Tag: bathroom

Okay, then, body

Menstruation stuff in this one – you have been alerted! ;P

………

So, I went to a meeting for folks who’s re wanting to get into the tech world this afternoon. I spent, perhaps, a grand total of five minuets in the two-hour session.

You see, I was having unusual abdominal-ish pain this afternoon from menstruation. Not that the pain is unusual as a concept for women menstruating, but that it is very uncommon for me. Discomfort? Sure. But pain? Almost never. So, for lack of a better way of describing it, it felt like I was about to have intense diarrhea, but in a slightly different area from my stomach and bowels. Aka it sucked big time.

However, when I do have this discomfort and occasional pain, pressing directly on the edges of my pelvic bone usually helps to relieve the discomfort and the pain. This applied today, too. I went to the bathroom as soon as I arrived, confirming that it was not diarrhea, and was merely my body being angry that it isn’t pregnant yet. Then, I went into the meeting. It had been listed and described as a happy hour, but it was a meeting. I sat in the seat offered to me, as only one other across the room was truly available, without a bunch of stuff sitting on the table in front of it.

Immediately, I regretted the spot. Clearly, the woman next to me was going to continue sitting on a blocking way, her back fully to me and leaning forward to the table, so I couldn’t quite be included in any discussion or see the person presenting directly. And it was also out of ignorance, not meanness, which somehow bothered me more. In addition to this, I identified a sweet, strong, fake, and sickly scent that was clearly someone’s perfume. It seemed to be this woman next to me. On the other side of me were open bags of chips, thus leaving my nostrils filling with horrible perfume and corn chips.

And did I mention that it felt warm?

I pulled out my fan almost immediately and started fanning myself carefully under the table, so as not to be rude. The presenter noticed and commented not to worry, that she had already reported about the air and it was being fixed, whatever that was supposed to mean. I recalled that it had been warmer when I’d walked into this section of the building, a shared office space area, and even warmer when I walked into this particular meeting room within that space.

Perhaps a total of three minutes pass, and my guts are going wild – I can barely stand to sit. I go ahead and stand to the side when there is a pause, and squat down and move around, seeing what my body may need. Suddenly, I am clear that everything within me wants to curl up on the floor… and possibly throw up. The latter is new, but growing with increasing intensity.

I quickly exit the meeting room. I then rush back in and grab a tampon, then re-exit the meeting room. My initial thought is to go to a bathroom.

But then I notice other things happening… I am about to pass out, I realize.

Ice pressed to the back of the neck is the number one helper when one is about to pass out. It then gives time to figure out whatever else the body may need – be it oxygen or water or sugar – but without having to pass out. I stumble across the office space and find a mini fridge. It only is a fridge; no freezer up top. It is filled with forgotten lunch bags from the grocery store and half-drunk water bottles. I grab a water bottle and put it to my neck, and promptly stumble to the floor.

The floor is smooth concrete. Any skin touching it feels the coolness as a balm. But it is still warm in the office – this won’t be enough.

As soon as I realized I was close to passing out, I called my mom and told her the scenario. I needed someone to know what was happening to me, as no one was about in the office space. I also wanted someone who could potentially help me, if I started having trouble thinking. So, I’m talking to her as I lie on the ground in this office. A woman appears and tells me I can’t lie there on the floor, but I can lie on the bench, and am I sure I don’t want her to call an ambulance?

I am sure, I tell her. I ask multiple times for ice, and she tells me they have none. Nowhere in the building? ‘We don’t have any.’ I still think she must be wrong, as it is a huge building with many setups within it. She must only be part of this particular office space. She does not seem entirely resourceful. I tell her I’m about to pass out and just need ice, that’s all. But she cannot seem to figure out what to do about that, and asks me again to move to the sofa bench.

My mom encourages me to make the move, so the woman doesn’t call an ambulance. With great effort I peel myself upward and fall forward to the bench, half-crawling and half-rolling up onto it. I’ve made it.

The woman disappears, as I tell her that cold water on paper towels would be helpful. Another women who speaks little English appears and hands me a full bottle of water that is very cold. Her shirt matches the orange polo the other woman was wearing. “Here. Cold.” And then she disappears again.

When I first try to grab the bottle, I can’t. My hand won’t work quite right. My muscles started tingling when I was on the floor, and they haven’t stopped. I am shaking in places now. This reminds me both of passing out and of the panic attack I had that one day at home alone.

Breathe. Slowly, fully… breathe.

I do.

I finally grab the bottle.

I roll to my back and hold the cold water bottle behind my head, resting my neck and head on it. It helps.

But I also need to drink some of this water, I realize clearly. I pull it out and replace it with a half-drunk bottle under my neck. Lying on it helps much more than just holding it to my neck while on my side. I drink some water. It does good. I screw the cap back on and out it back to my neck. It is much more effective than the other bottles.

