[TMI warning applies to entire post. So there]
… I stopped taking the pill for this week, because I suddenly had a complete, total, major, jaw-clenching panic attack about endometrial hyperplasia. Oh, I haven’t completely lost control of my mind (just mostly). I will start taking it again on Friday, probably for another two or three months in a row. But, you see, I kept spotting, and then I am very bewilderated as to what is going on in there, and of course, I was brought up to poke bewildering things with a stick, so here I am, seeing if my ‘period’ is anything like previous ones. Or not. Also, next week H and I are on holiday and I rather want things to be as lovely as possible, ie, not spotty, you see, for aesthetic reasons, as it were. So. Off the pill I came. Bring on the feminine hygiene products. Start the claret.
And what conclusions can I draw therefrom?
Well, it’s not as heavy as it has been, but it’s not exactly light neither, and it’s VERY clotty, and while the cramps aren’t constant, and nor have I yet gone green and leant against furniture, it is quite painful.
Which leads to me to wonder in what way exactly has the surgery improved my life, and if it hasn’t improved my life, you mean I did this to my tummy-button for nothing?
Roll on the end of September.
PS – the mooncup thingy is not getting markedly easier to use, and I definitely need a sink within reach of lavatory, but is this because I am a raging clutz? Or is it because I should have gone for the smaller size? Because, get this, they come in sizes, the pre- and post-natal, one could say, only the post is also recommended for women over 30 as ligaments get a little, err, well, they’re over thirty too, and you know what? I think my ligaments are kinda youthful. As it were. I feel I must add, H got it for me, and probably did his best under somewhat trying circumstances to the average hetero white guy. Nevertheless, I feel somewhat vindicated now at having felt slightly miffed by his decision then.