Doing my part to disrupt the space-time continuum.

Dear Menstruators,

I’d like to offer an apology for my last post in which I declared myself MenstruGreater than you just because you menstruate and I do not.

It was unfair, insensitive and laced with menopausal pride.

Since that time, I have become enlightened through a most disturbing series of discomforts associated with menopause that have befallen me. I believe this to be nothing other than a cosmic back-handed bitch slap right in the kisser from Mother Nature herself meant to serve as a warning against insensitivity. As if a crepe paper vagina isn’t enough.

None-the-less, I am nothing if not a MenoTrooper. Therefore, I shall slip on my maxi-padless big girl panties and say to all offended Menstruators out there, “I am truly sorry”. I intend to wear a crown of tampons atop my head as an adornment of humiliation for a week to prove my sorrow and sincerest regrets.

If it makes you feel any better, my menopausal discomfort is most profound.  My symptoms include burning mouth (as stated in the unfortunate aforementioned post) accompanied by numb lips, a strange taste and a film-like feeling on the back of my lower teeth. Since I recently had my teeth cleaned in hopes of ridding myself of this muculent malady, it seems more likely the filmy feeling is coming from my tongue, not my teeth. But either way, EW. I cannot brush my teeth enough to bring relief. I find myself constantly sucking on my bottom teeth trying to remove the film or sitting with my mouth hanging open in a vain attempt to cool this oral inferno.

It’s not an attractive look for me. I look like a mouth-breather. An uncomfortable, menopausal mouth-breather.

After trying several products from dry-mouth toothpaste to a baking soda rinse, I’ve taken to eating Jello gelatin by the pant load and drinking water until I slosh. While this provides a modicum of immediate relief, it is short-lived as the sizzling sensation returns the moment I swallow.

Talking with doctors has been unfruitful to this point. Aside from having my mouth removed, each one has offered little else beyond the Jello wallow. While they concur that it is indeed menoPlausable that this, too (like hot-flashes) shall pass, I’m finding little comfort in the idea of swimming in gelatin until Mother Nature cuts me a break.  Indeed, it is distressing.

Perhaps this is what I deserve. Maybe it is my pride that has gotten in the way of my true menstrual freedom. My hope is that my repentance will appease the Tampon Gods and the Pre-menstrual Panty-liner Pushers that do their bidding. If not, then I fear I am destined live among the rubble of my broken pride until my tongue bursts into flames, leaving me tongueless and perhaps even headless. Yes, I’ll have clean panties but what benefit are they if I’m nothing but ash from the neck up?

At the very least, I hope you, my dear Menstruator, will forgive. I’m a new woman, a reformed non-menstruator who has taken a vow of sensitivity toward those less fortunate.

Most Sincerely and with mouth ablaze,



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