15 Jun
Forty-two years old and I genuinely feel like I'm fifteen again, except fifteen was more predictable. Last month I bled through dark jeans at a parents' evening. Dark. Jeans. I had to tie my cardigan round my waist like it was 1997 and I was a teenager who'd miscounted the days. The thing is I never know when it's coming now or how bad it'll be. Used to be like clockwork. Now it's either nothing for five weeks or absolute carnage for ten days straight. I've started keeping a little note on my phone, just rough stuff, how heavy, how long, which days I could barely get off the sofa. My GP appointment is next month and I want to actually have something concrete to show her instead of sitting there going 'it's just, you know, a lot' and her nodding and sending me away with nothing. Also the tiredness is something else. Not normal tired. Tired in my bones. I've been trying to eat more iron-y things on the worst weeks, lentil soup, spinach with eggs, that sort of thing, mostly because cooking anything complicated on day two is completely out of the question. Anyone else been through this and actually got somewhere useful with their GP? What did you tell them? x