I gave the good ‘ol finger to modern medicine and antibiotics and said a very respectful, thank you but F you and your drugs, today.

That’s not entirely true. I did say a very respectful, thank you, but only silently said the, f you. And to the drugs.

Modern medicine is wonderful, it truly is. It saves lives day in and day out and I for real can’t imagine living back in the dark ages or whatever the hell all those ages were where our ancestors died from colds. Um yeah. No thanks to go back to those eras.

However. In our modern times, I tend to often times think that we are relying too much on medicine as our crutch. Healthcare in our country is at an all time high and it is one of the most lucrative businesses there is.

Now. There is nothing wrong with making money off sick people. We should charge for all of our services but when our fellow People can’t afford the medicine they need to fight cancer because it’s thousands of dollars — that is just plain ludicrous. How we deny, day in and day out, our own sisters and brothers, neighbors and parents the basic care they need — is beyond me.

This morning I had an appointment with a breast specialist. And what exactly is a “breast specialist” you ask? Damn good question. I saw one and I can’t even really tell you other than she mainly deals with a lot of cancers. She is also the 15th person to see my boobs. Could be more, probably is.

My appointment that took one hour, but really about three in total if I count the amount of time it took to feed FOH, prep in general, leave the house, and then retrace these steps. There’s nothing like feeling as though your time has been a complete waste.

This hits a particularly sensitive nerve as I have never valued my time more than I do now. I also, as previously mentioned, feel that these past few weeks have been centered around appointments. I’ve had two every damn week. I know that might not sound like a lot, but considering one appointment is pretty much my entire day — that’s a lot for me in my current hazy baby state.

I have no idea what I’d be doing without TC at the moment — he drives us to every appointment and is so patient and helpful and supportive and omfg, he better not decide to check out anytime soon because I need him; we all do.

So the earth shattering news and course of mastitis treatment from the breast “specialist”? More antibiotics. And not just any antibiotic. One that the majority of health insurances do not cover. It is one of the single most expensive antibiotics that exists.

Talk about f-ing ridiculous.

She wanted to prescribe me Bactrim, but it’s so heavy duty that you can’t go on it till your baby is at least four weeks old {if breast feeding}. This was an immediate and alarming red flag for me — if it’s so called “safe” at four weeks — what the hell difference does the previous four weeks matter?

Supposedly at four weeks, newborns are able to metabolize the small amount that gets passed into their system from nursing. I wasn’t buying it. No way in hell am I going to give my brand spanking new son an antibiotic that if not properly broken down by his still forming system, will go directly to the brain. Sounds super. Not to mention, oh so safe.

I left that appointment, trashed the antibiotic prescription, covered FOH’s ears and F’d you’d my little heart out.

If two antibiotics haven’t done a damn thing I didn’t exactly have high hopes and confidence a third {and a fourth!} were going to make a difference and I just felt that my system — and FOH’s — needed a break; a reset.

So. I decided to hit up my local homeopathic store and quiz the owner on everything she knew about mastitis. This chick knows her shit. She explained that really what mastitis comes down to is, a fungus. Pure and simple as that.

After birth, progesterone levels plummet. They are non existent in my body at the moment, meanwhile, estrogen levels sky rocket. Too much estrogen mixed in with cracks in the nipple and milk flow allow for this fungus to begin a breeding ground.

I’m now on a probiotic, as is FOH — his is in a powder form that I have to sprinkle over my nips before feeding and which I was told would protect the nips at the same time. Score! I swear it’s already working.

She was pretty confident that by Tuesday, me and my boobs will both be feeling world’s better.

I tried the traditional medicinal route with my doctor{s}. It didn’t work and that was my sign to search for natural remedies to help put my body back in balance.

As I said — there is absolutely a time and a place for drugs. No doubt! Hell, I’m the first to usually cave to them but when something isn’t working, it’s time to seek alternative solutions.

My boobs and I shall keep you informed on homeopathic, probiotic progress.