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Mar. 7th, 2011 01:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantym_56Please excuse this post. I need to cry and whimper and shout for a few minutes.
It hurts!! It hurts so damn much! I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! I know I'm far fom the only person in the world to have cripplingly bad period pains but I'm certainly the only person in my office I've ever seen huddled up at a desk whimpering, panting and trying not to sob in pain. Maybe there's some truth in this rumour that having a baby makes them less painful. Maybe they're simply not so prone to the pain. Maybe they're better at taking painkillers. Maybe the fucking painkillers actually work for them - they certainly don't work for me. What works for me is getting into my mother's bed with a DVD and some chocolate and staying there for a few hours. Not a DVD I actually want to watch - most of it will pass in a blur of sound and pictures somewhere in the haze of semi-consciousness. Certainly don't watch Wonders of the Solar System - I watched three episodes in this state last month and took in precisely none of it, although I made a stab at the bit about Mars and its molten core and lack of atmosphere and that. Sometimes I read a book but nothing more challenging than Enid Blyton (If you have a look at my Books I Read In... lists, you'll see sets of simple children's books like that.). I genuinely can't manage to read anything written for people over the age of nine in this kind of state.
I don't want to be at work but I have no choice. 1) I can't take three or four days off every single month. It cannot and must not be done 2) After managing two and a half years with no time off ill, I had one day in September, two and a half in October and one a fortnight ago.
I know. I should go to the doctor. Maybe he'll give me stronger painkillers. They'll be in tablet form and guess what?! I can't fucking swallow tablets!! Oh, I know how to help myself!! Anyway, while it's happening I'm thinking of nothing but surviving the next thirty seconds and while it's not happening, I'm not thinking about it at all. I want industrial strength painkillers. I want extra-concentrated horse-strength morphine at the very least and I want it going directly into my veins. I want major organs removed so as never to suffer this again. I have no intention of using the fucking thing to ever have children. All it does it cause me agony! Take it out!! Of course, no doctor will ever perform a full hysterectomy on an otherwise-healthy 25-year-old and I hate hospitals, injections, the idea of operations etc. And it would be hugely, hugely inconvenient to not be able to drive for six weeks. But it would end this misery.
I am skipping lunch because I'm unable to feel hungry right now. I am hugging a hot water bottle which I can't take back to work in half an hour and contemplating not going to Brownies. Writing this has certainly soothed the need to cry but it may come back the moment my fingers leave the keyboard.
It hurts!! It hurts so damn much! I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! I know I'm far fom the only person in the world to have cripplingly bad period pains but I'm certainly the only person in my office I've ever seen huddled up at a desk whimpering, panting and trying not to sob in pain. Maybe there's some truth in this rumour that having a baby makes them less painful. Maybe they're simply not so prone to the pain. Maybe they're better at taking painkillers. Maybe the fucking painkillers actually work for them - they certainly don't work for me. What works for me is getting into my mother's bed with a DVD and some chocolate and staying there for a few hours. Not a DVD I actually want to watch - most of it will pass in a blur of sound and pictures somewhere in the haze of semi-consciousness. Certainly don't watch Wonders of the Solar System - I watched three episodes in this state last month and took in precisely none of it, although I made a stab at the bit about Mars and its molten core and lack of atmosphere and that. Sometimes I read a book but nothing more challenging than Enid Blyton (If you have a look at my Books I Read In... lists, you'll see sets of simple children's books like that.). I genuinely can't manage to read anything written for people over the age of nine in this kind of state.
I don't want to be at work but I have no choice. 1) I can't take three or four days off every single month. It cannot and must not be done 2) After managing two and a half years with no time off ill, I had one day in September, two and a half in October and one a fortnight ago.
I know. I should go to the doctor. Maybe he'll give me stronger painkillers. They'll be in tablet form and guess what?! I can't fucking swallow tablets!! Oh, I know how to help myself!! Anyway, while it's happening I'm thinking of nothing but surviving the next thirty seconds and while it's not happening, I'm not thinking about it at all. I want industrial strength painkillers. I want extra-concentrated horse-strength morphine at the very least and I want it going directly into my veins. I want major organs removed so as never to suffer this again. I have no intention of using the fucking thing to ever have children. All it does it cause me agony! Take it out!! Of course, no doctor will ever perform a full hysterectomy on an otherwise-healthy 25-year-old and I hate hospitals, injections, the idea of operations etc. And it would be hugely, hugely inconvenient to not be able to drive for six weeks. But it would end this misery.
I am skipping lunch because I'm unable to feel hungry right now. I am hugging a hot water bottle which I can't take back to work in half an hour and contemplating not going to Brownies. Writing this has certainly soothed the need to cry but it may come back the moment my fingers leave the keyboard.
