles calmed down and Papi said, "Well, I guess the non-stop giggles are better than the non-stop whining."
irk! i prefer to call it wincing in pain, not whining. this femme doesn't whine!
Exactly my dear.
And you know what?
If this femme's perfect butch is replaced with a Tranny with man hair for a spouse, then Papi can deal with a gimpy, limpy, pot head for a wife.
Tou-fucking-ché and somewhere, we'll meet in the middle.
My love soon realized where the issue with pot heads came from, and we had a long txt chat about it.
It's my love's turn to work on this fear, just like I had to work on the hormones fear.
We were really meant to be here for each other to help each other over our 'issues' aren't we?