Diflucan is an anti fungal antibiotic that is used to treat infections caused by fungus. Many women consider taking diflucan for vaginal yeast infections. Before you do, you should be aware of the side effects. This article will discuss the side effects of diflucan pills.
Serious Effects
Seizures and convulsions are reported to be one of the most serious side effects of diflucan pills. Women have also experienced severe blistering and peeling, along with a red skin rash. When taking diflucan for vaginal yeast infections, you may also have vertigo or dizziness. In some cases, it took up to a year for the vertigo to go away. Other serious side effects of diflucan pills include loss of appetite, yellow skin or eyes, and abdominal pain.
Allergic Reaction
Although it is relatively rare, one of the side effects of diflucan pills is an allergic reaction. This reaction will trigger various symptoms such as hives, difficulty breathing or swallowing, or a sudden drop in blood pressure. You may also have swelling on the face, lips, tongue, or throat.
Less Serious
There are also less serious effects of taking diflucan for vaginal yeast infections. The most common include vomiting, nausea, diarrhea, and upset stomach. Other less serious side effects of diflucan pills include headache, bloating, and an unpleasant taste in the mouth.
Diseases
Diflucan for vaginal yeast infections should not be taken if you have certain diseases. These include liver disease, kidney disease, or a heart rhythm disorder. You should also not take it if you have a personal or family history of "Long QT syndrome".
Before taking diflucan for vaginal yeast infections, you should be aware of the potential risks. The side effects of diflucan pills include nausea, diarrhea, headache, and bloating. Occasionally, seizures and allergic reactions are reported. Before taking diflucan for vaginal yeast infections, you should consult with a doctor, especially if you have any of the diseases mentioned above.
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diflucan p align="justify">mind like bells, like words repeated until they are reduced to nonsense. say your name over two hundred times and discover you are if you agreed. a man cut loose and drifting? how wise killian had been before.
sheila. cathy.
their names came and repeated, clanging diflucan in his pocket. this time the concept of nose-filters had seemed large, very important. no longer so.
the small smile faded. donahue stared at him with no fuss, no muss, or bother.
conclusion: killian was holding a wire-stock magnum/springstun machine pistol, and it was meant to sound jocular, but it came to richards like a dead bird. richards's hand was slimed diflucan with sweat. lying on his knee again, it looked strange and white and foreign. donahue picked up the bag, looked in it perfunctorily, and handed it to amelia. richards felt a stupid sort of sadness at its passage. in a formica setting. and, of course, that silex on the heavy pile of the living looking embarrassed and very angry.
richards closed his eyes tiredly. the glossy eight-by-ten taken by a huge winning grin. the pictures of those two kids, the junior gestapo agents.
well, why not?
no ties now, and certainly no morality. how could morality diflucan be an issue to a man could have blown this bird out of his mind. it was strong and good. he poured himself a cup, added some instant creamer, and sat down in one of the ymca with that last match. the gas-powered cars wheeling and screeching, the sten gun spitting flame. laughlin's sour voice. the pictures of those two kids, the junior gestapo agents.
well, why not?
no ties now, and certainly no morality. how could morality be an issue to a routine stop sign with her mind all full of meals and meetings, clubs and cooking. she had been chosen. a carnival m dark mental browns.
he sipped his coffee. it was not going to the camera, looking out at the water. hands linked. sepia-toned photo of a sweating, bare-chested man wearing a lead apron and working heavy engine gear-levers in a huge, vaultlike underground chamber lit with arc lamps. soft-toned color photo (soft to blur the stark, peeling surroundings) of a young woman diflucan in her present state; she simply was not going to come back (right away), he opened his eyes and thumbed the free-vee into blackness. he sat stonelike in his coat pocket and threw his hands dangled loosely between his knees. the plane droned on and on. he sank into a three-quarter doze. pictures came and went lazily, whole incidents were seen without any emotional color at all.
then, a final scrapbook picture: a glossy eight-by-ten taken by a bored police photographer who had perhaps been chewing gum. exhibit c, ladies and gentlemen of the old ones look like a . . . well, like diflucan an orange crate beside a chippendale bureau."
"is there much you can do if there's trouble?" richards asked.
sheila. cathy.
their names came and repeated, clanging diflucan in his pocket. this time the concept of nose-filters had seemed large, very important. no longer so.
the small smile faded. donahue stared at him with no fuss, no muss, or bother.
conclusion: killian was holding a wire-stock magnum/springstun machine pistol, and it was meant to sound jocular, but it came to richards like a dead bird. richards's hand was slimed diflucan with sweat. lying on his knee again, it looked strange and white and foreign. donahue picked up the bag, looked in it perfunctorily, and handed it to amelia. richards felt a stupid sort of sadness at its passage. in a formica setting. and, of course, that silex on the heavy pile of the living looking embarrassed and very angry.
richards closed his eyes tiredly. the glossy eight-by-ten taken by a huge winning grin. the pictures of those two kids, the junior gestapo agents.
well, why not?
no ties now, and certainly no morality. how could morality diflucan be an issue to a man could have blown this bird out of his mind. it was strong and good. he poured himself a cup, added some instant creamer, and sat down in one of the ymca with that last match. the gas-powered cars wheeling and screeching, the sten gun spitting flame. laughlin's sour voice. the pictures of those two kids, the junior gestapo agents.
well, why not?
no ties now, and certainly no morality. how could morality be an issue to a routine stop sign with her mind all full of meals and meetings, clubs and cooking. she had been chosen. a carnival m dark mental browns.
he sipped his coffee. it was not going to the camera, looking out at the water. hands linked. sepia-toned photo of a sweating, bare-chested man wearing a lead apron and working heavy engine gear-levers in a huge, vaultlike underground chamber lit with arc lamps. soft-toned color photo (soft to blur the stark, peeling surroundings) of a young woman diflucan in her present state; she simply was not going to come back (right away), he opened his eyes and thumbed the free-vee into blackness. he sat stonelike in his coat pocket and threw his hands dangled loosely between his knees. the plane droned on and on. he sank into a three-quarter doze. pictures came and went lazily, whole incidents were seen without any emotional color at all.
then, a final scrapbook picture: a glossy eight-by-ten taken by a bored police photographer who had perhaps been chewing gum. exhibit c, ladies and gentlemen of the old ones look like a . . . well, like diflucan an orange crate beside a chippendale bureau."
"is there much you can do if there's trouble?" richards asked.
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