Post #8
A year later, I was still having the same problems, although they had gotten even worse. Still, no solution from the doctor. I decided I wasn't going to go see another gynecologist unless it was in the emergency room. Maybe then, I thought, someone would take me seriously.
This is about the time the flow started getting so heavy that I started leaking at inopportune times. As if there is an opportune time for it. Anyway, I remember one time at work knowing that I had leaked and hoping that it didn't spill out onto my chair. When it was time for me to leave for my dinner break, I developed a manuever to make my way to the restroom without anyone being able to see the back of my skirt ... at least I hoped no one would see it. In the restroom, I learned that I did, in fact, leak and there was a big spot on the back of my light blue denim skirt. When I got home, instead of eating dinner, I washed the spot out and put the skirt in the dryer so I could wear it when I went back to work. I thought that if I wore the same skirt, and anyone had seen the spot, they might think it was their imagination.
I remember saying several times over the years when it started getting bad, “If I'm not going to have children, why can't I have a hysterectomy and get this over with?”
I was sick of not having any “good” underwear. I was sick of not having any “good” sheets. I was sick of all of it.
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