I woke up this morning with my crotch on fire. It felt like I had fiberglass knickers on. I've never had such a painful, swollen awful rash in my girlbits like this before*. A Brazilian by Sweeney Todd would've been kinder. And why have I woken up with pants aflame? I've developed an allergy to my tampons**. Yup, just like that. I've had a little bit of irritation in previous months, but not like this. My body has really sent the message this time: I hate these fucking things, get them out!
OK! All right, can we talk about this? What can we do? Well, Girlbits and I went a googling about and found some interesting alternatives. Some weird , something to consider for the future (Don't you love that it contains a bar of chocolate!) and then I found something worth trying. An insertible cup that catches all the flow that I just remove, dump, clean and re-insert? Sounds easy enough and I like that I'll never have to shell out for hygiene products again (Especially as I have to pay TAX on them in the UK what a fucking insult!!), or have to ask Gavin at the gym to open the tampon box. So I've ordered it. Here's hoping it'll be good. I mean, it can't be any more difficult than when I had a diaphragm - which was useless when the Husband insisted on a condom everytime, but it's in the past, in the past.
Whether my Mooncup arrive in any expedient timely fashion I don't know but here's hoping. Hey, have I told you that I'm also getting us girls a Shewee each for when we go to Japan? I don't fancy my chances of peeing in a squat toilet while wearing jeans. I don't wear skirts so it's an essential purse gadget. (ok, really I just want to pee standing up.)
*I had an issue with thrush last year.
**Actually, I think it's just the string.