Crossing The Line

Warning & Disclaimer: This post is not intended for consumption while partaking in the following activities:

1. Eating
2. Drinking
3. Eating or drinking within the previous 36 hours
4. Ever intending to eat or drink again

You have been warned. The following post details an event that happened earlier this week. This event almost resulted in copious vomiting by one H3.2. It is that gross.

---

H3.2 has developed a habit of watching me shower. It's not a sexual thing, it's more of a convenience issue. I tend to take a shower in the early evening around the time he arrives home from work. He wants to talk to me, and I'm in the shower. We talk about our days, the usual "hi honey I'm home how are you," except I'm showering while this conversation is unfolding.

This week is my blessed bleeding like a stuck pig time. You may mark it on your calendars for future reference if you would like. I'm very regular. I started spotting on Tuesday morning and my body waited until I stepped into the shower Tuesday evening to begin the true horror that is my monthly curse. During a short break in the torrential downpour I popped in my trusty Instead and continued about my shower without the tiresome imitation of Niagara Falls.

Several minutes later H3.2 asks me what is on my foot. At first he thinks it is a clump of hair before realizing that my hair was still dry. As I shower without my glasses I have no idea what he is talking about without bringing my foot up as close to my face as my 100 year old body will allow. I notice that there is a large blood clot nestled between my big toe and my first toe. I try in vain to shake my foot to dislodge it but the dastardly thing won't budge. I am forced to pick it up and dump it on the shower floor and wash it down to the drain where it sits and refuses to move. It is too large and gruesome to fit down the holes in the grate. I end up having to pick up the drain grating and pull the clot out in pieces and then wash it down the drain.

Meanwhile, H3.2 is appearing a bit ill. He says to me:

"The bleeding every month is one thing. The blood clots is another. But A BLOOD CLOT STUCK BETWEEN YOUR TOES THAT WON'T EVEN GO DOWN THE DRAIN? It's as big as the leeches on that Grey's Anatomy episode. That's just wrong."

Of course my inappropriate sense of humor means that while H3.2 is ranting about the disgusting sludge that is my menstrual flow I am laughing so hard that my stomach muscles are cramping. Yes, it is gross. Yes, I hate my period. But what the fuck I am supposed to do about it? He should see what it is like when I'm NOT on the pill.

Do you see the line of decency anywhere around here? In case you'd like to travel further down the bloody lane, visit May Ling Su and check out her original artwork.