I go to unscrew the cap to take another sip, but I haven’t sat up yet to take the sip, and end up slipping as I push myself up, and dropping the water. The cap is already off, so water goes all over the bench sofa. It is plastic on the outside, so it will be fine. But I have lost half my truly cold and drinkable water. It freaks the original lady out. She wants to call an ambulance. I decline firmly but kindly as I roll up and stand with my forearms on the tabletop next to the bench-seat. I apologize about the water, and then I drink some more of the cold water. It helps.

The woman bring me a USB-charged handheld fan. I point it at the back of my neck. It really helps.

I tell my mom I need to put down the phone. Please, let my man know the situation and see if he can come get me or not, then call me back in ten minutes. I tell her I’m going to the bathroom, then we hang up.

I take the fan with me and go back out into the hall to find a bathroom. I don’t find one, so go back downstairs to the one I’d used earlier. It’s just one flight and it’s right by the stairs. And I genuinely feel like I can handle the stairs, though I am still a mess.

In less than a minute, I am in the bathroom and stumbling to a stall. I use the toilet rather quickly, though express my pain and frustration while sitting there a moment. After I wash my hands, I sit in the floor and put my head against the wall. The wall is cold, and so is the floor. For that matter, it feels like all the cold air is blowing into this tiny two-stall bathroom, and not the rest of the building. It is very cold in here.

And it does me such good.

Within minutes, I can see fully clearly, all of my muscles feel normal, and everything has settled within me. Even the pain down low has lessened significantly, so it is still there. My need to vomit is nonexistent, and my breathing is, somehow, easy.

So, it’s all about the temperature, then… How odd.

If that is the case, though, then I need to go ahead and leave. It is far too warm in that part of the building and in that meeting room. Not to mention the smells in there that likely didn’t help. I want to be home. If this happens again, I don’t want to be here and having to deal with it again. I want to be home.

I tell my mom, and then I go upstairs to fetch my things and return the fan. I noticed instantly when I walk into the warmer part of the building how I start feeling worse. I return the fan and explain the Tyanne of ministration for the whole affair to the woman. Finally, she understands why I didn’t want her to call an ambulance. It was something that was going to pass, and that just had to be endured for the time being. She explains that she had had a stroke at one point, thus her terror for me earlier. But she gets it now, and is relieved. I tell her that I am not staying and then I’m going to go eat the snacks in my car, and go home; that I’m going to call a family member when I get in the car. She accepts and wishes me well.

I go back into the meeting to get my bag and sweater. I excuse myself and say that I need to leave. The leader comes to give me an information packet and bag, and asks if everything is OK. I mention that I am just having some real ministration trouble, and that I just need to go home. The room is all women, and they all get it immediately. They look at me, various types of knowing and commiseration in their eyes, and several of them wish me well and wish me feel better soon. None of them show signs of any negativity towards me or towards what I have said. I have to write down my name and email for the leader before I leave, though. In just these two minutes, I noticed my symptoms all getting worse. It is time to leave.

And I do.

I step into the bathroom for just a moment before leaving the building, to get one last hit of the really cold air all over my body. When I walk outside, the heat hit me in a way it didn’t earlier. My body does not want heat right now. Though it regularly feels better from any ailment just by sitting in the sun for a few minutes, that is not the case today.

Once in my car, I blast the a/c like I never do, and aim to get out all the heat as fast as possible. I can feel the sickness rising within me. I drink some of the last sips of the cold water, and it helps while I wait for the car to cool.

I remember that I had planned to stop at In-N-Out on my way home, so I could bring home burgers for my man and me. We love In-N-Out, but we live nowhere near one. I check in with my mom to tell her that I am leaving, and I ask her opinion. She says definitely to get the burgers. I can eat mine there or at home – whichever one feels best at the time. Nonetheless, eat the snacks I have in the car right now. We hang up, and I eat the snacks. I get our protein style burgers to go, and I fill my water bottle with ice to chill the warm water within it, and I make the 40-minute trek home with unexpected ease. Th cold water to sip makes all the difference.

We devour our burgers as soon as I get home. I drink ice cold water for a while, and then pass out – the good and intentional kind – on the sofa, exhausted. I sleep hard for just under an hour, and notice that the pain is gone and the discomfort is barely noticeable now. I was sweating all over at the office building, but my body temperature seems fully normal now. When I step outside, nothing happens right away, though the air is still plenty warm and humid. I’m able to stay out a few minutes before noticing even discomfort beginning. I am filled with relief.

Apparently, this episode I had today was just like what my mother experienced somewhat regularly in her younger years. She has said before that things sorted out after her first pregnancy, but that it had sucked until then. So, I imagine this was sort of that. She said she usually would curl up on the bathroom floor at home for twenty minutes until it passed, and then resume life, much like I had to do today.

I have had similar episodes myself, but never to this point of nearly passing out like today, or the intense draw to throw up. I just want to curl up on the floor, and I press my pubic bone and breathe deeply and slowly for maybe twenty minutes, and then it wanes and I can resume normal function.

Goodness… that’s nuts. And it’s even more nuts to think how many women have it worse off and regularly so. And it’s even more nuts to think that so much of the trouble likely ties into hormonal imbalances within our systems. How can we heal our bodies as a people?

