All I want for Christmas is a blood-free day,
A blood-free day, yes, a blood free day
Gee, if I could only have a blood-free day
Then it would be a Merry Christmas

All I want for Christmas is a blood-free day,
A blood-free day, yes, a blood free day
Gee, if I could only have a blood-free day
Then it would be a Merry Christmas

This little ditty was brought to you by Desogen, which has made it possible for me to have my first-ever four-week long period. (If you’re going to bail at this point, go read Elle’s entry from last night; she is much better at rewriting Christmas songs and only mentions blood once.) Yes, I’ve been bleeding pretty much every day since before Thanksgiving. Damn. When my new doctor said I could expect some spotting the first cycle, I did not realize that meant I should quadruple my on hand inventory of feminine protection products. In the past month, I’ve used all the Glad Rags I own multiple times, plus a passel of disposable pads and multiples of every size of o.b. tampon known to woman. (My Keeper, sadly, has languished unused in its little bag because it and the fibroid don’t get along.) And since I never know from day to day whether I’ll have a trickle or a flood, I’ve had to devote about half the space in my purse to pads and tampons so I’ll have the appropriate type of dam on hand when the release schedule for the day is announced.

I suppose I should be happy that the only bad side effect I’ve had from the Desogen is the bleeding. It hasn’t given me mood swings or bad headaches or more pimples, and the small initial weight gain I saw went away quickly. But I’m not happy. I’m cranky and tired of having to cart around my own feminine hygiene department wherever I go. I am not much consoled by the fact that none of the days (so far) has matched the pre-Desogen deluge for volume or pain. At least with the deluge, I had a pretty good idea when it was coming and when it would end. This past month, every day has been a surprise, and not in a good way. About the only thing I’m certain of is that if Christmas Day finds me in close personal contact with anything that has absorbent layers, I’m making an appointment with my doctor to discuss plans B, C, D, and/or E. I’d still like to put off surgery until my schedule is less packed, but chemical menopause is sounding pretty good to me right about now.