there is only one picture that could adequately portray this post, and i can't find it. it's that scene in the Shining when the blood comes flowing out of the elevators of the Outlook Hotel, as danny sees it in his mind.
friday: i wake up hemorrhaging. i can't stop the blood. i wake up feeling it run between my labia majora onto my underwear and further. i feel down there with my fingers, it's sticky. i make a noise like "uh" and jump up and run to the bathroom. i sit down and the blood starts to flow. it runs out of me like i'm peeing blood. it is blood running out of my vagina like pee. there are blood clots the size of ping pong balls falling out of me. it makes me feel sick. there is something inately wrong with feeling anything run the entire course of the vagina and it not being a baby. i've never felt this before. it makes me nauseous. i want to vomit with each ping pong ball. they fall through me and PLOP, PLOP, PLOP, PLOP. i've never felt something so pure, in a way, i mean, this is humanity right here and i want to barf on the reality. when it slows down to a drip, i clean up my legs, the toilet seat, my crotch, my underwear, i change, i get up, i swallow four advil and two aleve immediately because that's how quick the searing pain across my abdomen comes. like fire.
i lay down and moan.
guy is asleep but gets that something is happening, he puts his arm over my ribcage with a light touch of love. i moan.
i turn onto my left side and curl up. it's weird how this is less painful than lying on my back with my legs straight or OR pulled up. why? the muscles are less pulled out so it's less strain? there is only position allowed and that is on my side, curled up. knees to chest, head to chest, like an acorn. soon, i jump up again and pee more blood, this makes me feel so sick, i feel vomit actually coming, i get up off the toilet and put my face forward instead. i vomit a few pieces of smoked gouda i took down with the pills, and a whole lot of water. you can imagine what is coming out of the other side of me as i throw up, and what rug it is ruining.
when it is over, i get in bed, i lie there and wait for the advil and aleve to take affect. soon, guy wakes up for his day. he says "did you call the doctor?" upon hearing of what is happening. "no, i've got to wait until 9am" i tell him. he leaves for work, he kisses me goodbye, "let me know what the doctor says" and he's off.
about 8:30, right after i leave a message for the doctor to call me "in case of emergency," i eat a piece of marijuana fudge. marijuana is a great herbal painkiller. fortunately, i have some that my friend made me for my birthday. i eat a chunk and lay down, waiting for all of the drugs to finally take effect and relieve me of the stomach-churning dullness of my organs bleeding.
they do. i fall asleep. i wake up when the doctor's nurse calls with questions. i tell her of my myriad of pain and the timing of such pain and then i pause, i have suddenly forgotten which pain i'm talking about. i pause, i'm faltering, i have no idea which point in the three-point pain story that i am currently describing. i tell her, "i'm panicking. i don't know what i was saying. um, nevermind." i realize i am actually stoned. huh, who knew. she proceeds to explain a "brick and mortar" analogy of what they've been trying to do by prescribing me birth control pills to stop the bleeding and consequent pain. suddenly, i remember, while i'm trying to follow her analogy, "oh, i know what i was saying," i tell her and go on. she says there are still no earlier appointments than october 24th to see me and discuss surgery and the end of this fucked up two.five month experience of constant bleeding and pain. so, she says, we will give you more hormones to take with the pills. do you need more vicodin? yes, i tell, yes, it helps. we hang up.
i get the pills, i take them, i take some vicodin, i spend all day saturday and sunday in bed.
monday morning is my new job, i feel better. i wake up, i'm bleeding "normally" vs. a hemmorhage, and i get ready for my first day. i dress, i feel good. i'm set. i get on the bus, i get down to the final underground train stop and get off, and feel that labia feeling again. more flow. holy fuck. there is no more bathroom access in the train stations since 9/11. i'm screwed. i have my connecting train coming, with no more on the horizon, i have to take it. there is no time to run up the escalator and and get to the hyatt regency on market street a block away to use the facilities, so i pray for the flow to be slow. at the same time, a goth guy proceeds to pick up on me. he's somewhat sophisticated, not a teenager or anything, he talks to me about my jewelry and my job that i'm hurrying to and tells me i should read chuck palahniuk. how crazy, i just started reading my first chuck novel, DIARY. we chat, the train goes, i get off, he's headed to the south bay, so it's a nice and quick conversation.
i get off, i run to GAP, INC and hurriedly ask the receptionist for the bathroom as the blood drips down my short-skirted, high-booted legs. Five minutes later, i'm all cleaned up, report to my new supervisor and as she explains my new job to me, in detail, i face excruciating abdomenal pain and i grin, and i bare it. i have forgotten my trustworthy and fast-acting advil liqui-caps and am faced with an hour of pain before the two aleve i have swallowed, take effect.
the rest of the day is pretty cool. i am being paid to write. this is something i have done only on the side, in the past. this is something i have had to do on the sly, during my usual design hours for years, and here i am, handed a collection of gorgeous leather men's bags, and told to write descriptive copy about said bags. amazing. i love it. i go through my own process: get the facts down first: 1. details that are known like how many pockets, their description and location, i open each bag, i inspect how they're made, their hardware etc. 2. look at them. how do they make me feel, what do i think of when i see them? what kind of guy wants these bags? what do they do? what are these guys looking for? etc etc etc. i really love it. i can't believe i have been granted this hall pass.
and the bleeding subsides. i will find out if i will have surgery in a week. i find out if i get a permanent job with this company in six months. i am only concerned with one thing and that is balance.
they both must work.
