MPSIMS. Because there are some things you just cannot talk about in real life. This is TMI, special edition, so if you don’t want to hear about menstrual blood, move along.
I use a DivaCup and I love it. But I have 1-2 days of my period that recently are really quite heavy and I’m realizing I have to have a back-up to the DivaCup on those days, like a big pad. But I don’t currently have any in the house.
I’m a lawyer looking for work right now and doing contract legal work on my own, but it’s not enough. Anyway, I had to go to the US Consulate in Tijuana on Thursday to accompany some clients to their appointment there. I had about two days’ notice of the Tijuana appointment. Tuesday I also agreed to do a rush project that was due Thursday a.m., because it will earn us money. I could swing it if I worked only on that. But right after I took the project that I found out about a half-day job interview for Wednesday that I could not reschedule, and Thursday was the consulate thing. I’d had about 4 hours’ sleep in two days, had been at the office until 4 a.m. the night before, and one thing I didn’t have time to do was buy some pads. I did have on a panty-liner though.
Anyway, when I met with the clients, we had to do some paperwork first. It had been awhile since I had gone to the bathroom to empty the rapidly-filling up DivaCup. I had driven to and crossed the border in between, etc. Suddenly I realized that I was bleeding - a lot - and I needed to go the bathroom NOW. We were about to spend the day at the Consulate. I had on a pantsuit. All I needed was a nice blood stain on the back of my pants. We had not been given entry to the Consulate yet – a somewhat lengthy endeavor that involves standing in a line and when it’s your turn having the person at the window match a paint-by-number picture of a horsey to the print-out of your appointment confirmation after you recite the state capitals with a Spanish accent and some other things. We were in the parking lot outside. Which had an outhouse. Not all parking lots have bathrooms - in fact, this is the first one I’ve seen - so I was grateful it existed at all. “Esta muy sucio,” (It’s very dirty) Mr. Client A says. No matter. Has to be done. “No hay papel,” (There’s no paper) Ms. Client B says. :eek: Not acceptable. Ms. Client C: “Tengo un pedazito de papel limpio” (I have one llittle piece of clean tissue), holding it up. Dignity: slipping away… Mr. Client A goes back to the parking lot attendant to beg him for some toilet paper. Victory: he brings back half a roll. Not the few squares I thought we might get.
I go to the bathroom, which is dirty but certainly not the worst I’ve seen. There is no light bulb, though, so to not be in total darkness I have to leave the door open. Who cares at this point. My clients can’t see me. I hav soaked that pantyliner and am starting to go through my nylons. I think it was cold that day. Hover over the seat, remove DivaCup, pour it out, and…drop DivaCup into the bowels of the toilet bowl. I’m very tired, I’ve had no food, I’m stressed about life, money, the Consulate appointment, and the project I had to rush even more than I thought I would, I’m hovering over a dirty toilet with blood on my hands…and I’ve fucking dropped the #*#@^&*(# DivaCup in the *@(#&A&^%$#@! toilet bowl. I can’t possibly go without it. I’d be bleeding all over the hallowed halls of citizenship and bureaucracy. Plus it costs like $80.00, I think. Thinking about the guy in Requiem for a Dream, I cringe and shudder and plunge my hand in, having to stick my hand way further down than seems just in order to retrieve it. Now I have to put it back inside of me…and there’s no sink in the bathroom, though there is one outside. I have to wipe it off with toilet paper and re-insert it. No choice. I set the roll on the counter, which is wet. And muddy, somehow. Now one end of the roll is dirty and damp. Meanwhile, I’ve got a big blood spot on the other end of the roll. That pretty soon I will have to hand back to my client. I do the trick where you scrape away at the blood spot so that there’s a crater in it rather than a spot. I clean myself up. I try hard not to get any drips of blood on my clothing. (When I’m bleeding like this, it seems to just be everywhere.) I use half of the roll. I leave the bathroom and thankfully water comes out of the sink outside. I wash my hands for awhile. I take a dollar out of my purse to pay for all the paper I’ve used. (Sometimes you have to pay initially and he didn’t make us pay - I feel bad because I really have used a lot.) I hand it and the roll back to my client. He takes it back to the parking attendant, who is very nice and doesn’t want to accept the dollar. The end.