Death. Yours of theirs.

Oh god, it really is just another name for felching, isn’t it.

Add P.E. teachers trilling “come on, get on with it - we all get them girls!” and GPs bleating “it’s normal, it’ll go when you have babies” and Facebook Lindas giving it “Sick days for periods?! Just pop a paracetamol and stop making a fuss!” for added authenticity.

So if you want the endometriosis and adenomyosis experience just jab three holes in your belly, inflate the cavity with air, poke in some kitchen utensils and mix your giblets up like they’re a Christmas cake batter and presto!

Have one already. I take shitting very seriously.

I got a set of commemorative photos of my fucked up innards to take home, like you get at the end of a ride at Alton Towers, but cursed.

I threw up in a bush, got home at 22:45, went straight to bed where I rolled around burping.

Am tired, sore, bloated and covered in cats.

Latest:
Surgeon ordering another MRI (in roughly two weeks) and tag team another surgeon in to violate me with a bum-camera to see if the endo has gone all the way through the bowel wall. Next steps after that.

Me earlier: My periods aren’t THAT bad really, I’m sure I’ve just been making a fuss
My uterus: No no, I’ve been proper fucking you up worse than you know LOL

Good news: I’m awake and alive
Bad news: They weren’t able to remove my uterus because as well as adenomyosis I also have endometriosis which the MRI missed and it has fused my uterus to my bowel
Good news: I can go home tonight

Waiting for the surgeon to come and tell me more. This is all I know.

‪…and does the brisket come with kibble? Great. And I’ll just throw it up in your shoe when I’m done before licking my taint on the table. ‬

‪Me to the server: The Purina smells particularly delicious today - is it fresh?‬