Warning. This may be in the TMI category. Then again, we're veterans here and we've shared some graphic details. Men, close your eyes, think of hockey and step away from the blog.
I am really sick of bleeding. After my uterine artery embolization in January, I had a discharge for about 8 days or so, but then it stopped. Whoopee. I thought the 3 months warning wouldn't apply to me. Hahahaha. Then about 2 weeks later, I got my "period". Then that stopped after 6 days. Okay, great. Then 3 days after that, you guessed it and it's now been 9 days. The aftercare instructions say to contact the radiologist if you start passing tissue, which occurred big time on Friday but has since slowed down. I didn't have any pain or fever or anything. I called the department today and I was told he would call me back some time today. So I guess, I'll sit right here and wait til he calls. NOT! I'm sure it's not really an urgent matter, I think it's just part of the process.
Do you remember when you first got your period? I was 11 yrs old. My mother called it "seeing your health". I tried to keep it a secret, but she figured it out. I was so embarrassed. I had heard of "period" talk, but I thought it was that. A period. As in the dot that comes after a sentence. As in a red dot in your panties. So much for clarity in health class. I had a lot of pain which a hot water bottle wasn't going to take away. I confided in my gym teacher that I had really bad cramps and she told me that I was exaggerating and that it must be because I was denying my womanhood. Mmmm. Thanks for the words of wisdom.
Mum told me I couldn't take a bath for a week (just bird baths) and bought me these horrible plastic panties that you attached Moddess pads into. I'm surprised a seclusion hut wasn't built for me, I felt like such a pariah. Changing for gym class during that time became an exercise in humiliation. All the cool girls used tampons. Whooo. My mother thought tampons were only for "those type" of girls. Read non-virgins. She refused to buy them for me. No "welcome to womanhood" celebrations for me. Just a vague warning about not going into dark corners with boys. Oh, yeah, and a lesson on making a sanitary pad out of moss and waxed paper if you have to. I suppose that came out of her West Indian roots. We didn't really talk too much about it. There was just this box of huge diaper like things that my younger sister would bug me about. Until she got her period at 9 years old and she wasn't laughing any more. I really did sorry for her. That shouldn't happen to a 9 yr. old. It's just not right.
So it wasn't until adulthood when I could finally get a hold of the Pill, tampons and some decent drugs (Midol never worked for me). And then I could taste sweet freedom. I could go swimming (okay, I can't really swim) and ride horses! I was happy to get my period. For years, it was like whew, I'm not pregnant! And then course, it came to mean, oh, crap, I'm not pregnant. Failure. Dread. A monthly reminder of what I didn't have. Cycle after cycle of sadness and money down the drain. You know the song.
I know this is just a process of the embolization and all that. I just really hate bleeding.