At the age of 27 I can count on one hand the few times I’ve had my period. This is due to suffering from a very common affliction that a surprising number of women have, one out of three to be exact. Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, or simply PCOS. A mostly unpleasant syndrome involving hormones, insulin and my uterus; there is nothing life threatening about PCOS, and other than for some unfortunate side effects it’s mostly just a minor inconvenience. One such “side effect” would be, that unless I’m taking birth control and my sugar pill, my body will not ovulate and will not shed the uterine wall lining. I’ll translate. No period. Ever.
I decided, why I’m don’t really know, to get healthy and improve my over all quality of life. Thusly I quit smoking, joined a gym, started watching my diet and am getting divorced. Since I was making obvious and drastic changes and reductions to my life for some reason or another I decided to start taking my medication. And exactly 28 days later started what I’m here after referring to as hell week.
It started very slowly. First was the initial onset of PMS, or premenstrual syndrome. From my research and experience with the girls at work, this varies. Some women start pms’ing a week or so before, others during the week of. Some (lucky bitches…yeah I went there) not at all. Mine started about 6 days prior to my white pills. I watched my hormones take over my body with an almost morbid fascination. First I was irritable and cranky. Everything was an annoyance sent by the devil to torment me. Then there was a bout of melodramatic over reaction and exaggeration to small occurrences. Then came the feeling’s. All of a sudden I had feelings on just about everything and those seemed to be sadness, despondency and a overall feeling of general morose. My body decided that the only way to deal with said feelings was to cry about it. All the time. Over everything….everything.
Then came the eating. Primarily chocolate. I didn’t understand. Under normal circumstances I’m not a fan of it unless it’s covering peanut butter or something salty. But anything sweet, chocolaty or just generally fattening went into my mouth. Then, then came this other…feeling. I got horny. A lot. All the time. In almost a constant state of arousal, I went through a hole pack of batteries, discovered 2 new free porn sites online, and probably scared the bejesus out of my gym bitch….mostly regarding his brother. Obviously, after 27 years of virtually never going through this, it was a traumatic and emotionally scaring week….for me as well as everybody else.
I decided that when the period actually started, I would be ready. I went online and looked at graphs and pictures so that I would know exactly what was happening to my body each step of the way. I polled my friends, bought a box of tampons and pads. Had designated 7 sets of panties specifically for my time of the month. And then I waited. I wasn‘t disappointed. Two days into my white pills I started cramping and bloating. The cramps, oh my god the cramps. There are not words to describe the constant pain of having an organ squeeze itself. Like my uterus was giving itself a hug, constantly. Then my back. Back and forth. My stomach and my back. A constant dull ache that rolls over you. (Ironically the only thing that really helped was Midol and masturbation. Life is funny that way sometimes) Still I waited. Day 3 into my white pills. Nothing. Day 4, nothing. Thinking I might have possibly dodged a bullet, I went to bed. However, I woke up the afternoon of day 5 in silent horror wondering where the horse head was. It. Was. Everywhere. Hell yes I panicked. And of course, since my body the week prior had already decided how we were handling anything that happened to me, I cried.
I spent most of day 5 in disgusted horror at what my body was discharging. And after one awkward phone call from my best friend explaining to me the logistical application of the tampon and coming to terms with my gross immaturity, I decided I wanted nothing more to do with any of this. Ever. I still feel that way, even now, on the afternoon of day six. I have come to several conclusions. First, there is nothing natural about bleeding for 7 days; second, of all the places that this could be excreted from, why it has to come from my front butt is beyond me. Thirdly, I don’t feel more of a woman for having suffered through it. And fourthly, I can say, that there is absolutely nothing that makes going through this worth it. Save for confirming I’m not pregnant. But unless it’s an immaculate conception, I’m not even given that small respite.
However, it is over. Well not over, but it will be soon. And hopefully my life and my body will gradually return to normal. I feel better prepared next month for what will happen. I will make some small changes in my coping plan, be a little better prepared and at the very least, the instructional video for tampon insertion wont be necessary. Thanks any way Allison.