“I have the WORST period pain. Pretty sure my uterus is about to fall out,” I text messaged my sister Katie, hunched over my knees, sitting on my decades-old couch, preparing for imminent death/uterus shedding.
“I know. Simon told me,” she replied.
A second later another text beeped through: “You left him a little present.”
I paused. Then I felt all the blood drain from my face. I read the message again. Then again. My mind whizzed through a very silent, rapid panic attack. Then I realised I hadn’t inhaled oxygen for about a minute.
“Lol he’s traumatised.”
I had spent the previous evening sleeping in their spare bed – they have a swanky two-bedroom townhouse on the outskirts of the city – but I was certain I didn’t leak. I checked the sheets that morning and was delighted to see I hadn’t created my own interpretation of the Japanese flag. Thank god for the ‘tampon, then pad at the back’ method. My old trusty faithful.
By ‘present’ did my sister mean Simon found a… cylindrical parcel? A soggy one wrapped in… toilet paper?
Listen: Dr Ginni shares the biggest misconceptions women have about their bodies. (Post continues…)
I mentally took myself through all my ‘waste disposal’ trips while I was staying over. I could have sworn I put all my used sanitary items in the bin. I wouldn’t just forget a used tampon while being the guest in another person’s home, would I? WOULD I?
Oh god, that must be it. I must’ve left one next to the toilet bowl. He’s picked up my used tampon. F*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck F*CK.