Anyway, glad that all has passed. Goodness…

God, thank you for getting me through all of this today, and thank you for making the pain stop. Thank you for all the love and support I received, especially from my mom. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

Crazy and some more crazy

Sometimes, I wish that the thoughts that eat away at me could do that more literally, and specifically in the areas of my body that have more fat tissue than I’d like to have there.  That would be awesome, now, wouldn’t it?

Yes, I know that I might sound a bit crazy.  I certainly feel that way.  I’ve felt a bit crazy for a lot of today, I suppose, but in different ways.

I’m somehow still awake after ten pm, even though I was ready to go to sleep early this afternoon.  I guess it’s exhausting being so crazy.  😛   But actually, talk about an exhausting workout… try swimming again after not doing it regularly for years (except for a handful of times I did it in the fall).  I swam just over half a mile in about 45 minutes.  Not much for what I used to do, but huge for my recent list of aerobic activities (i.e. the occasional casual bicycle rides around the neighborhood).

**(Be prepared for some bathroom talk now, and do not read on if you don’t do well with that kind of thing.)**

After swimming, I got a smoothie with my dad (the kind with fruit and veggies, of course).  It was huge.  I drank the whole thing, and then realized, only as I began my half-hour drive home, that I needed to use the bathroom.  I considered whether it wouldn’t be best to turn back and go ask my dad to use the bathroom there, but figured I’d be fine.  When traffic hit, extending the length of the drive, I worried momentarily about whether I would have to urinate on the highway next to my car, the way my brother’s old girlfriend had once had to do.  Fortunately for everyone, the traffic was a minor holdup that ended very quickly.

Now, I once was in the bathroom stall at the movie theatre, when I noticed that the lady in the stall next to mine was urinating for a very long time.  I had happened to glance at my watch right as she’d begun, and so looked at it again, when I realized that she had not yet finished.  I was amazed when she finally ended, well over a minute after she had begun.  Talk about a lot of water.  That being said, I have, ever since then, had a certain awareness of my own capacity and how it goes about being released, so to speak.  The result of that smoothie today was definitely one of the greatest quantities I’ve ever managed.  Not only was the pressure ridiculously high, but it lasted over half a minute!

And, as entertaining as I am certain that that all is, I do not recommend it to anyone.  Having that much in the bladder at once is really quite miserable, and I hope this was the only time I must experience it.

Fun stuff, huh?  😛

Post-a-day 2018

Shower Surprise

I’m staying at my mom’s house tonight, and so am using my old bathroom and bedroom.  In the shower, she still has two of the bottles (for there were many) of shampoo and conditioner that I had used in high school.  They are from two different sets of shampoo and conditioner, and so they have different scents, but they both take me back.

As I use the shampoo, I remember those 5:20am showers, being barely able to move or see, yet chugging along anyway, so I could get to band on time…, never fully waking up until band practice had been going for at least a little while.  I remember my boyfriend from my senior year… the time we went to see the bats on Waugh Street bridge, and he guessed correctly the brand of my shampoo and conditioner (Herbal Essences)… how he was terrified that I might fall, and grabbed me when I leaned over the edge of the bridge to see the cars below (as if)… how we always did things together with my mom (that occasion included)…

And then I move to the conditioner, which seems to have lost most of its conditioning power in these many years of sitting there.  The same sorts of memories stay in my mind, but then one striking memory produces, and adds itself to the mental exercise.  I recall the morning of my hair surprise.  As I was rubbing the shampoo into my hair, I discovered what felt to be part of a pine needle, or else one of those brown cocoon-looking things that fall from trees and remind me of cattails crossed with pine cones and a thick worm.  “Really?!” I thought.

I had been lying down in and rolling around in the yard the night before, and apparently hadn’t even noticed that I had gottten some of these guys in my hair.  I slept with that in my hair.  How bad is that?

So, I grabbed the twig thing to toss it out the window (which was closed at the time).  As I was starting to pull it from my hair, being careful not to have it fall apart into my hair, I noticed a sort of burning sensation in the joint of my first finger.  As I brought my hand down from my head, twig thing in-hand, I began to panic.  I flung it to the ground in the shower, and began shaking my poor hand that had been holding it.  I might even have shouted, or even begun to cry loudly.  I vaguely remember my mom coming in to check what was wrong as I was crying in the shower… 

“What is it??”

“I just…[sob] got stung…[sob] by a wasp.”

“What???”

“It was in my hair… and I grabbed it… and it stung me.”  The sobbing continued, I believe.

It wasn’t that I was in extreme pain, so much as that I was extremely surprised.  First, I had been surprised at my having left tree stuff in my hair from the night before, rolling in the grass.  And then, I found out that a wasp had somehow gotten in through the closed window, landed on me as I rubbed in my shampoo, and then stung me as I removed what I thought was a stick or pine needle or pod thing.

Perhaps that’s why I left this conditioner here so many years ago.

Post-a-day 2017