What? Don’t think I’ve got the minerals?

Nothing like pissing out a bunch of supplements, I always say.

Calcium is to combat bone marrow suppression caused by the Imuran, while the multivitamin serves to keep my urethra full of vitamins C, D and B70jillion.

But the little guy? The one on the right, preening in his modest yellow heap?

He is special.

That’s my birth-defect control!

Unfortunately I don’t have any documentation on the type of birth defects Imuran causes, except for the exciting warning Walgreen’s prints on their Complete Patient Information:

“FOR WOMEN: THIS MEDICINE HAS BEEN SHOWN TO CAUSE HARM to the human fetus. Avoid becoming pregnant while you are taking this medicine. IF YOU THINK YOU MAY BE PREGNANT, contact your doctor immediately. This medicine should not be used to treat rheumatoid arthritis in pregnant women. THIS MEDICINE IS EXCRETED IN BREAST MILK. DO NOT BREAST-FEED while taking this medicine.”

CAPSLOCK = We are serious, bitches. (or was it serious bitches?) (or was it triple eyes? Like an eye in the middle of the forehead, how incredible would THAT be?)

According to my esteemed gutwatcher, the above is really just so much overreaction. Sure, Imuran can really fuck up the average fetus, but with the help of the Wondrous Sparklie that is Folic Acid!, there is no problem, because, see, he knows this couple and the father was on Imuran but the mother took Folic Acid! and the baby looks perfect.

“The baby was fine?”

He replied, “No visible defects.”

“So there could be internal defects? Or brain damage?”

(mild annoyance) “Well, anything’s possible. But the baby looks fine.”

Well, sweet ASS.

So I am on Folic Acid! to make sure my [unexpected] [presumed possible] [as yet nonexistent] baby bears all outward signs of cheeky Little Miss Peaches Township, and to prove my gastro-man right in his Imuranic faith. I am also on the Pill so as to crush any Little Miss PTs before they can become a peachy little zygote.

Under such daunting circumstances, any baby created in my womb would clearly be Super. Or at least have an adamantium intestine.

Are you listening, A.? I’m in a pro-mood again.

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