My Last Bloody Valentine
Noah has parted the Red Sea in my pants for the last time!
I have mopped up my final feminine crime scene investigation!
Red Elvis….has evacuated my vagina! Elvis was the name of my monthly hemoglobular expulsion.
And it’s AWESOME.
Yep, this female was deemed privy for a procedure called, ABLATION. Let me Wikipedia that for you….
- the surgical removal of body tissue.
2. the removal of snow and ice by melting or evaporation
SOURCE: The internet…..duh
So I had either tissue removed or they tossed salt and cinders through my vagina. Damn, looking back on this, I hope it was the first one…
Okay, I’m pretty sure the first one. I remember seeing a little crème brulee torch they would use to burn off my uterine lining.
Holy shit, maybe they DID do number 2. Salt and sugar look the SAME!!!
All I know is I will no longer experience the sensation of a massive clot the size of a can of Thanksgiving cranberry jelly dropping-it-like-it’- hot at the most inopportune time in my drawers.
Now, for some woman, this monthly ritual is embraced and considered beautiful. It reminds them that they are goddesses with the ability to bring life into the world. There are woman out there creating art with their menses- standing over canvases and letting their sloughed off cells, mucus and blood, develop into works of art! Like finger painting but….without fingers or paint….
Me, on the other hand, I am just DONE. I’m done being a fertile female. I’m done hollering “thar she blows” as my white whale spews chunks from my tired blow hole. I. am. done.
Am I grossing you out?
Good. Now you know how most women feel every goddamn month.
So…how did surgery turn out, you ask?
Well, other than the inevitable stench of BBQ every time I have to pee…I’d say it went pretty well.
I wanted to use my blogging abilities to educate woman who no longer wish to experience hot magma exploding from their vaginal volcano.
So, I have created a few tips to get you thru your own ablation or hysterectomy.
1. Do not stuff a raw piece of meat in your vagina with a note that reads “I could have become someone.” It IS funny, but not to everyone. Killjoys.
2. Do not ask them right before surgery if they’ll also take ‘a little off the top’ while they’re down there and work in a cute circumcision like your idol, Caitlyn Jenner. Again, not everyone shares our sense of humor.
3. Do not ask for your singed uterine tissue or your uterus in a jar. They make you sign a waiver agreeing you won’t ask for it. I guess I need a new idea for Christmas gifts this year…
4. Do not braid your ‘carpet’ into cornrows with colorful beads and request the nurses to sing Buffalo Soldier as they wheel you into the OR. As it turns out, these young nurse don’t know all the lyrics to the tune. What the hell are they teaching them in nursing school??
5. Don’t tell them you’re a ‘squirter’. It’s really none of their business but the look on their faces when it spontaneously happens is pure gold. GOLD, I tell you!
If you don’t know what a ‘squirter’ is watch the classic porno, ‘Why he’s really named Squirtle: the darker side of Pokémon.’
6. Do not hand the surgeon this ultrasound and ask him if he’ll find a new home for ‘Chad.’ Honestly, Chad will find a new home on his own. The little scamp.
7. Do not scrawl a note on your girly-parts that reads, “While you’re in there, could you please look for my lost car keys…” I woke up with another note that simply read, ‘No.’ I’ll be damned if I give them a smiley face on their hospital survey.
8. While in pre-op, when asked your name and birthdate, do not roll your eyes until the whites show, throw your voice to your vagina and growl, “There is no (insert name here) only Zuul.” Not everyone shares our love of Ghost Busters. Although, most people do share our disappointment in Ghost Busters 2.
So to recap without boring the BBQ scented piss out of you:
Having fun at your surgeons/nurses expense-BAD.
Funny as all hell, but bad.