I Am Furious Period

(And now for a healthy dose of TMI Realness, sponsored by weekly repeats of Father Ted.)

Here’s the deal.

I started taking birth control when I was 12. Back then, my periods had just started and were causing me immense pains. They’d also poke their evil head around whenever I was least expecting it, causing me more than one situation where it looked like I’d been the victim of a particularly furious animal attack.

So Mumma Boyd, ever so kind, shuttled me off to our GP, who prescribed me the Pill (after carefully enquiring if I’d had or was planning to engage in any sexual contact)(I believe my answer was “Fuck no!”).

I’ve been taking the Pill ever since. Those with mad calculating skills and recollection of the fact that I’m presently 22 will have figured out that it’s now been ten years.

The routine of taking it has been one of the few constants I had in my life in the past decade.

So when I ran out of my usual prescription last month, it was fair to say that I was panicking.

Before I left for the UK, I made sure I had enough of my medication to last me for a while, at least until I was properly settled. This included my Pill, of course, and when I reached the end of my last strip a couple of weeks ago, I duly made an appointment (well, ILB made it for me) with my new GP for a new prescription.

He managed to find me an exact match for the components in my old Pill, which I found to be good news. And then he told me that, because it had been more than seven days since I last took my Pill, I’d have to wait until after my next cycle to take my new strip.

It made sense. But all I could think about was “Bollocks, bollocks, shit, fuck, tits” (because situations like this turn me into Father Jack).

I was so incredibly used to being on my Pill, and having the components regulate my system that I felt quite lost. But I managed well, having sex with condoms and just keeping busy so that my mood didn’t drop.

But early last week, I had a panic. I could swear that I was due on Monday, and by Friday there was no sign of “Auntie Flo”. The panic was strong in this one, I tells ya.

But as is the case with Auntie Flo and having a cycle without my Pill to regulate it, she popped her ugly head around the corner at the most inappropriate time. You know, for old times sake and that.

In this case, we were in a cinema on the Haymarket, about to sit down to watch The Bling Ring. I’d been feeling like crap for most of the day, which was only aggravated by the throngs of tourists and the hot weather. And when I went to the toilet, I found out why.

Luckily I was wearing a pad, just in case.


The last couple of days have been hard. Without the regulation of my Pill, my periods have been harder, nastier and more painful than ever before. I’ve had spontaneous breakdowns, even more moments of irritability and just all the stuff that comes with having your period, but amped up to twelve.

But blessings due, because I get to go and collect a new batch of the Pill later in the week. And I will make a new appointment with the GP, to bring him up to speed.

In the meanwhile, I’m keeping hydrated, because this weather is driving me batshit.


Leave a comment


  1. Your body got a chance to self-regulate a bit, but what a scary few days that must have been. I’m sure all sorts of crying baby scenarios popped in your head. Yikes!

  2. That sounds awful. ugh. hope it’s over soon

  3. I sympathise – the SO used to be dependent on a pill (called Marvelon, IIRC) to control an embarrasingly erratic “cycle” (just to add to the whole squicky girlstuff scenario, an emergency hysterectomy eventually sorted that big-style). But what I really wanted to say was that the title for this post may be the greatest ever – does the ‘Curious Orange’ reference come from the original film or via Lee & Herring?

  4. This is why I am so glad to be man.

    The only involuntary leakage I get, is usually because of a wet dream, and that can be quite the fun time.


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