About Bloody Time
As it’s the time of the month, it’s cramps galore [and no, somehow Bikram Yoga hasn’t helped much with my cramps, but if it’s cutting it from twice a month to once a month then I am a happy camper] and this time of the month usually strikes fear in my little heart as I’d be constantly checking my towel or legs just in case I er, leak.
You have NO IDEA how scared I am when sweat starts trickling down my thighs onto the towel. Is it blood?! I think and quickly check the mirror. Yes, it’s bad for the concentration, but I don’t think the people around me appreciate a hardcore person practicing with blood dripping down the legs, especially if it’s uh, menstrual blood. The clumpy kind.
And just when I thought it’s safe to wear a pad [since I am cramping, I don’t fancy shoving anything else up my cervix. And by the way, my cramps feel like contractions, so I am ALL PREPARED for natural childbirth, and damn right my husband had better be in the room because I WILL MAKE HIM SUFFER TOO] and a white towel, I leaked on to my towel. Think bright red skid marks as I scooted backwards for janushirasana. ARGH!!!! Thank goodness it was towards the end of class so I hastily used my legs to awkwardly cover the offending stain.
I think I’m better off just tying my tubes off. Heavy bleeding and cramps that actually incapacitate me for half the day are a no go. That and for every time I cramp, God had better be giving a man somewhere extreme testicular pain. *raises tiny ineffectual fist at imaginary male clutching his balls in pain.
p.s : Yeah yeah TMI. Click here to rinse your eyeballs and brain with a Unicorn Chaser.