I think I see the end of my tether

Item – My periods are truly, utterly vile. Vile vile vile.

Item – So I didn’t eat or drink for 36 hours, and didn’t get to take any painkillers at all for 24, as every time I swallowed so much as a sip of water, I puked. I seem to have pulled a muscle in my solar plexus from throwing up so hard so often.

Item – I have lost 6 pounds since Monday (BMI of 30! You are mine at last!). I don’t recommend it at all. The cracked lips, dry flaking skin and pallor are so not a good look, and my fat tummy now looks like a collapsed soufflé. And as soon as I’ve spent a day or so drinking normal amounts of water, I shall no doubt reinflate, so it’ll all have been pointless and pointlessly unpleasant.

Item – Why, yes, I assumed the foetal position and rocked back and forth whimpering and sobbing on innumerable occasions since Tuesday morning. Also, swearing, moaning, begging it all to stop, and beating my little fists against the lino. Fabulous way to spend the equivalent of a long weekend.

Item – Of course, I’m feeling a lot better now. Bleeding in an extravagantly lavish manner normally reserved for expensive water features, but better. And today I have had two cups of tea, a rice cake, three spoonfuls of yoghurt, a bowl of soup and a very very small portion of icecream. And several glasses of water. And, and this is important, quite a lot of painkillers. Hurrah!

Item – H had to fend my mother off, as she telephoned last night announcing she wanted to visit me. Yes, well, I’m not keen on being visited when I’m lying on the bathroom floor shouting ‘fuck!’ at the underside of the lavatory bowl. I, lying face-down on the bed stoned and whimpery, could overhear snippets of the conversation, which included H saying, firmly, that actually the only real cure is a hysterectomy, and then explaining that May’d be throwing up a lot, and then that no, he didn’t think May could come to the phone and chat right now. I remember thinking, abstractly, that I felt very sorry for the woman H was talking about, poor cow. It all sounded utterly dreadful.

Item – So I am going back to the GP tomorrow, and I think I might cry in his or her office. I am hoping for a referral to a gynaecologist who actually treats Periods From Hell. Miss Consultant and The Professor both seem to take the view that as my adenomyosis/fibroids/whatever-in-Buttfuck-Ohio-they-are aren’t causing the miscarriages or preventing me from getting pregnant, my painful heavy periods are irrelevant. As a Quality of Life issue, they are getting really rather goddamn relevant, don’t you think?


20 responses to “I think I see the end of my tether

  • Amy P

    Eesh. Definitely get H to give you a hug from me as we discussed, then!

    And here’s another– *hug*

  • Jem

    Is Buttfuck, Ohio a real place?

    Oh, my dear, I wish your period didn’t do this to you. I hope some doc will take it seriously and get you some help already!

  • Amber

    WOW! Do not leave the office with out getting a referral. Sometimes Drs. think we don’t know what we are talking about so you have to fight. And for someone who is at the end of their rope its a million times harder. Heres an internet hug. I am amber and I have been reading your blog for a few months now. Hi

  • a

    Oh yes, you must find someone who can help you. 3-4 days of severe pain every month is intolerable. Surely someone can find some sort of treatment other than the most drastic.

  • Betty M

    I agree totally with you. The GP must find you a specialist double quick. There must be some surely. I wish I knew one I could recommend and I would drag them to you at home immediately.

  • Korechronicles

    Oh May, I hear you so loudly and clearly that I might well be in the room next door. I spent years thinking I was the only person in the universe who suffered the Seven Circles of Hell every month and years trying to find the solution, any solution. From foul Chinese herbs to deep depression inducing hormones. And H’s statement of the cure to your mother was the only one that worked.
    I’m so, so sorry that this is happening to you and wish I could just magic it all away. I’ve said it before…why no one has been able to successfully treat something so destructive to one’s quality of life, is completely mystifying.
    Sending the biggest and warmest of hugs.

  • manapan

    Holy crap. Here are some gentle hugs so as not to compress your stomach too much!

    I hate to offer assvice, but have you tried anti-nausea drugs? I’ll be the first to admit that ondansetron (despite its ridiculous price tag) doesn’t stop all the sickness, but I spend more time retching than actually producing vomit now. I first got it in IV form in the hospital when I was in pain that was making me throw up the painkillers, but they have tablets that disintegrate in your mouth for when you can’t keep down water. They taste horrible, but they work just as well.

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    Ohhh, lovey.
    I am so Sorry.
    This is indeed vile, vile and more vile.

    I can offer only one diversionary glimmer. When you are shouting FUCK at the underside of your toilet, I wonder if you are audible next door? And if that may have led to H’s comment on your neighbour’s *ahem* noisy rambunctiousness last night? Could they be trying to keep up with the Joneses?!

  • Valery

    o dear… End of Tether, does it look as scary as I think?
    sorry for being stupid on the painkiller front, but aren’t there other ways to get them into your system than swallowing pills? Short of DIY spinal?
    making tea now, and sending hugs..
    Hope you feel human again for the weekend.

  • twangy

    *Nodding, nodding.* Yes, there’s got to be something that can help – woe betide any doctor that dismisses you – I’ll beat on his (or her, let’s be equal opportunities) door personally until they take you seriously. Hmph.

  • lulu

    You poor thing. It’s so hard to get someone to JUST LISTEN, GODDAMNIT.

  • Womb For Improvement

    Hugely relevant I’d say. Good luck.

  • Emily

    I’m just so, so, so incredibly sorry.



  • katyboo1

    Gentle, gentle hugs to you. I hope someone helps you very, very soon.x

  • Illanare

    Vileness indeed, you poor love.

    Now (takes deep breath) – I am very sorry to plunge in with unsolicited and probably what our cousins across the pond all “assvice” but – have you heard of / already tried prochlorperazine boccal? They are weeny little tabs, one of which you stick high up between your upper lip and gum and they are a (supposedly) powerful anti-emetic. I have been prescribed them so that I don’t up-chuck my fluids and BP down to dangerous levels when I have a migraine (added bonus – can keep down migraine meds, hooray).

    Humungous apologies if this is old, stale news to you. I hate even well-meaning “have you tried” or “have you thought of” but I find these little things so helpful in the up-chucking department, I had to break my own rule.

    Also sending delicate hugs and tubs if ice cream.

  • Hannah

    May I am so sorry you are enduring this yet again. I had a dream that I could check into as hospital as a pain cycle was beginning and be place under anesthesia for the duration of the pain cycle. Each time I’d be placed in a coma for 7 – 8 days – it was heavenly. Upon waking, I still wished that was an option, barring a cure. My heart is with you in this.

    Not to add to the assvice, but I second the ondansetron. That and belladonna/opium suppositories help take the edge off the pain. especially when I am vomiting too hard to keep pain medicine down. It took a doctor specializing in pelvic pain, who was willing to “think outside outside the box” to come up with that. I dearly hope you get a referral to one of your own.

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