Oh Yeah--That's What I Hated...
I started back on testosterone gel this morning for the pituitary tumor. I forgot how much I hate the stuff. It's a gel applied to the shoulders and upper arms.
It smells like rubbing alcohol (and something else I'm not fond of), and as it's applied, you either hold your breath or inhale that crap.
I feel like everything I touch is contaminated with testosterone gel, and it's important not to have Cynthia exposed to the stuff. I have my whole routine to ensure she never touches the stuff and that none gets on anything, but it brings out the OCD neat freak side of me.
When I wake up sleepy, I need to remember that hair creme goes in the hair, not testosterone gel. Testosterone gel goes on the shoulders and arms--not hair creme.
I hate that even when the stuff dries, it remains tacky and my shirt sticks to it, bunching up and driving me nuts for hours.
And the thing I really hate about it...Cynthia can't touch my shoulders and upper arms anymore, or she'll grow a mustache or beard.
It smells like rubbing alcohol (and something else I'm not fond of), and as it's applied, you either hold your breath or inhale that crap.
I feel like everything I touch is contaminated with testosterone gel, and it's important not to have Cynthia exposed to the stuff. I have my whole routine to ensure she never touches the stuff and that none gets on anything, but it brings out the OCD neat freak side of me.
When I wake up sleepy, I need to remember that hair creme goes in the hair, not testosterone gel. Testosterone gel goes on the shoulders and arms--not hair creme.
I hate that even when the stuff dries, it remains tacky and my shirt sticks to it, bunching up and driving me nuts for hours.
And the thing I really hate about it...Cynthia can't touch my shoulders and upper arms anymore, or she'll grow a mustache or beard.