Your obedient… somethingorother

Item – I woke up (listen! I woke up! That means I slept!) this morning and found my thighs were stuck to the mattress. I scrambled out of bed and ta-dah! Blood-stains. Marvellous. Bloody marvellous. Thought I could get away with just washing the sheet, but no, it’s soaked through into the mattress cover. OK, wash that too, take it off the bed, AARGH there’s blood on the duvet cover as well. Fine. Strip the entire bed (which had had clean sheets on, you know. Obviously). Flat now full of drying laundry, as, naturally, my PJs copped it, as have several pairs of knickers.

Item – In between laundry loads and bouts of self-pity and underwear changes, I obediently went to see the GP this morning. Hey, it was dear old Doc Tashless! Long time no see! And he remembered me and all the infertile sheeeit and everything! I explained the period thing was getting very, very stupid now, and he agreed. He also (um, wow?) had letters sent over from the ACU from my last HSG, and therefore was fairly confident in saying I didn’t have fibroids or endo, as my periods were shitty then and are shitty now and have been shitty since forever. He thinks it’s more to do with excess prostaglandins. He gave me a prescription for Tranexamic Acid (oh, hey, I remember that from the Bleedathon) AND Mefenamic Acid and strict instructions to get back to him at once if they didn’t help with the next period I had. I pointed out I’d taken them before and they hadn’t helped vastly. He eyeballed me and said, firmly, ‘but have you taken them together?’ and I had to say, no I hadn’t, and he waggled his eyebrows at me. Apparantly they work much better together.

Item – and then he leaned over and gave me a good hard stare. ‘You look pale,’ he said. ‘Do you feel tired a lot?’ I nodded. He got me to stick my tongue out. ‘Hmmm,’ he said, and printed out another form. ‘Go and get a blood test done. The blood clinic is still running, they should be able to fit you in. You’re probably anaemic.’

Item – Oh, joy.

Item – We have a wonderful phlebotomist at my GP’s. He’s very quiet and reserved, but very, very gentle. Which is good. And I only had to wait half an hour to get stabbed. And then I went home.

Item – Still bleeding like a stuck pig. Arse. Change underwear again, decry stupid organic unbleached cotton and corn-starch-plastic hippy sanitary towels which claim to be for heavy flow and when actually faced with a heavy flow, soak through in minutes.

Item – But am in hardly any pain at all now. Fab.


13 responses to “Your obedient… somethingorother

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    Glad you’re sounding less agonised, honey – I sympathise hugely over the ridiculous bleeding, being a confirmed haemorrhager myself. I nicked a few of these from a gynae ward I was inpatient on a few years back and – when I’ve actually remembered to bung one underneath the sheet – they’ve saved me ruining a comfy mattress, at least. And I’m afraid I have calmly chosen the planet-buggering route with my choice of sanitary protection, on the simple basis that absolutely no-one who resides on it needs to see me with a bloodstained arse. If I’m having that bad a time, I need to be let off environment-saving duty for a few days, thinks I.

    I like the sound of your phlebotomist. I have bloodwork coming up and am already dreading the inevitable stabby-stabbyness of it.

    • May

      “I sympathise hugely over the ridiculous bleeding, being a confirmed haemorrhager myself” —

      You’ve at least got the good excuse of having double your share of uteri. I’ve got one (1) normally fist-sized one and my GOD she’s an overachiever. If I had two I’d’ve had a hysterectomy years ago. I stare at you with awe-struckness at your endurance.

      Ta for the tip! Will be purchasing in bulk ASAP.

  • a

    I have only encountered two phlebotomists who can draw blood without my noticing. I want to take them home with me and keep them.

    When I read your description of the abbatoir that was your bed, I was also thinking that there is no way that you aren’t anemic. But, of course, iron supplements are no fun either, unless they come in the form of a delicious steak.

  • Betty M

    Have you sought out the wonder that is Biotex? Agree that enviro concerns can go hang when it is a question of endless washing – which is surely worse for planet than non-crunchy sani pro. Glad you are at least sleeping.

    As vampires draw my blood for regular tests and “can we send a flagon to mystery pharma co for research” every two months I am just pleased when I get a phlebotomist as opposed to a research doc.

  • Womb For Improvement

    Nice one for going to the Docs.

    Now, if you are a card carrying planet-saver (a choice I applaud absolutely until I reach for the super plus tampax) maybe you could try a product for me and feedback. Have you heard of a Moon Cup (it sounds a bit like a cap that literally catches all your blood – and it is washable so no throwing away). I am intrigued but equally a bit revolted by the idea. So if you could check it out and let me know.



    Oh dear, I’ve lost her.

    • May

      I own a moon-cup! It’s, um. It works fine. Except, unlike tampons, when the scarlet niagara overwhelmes it, it doesn’t dribble, giving you time to rush madly to the loo. Oh no. It ‘unseals’ with a sudden and dramatic popping sensation and tips its entire contents out in one go. It can hold 20 mls before it goes, but when it goes, that’s 20mls plus all the rest that was building up behind it and about a cup-ful comes out at once. Which is EXTREMELY messy, and very hard to disguise when it happens in public. I use it for the last couple of days, when everything is more moderate.

      No, wait, I used to use it. I can’t wear it to work anymore as we no longer have access to the disabled loo, which has a sink right there inside the cubicle, allowing me to wash my hands in peace. I have not mastered the removal and insertion of the mooncup without getting seriously bloody fingers. No one needs to see me leaving the loo with blood up to the third knuckle.

  • Secret D

    Glad to hear that you went to the doctors. Let’s hope that the drugs his has given you do the trick for the next period.

    Also glad to hear that the pain has subsided, roll on the next few days to when the blood subsides!

  • Aphra Behn

    The doctor and the blood-sucker both sound like absolute stars. Good for you. Good for them. Aren’t drugs lovely.


  • g

    Periods are actually horrid things. I sometimes wish I believed in creation just so’s I’d have some idiot to blame for the unscheduled hemorrhaging. It’s awful.

    I think your GP is right on the prostoglandin front. Hope the double whammy helps.


  • Minawolf

    My mom, who was not normally anemic, would always get anemic during her period. Though now, even though she’s had menopause, she’s become a full fledged anemic and has to take iron supplements.

    I don’t seem to have her genes. Or it might be all the “bloody” meat I eat.

    If you do come out anemic, it might be a good idea to take the blood test again if these meds work and not during your period.

  • Heather

    Someone told me that adult diapers are great for sleeping in when you are bleeding that hard…just a thought.

    Hopefully it stops, very soon!!

  • MsPrufrock

    Word of advice – don’t pass out because you’re bleeding heavily, as I did. Stupid cow.

    I’ve probably moaned about this before to you, but I hate how some doctors act as if constant, extraordinarily heavy bleeding is all good in the hood. When I had a three week period, my doctor said I should just leave it. In the meantime, I was woozy all the time and nearly passed out when leaning over to pick up the then baby P. Yeah, no big deal!

    I’m glad there is no pain at the moment though. Look! A very thin silver lining! There it is!

  • MsPrufrock

    Er, I’ve just noticed that this post is from the 20th. I suspect (HOPE) you’re not still bleeding heavily, or else you’d probably be just a heap of skin and bones in a pile on the floor.

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