Month: September 2025

Ask Me About My Period 2: Slowly Bleeding to Death

megHan

[Ask Me About My Period: A Series]

Things just seemed to get worse.

I’d been falling asleep at my desk for weeks. I’d lost weight, really didn’t have an appetite – and when I did, I wanted all the food. I felt so off, so completely exhausted. And, as typical of me, I did a lot of pretending that I was okay.

But the bleeding didn’t stop. Ever. My period – my terrible period – just became… life.

I was afraid to go anywhere without a pad. (Hell, without a purse full of pads. I couldn’t even tell you the last time I could use a tampon.) And I mean PAD, the kind women use when they have bladder issues. I was going through several a day. Had extra clothes at work.

I was miserable.

I finally confided in my roommate what I was dealing with. And not because I thought she could help me, but to explain why I was a walking, talking, EXHAUSTED nightmare of a roommate that left a MESS everywhere. I just didn’t have the energy to finish anything. I was just barely getting by. And most of the time, not even that.

I was so utterly depressed. I would cry, begging God to take me if that was his plan. I couldn’t do this anymore.

A year ago – a year ago today – she told me to shut up and get in the car.

The night before she had said if I wasn’t feeling better the next morning, she was taking me to urgent care.

(I found out later that everyone knew something was wrong, they just weren’t sure what or how to help.)

I would have never gone on my own. I even told her that morning I just wanted to go to work. (I *had* to go to work.)

“Shut up and get in the car.”

The nurses and receptionists were all looking at me, watching me, as I filled out the paperwork. (I had to sit down at the counter/desk to fill it out – I hardly had the energy to stand. Had started using a cane.) And the doctor saw me right away. He touched my eyelids, my lips – “Do you have any blood in you?”

What?

I needed to go to the Emergency Room right away. He’d call ahead to let them know I was coming.

Checked in there. Waited. More waiting. Tests. Moved into a room. Sleeping – I did a lot of sleeping.

Finally something.

My hemoglobin was at a 5.7. (For reference, it’s supposed to be a 12. At 7, they do a blood transfusion.)

I was getting checked into the hospital…

Ask Me About My Period 1: Everyone Has a Story

megHan

[Ask Me About My Period: A Series]

Period.

A taboo subject.

Even amongst groups of women.

Never in front of men (they don’t *want* to know).

And doctors, for the most part, don’t listen.

So, women suffer (if they even realize they are) in silence.

At first, I thought nothing of it. I’ve never been regular. And the longer I went without having a period, the worse it got.

But this time it was… different.

I didn’t know who to talk to.

Mom had been gone for almost a year. I had fired my OBGYN because her bedside manner was atrocious.

I felt lost… alone. Scared.

A friend of mine, in passing, said she had an OB appointment, and I asked her where she went. Tampa. The guy was “great.” I decided to go there.

I left feeling rage.

He didn’t listen, didn’t understand, didn’t care. Despite me trying to explain just how much blood I was losing. Despite my fears and concerns.

“This is what happens when women get old.”

Old? I had never even considered myself old before.

“You just need to get used to it. This can go on for years.”

Get used to it??!! Get used to feeling constantly tired, to feeling ugly and disgusting and gross? To be afraid to leave the house? For years??!!

My insurance allows you to speak to a doctor via video chat and I set up an appointment. This time with a female. And I was picky.

I just wanted someone to hear me…

She was no different. Rude, abrupt. Made me feel silly, stupid. “He should have used the word perimenopause. Maybe then you would have listened to him.”

Perimenopause. The phase before menopause.

A word I had never really heard before. But things made sense. No wonder women are so angry during menopause – they bleed half to death during perimenopause and doctors call them old, tell them there is nothing they can do about it.

I even (half) joked with older ladies I’m friends with about it, saying we should talk about this subject more so that women are more prepared for this stage in life.

I was opening the door… and so many people had a story.

Maybe they were right. Maybe this was normal. Maybe I did just need to get used to it. Maybe.