If you're a guy reading this blog (and you're like most guys I know), you might just want to leave and check back with us tomorrow. I'm going to talk about "female issues". *Visualize me making air quotes with my hands*
So I really think that women got the raw end of this whole physiological/biological deal. I mean not only can we NOT pee standing up--which is a huge gyp, we have to carry and bear the young and because of those facts alone we have to bleed monthly, deal with raging hormones, bloating and a myriad of other symptoms. And that's if everything goes according to plan!
Well, for me, the "plan" *air quotes again* went awry. My cycle was coming to an end, which for me means that I'm trying to not eat every single thing in sight, dealing with the horrific bloat that comes from eating every single thing in sight and cramps that typically have me Tebowing at inopportune times. It was awesome. So I did what any normal woman does at these times of the month; I snapped at my children for being too loud, swallowed a hand full of Advil and whipped up a pan of double fudge brownies!
After about 20 minutes I realized that the Advil just wasn't doin' it for me and that I was strangely nauseous, so I decided it was time to call it a day--at 10:30 AM, and I told the Hubby I was going to take a nap. It was very soon after lying down that I realized that not only were the cramps not getting any better they were getting much, much worse. I curled myself into a ball as another wave of pain laced with nausea washed over me. I knew I needed to get to the bathroom upstairs soon or I was going to vomit in my bed so I slowly crawled up the stairs calling the Hubby to help me as I went. He was making lunch for the children at the time but he stopped to help me get situated on the floor of the bathroom.
For the next 90 minutes my main objective was to impersonate a rollypoly, while managing to spew INTO the toilet. The pain was intense; akin to someone taking my insides and twisting them around and around until it felt like something had to give, pop... burst! And finally it did. I managed to find an albeit, old pain pill, left over from the Hubby's bout with kidney stones and I took it. I then slinked back downstairs to the wonderful chill of my basement bedroom and embraced the oblivion that only drugs could provide me.
Epilogue--
I slept the rest of Saturday. And I'm pretty sure it was an ovarian cyst. I've experienced one other and it occurred around the same time in my cycle and the pain was the similar. If you've never had the pleasure (said sarcastically), pray you never do. It's similar to labor pains but you don't have a cute, little, bundle of joy to take home after!
And although I was REALLY sore on Sunday I still managed to take some lovely pictures of a really beautiful family. Check it out!
Peace Out!
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