Crouched over in fetal position, sandwiching a pillow between my lower stomach and legs, I sit watching movies to try and take my mind over the excruciating pain. 800mgs of Ibuprofens is not enough to battle this beast. Rocking in place, like a mental patient in an insane asylum, I groan with misery wishing I was born a different gender, cursing at Eve for eating that forbidden apple, and craving the most delicious, juicy Porterhouse steak I can get my hands on.
“Madelene----- please, please get a t-bone steak or filet mignon, and a really good bottle of pinot noire—any red wine at this point. Oh, and don’t forget the heated therma pads! Thanks sweetie.” I say in the most desperate voice.
All my body craves at this time of month is red meat and red wine. Anything red will do. Everything is ‘red’ this time of month. It’s not only my food and wine, it’s my temper. I flare up like a wild hemorrhoid that you can’t get rid of. Luckily, I’m a brunette, or I would have yet another ‘red’ reason for my temper.
A box of tissue, a cup of tea with honey, and a huge goose down pillow with a blanket, I sit and watch Lifetime movies all day on my big screen plasma T.V. My tears run wild over the wife who just found out her husband was unfaithful, to the story of a mom who lost her son due to a brutal kidnapping, or to a teenager who lost her first true love. I need to know that things are much worse than sitting here with period cramps. I need to know there are other types of miseries out there that are worse than mine. The best is just simply watching court T.V.---that alone makes you feel 100% better. Is it true what they say- that misery loves company? Why can’t we accept our own misery? We rely on other people to relate to us, in a negative aspect sometimes. Is this the reason I don’t have a conventional type of career that enables me to work a full forty hour week in an office cubical? I would literally take one day a month off, due to my period cramps. My focus went down the drain, my pain so intense that I couldn’t even speak. It's debilitating! A lot of women are much like me, where you physically cannot perform your daily duties due to this monthly monster.
Feminist groups and women’s rights organizations screwed us royally. In my opinion, I think women should take off a full week each month due to their ancestor Eve. It should be called, “Eve’s Holiday.” I declare it! Some women suffer more than others, nevertheless, we all suffer. From the antagonizing pain, to the dull aches that last throughout the day, to the hormones that run wild like wild fire, threatening all who’s in her path. Think about this fact…and don’t debate me on this because I’m already in a bad mood. Why do you think there are no female presidents? God forbid we are at odds with another country ie: Iraq or Russia…and Mrs. President decides, “Nuke em’ all!” (Due to her menstrual hormonal tempest) The world would be history--armageddon as we know it.
The tortures of womanhood go beyond just cramps and bad moods. We have to be careful of what we wear during this time. My girlfriend just got an operation due to her fibroid tumors. A lot of women get this in their late thirties and well into their forties. Some say it’s a sign of pre-menopause. She woke up in a pool of blood, and I thought she was hemorrhaging! Is this what I have to look forward to in my future?
To all the men who are reading this blog, think about this for a split second or two…What if, once a month for a full week, blood came gushing out of your penis? Very disgusting thought for all---I apologize for this imagery, but I am trying to make a point. Still with me guys? Okay, good… Then on top of your bloody penis, (and I am not trying to attempt British slang here) you have to wear some sort of diaper on it, a sanitary napkin—if you will-- so that you won’t have blood seeping from your pants. Now you have yet another problem….CrAmPs! This can be a dull, constant ache, to a severe “OH HELP ME GOD” type of pain; as if you were giving birth to a child. Wouldn’t you call in every month from your job saying, “Ugh, I think I have a stomach virus…not going to make it in today?” Believe me, if you are not married or you don’t realize what women go through during this time of month, be certain that the next time a woman screams her head off at you, or if some woman just ripped you a new a-hole for the smallest thing at your place of work, remember, it’s the beast within, that stirs inside that hormonal river. Do not attempt to ride these rapids, stay far, far away my friend.
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