An Issue of Blood

I had a happy childhood. My cat, Kitty, would come through the top-open portion of the window every Saturday morning and sleep at my feet. During the week, the family woke up early and gave Kitty something to eat. On Saturdays, we were allowed to sleep in. So Kitty would climb in through the open window to see what had happened with his breakfast. He was not our cat; he belonged to the neighborhood. He would walk from yard to yard to look for food and companionship. He visited our home daily for a period of time. Then he disappeared, only to return in two weeks.

I loved Kitty and always lifted him up like a baby. He would watch television in my lap and purr as I stroked his brown and white fur. He was my friend and sat at my feet at the dinner table. I would drop food onto the concrete floor for him. I noticed that he would eat any meat I dropped but would leave the vegetables. I would ask Daddy why Kitty ate the meat and not the vegetables. He said that cats ate meat. I noticed that Chunney, my dog, ate lots of meat also. I also observed that sometimes Kitty and Chunney ate a small amount of grass from the garden. I asked Daddy why they did that. He said they were eating the grass as medicine.

Kitty was my friend. When I did not like what was on the dinner plate, I would drop it, and he would eat it up. I learned a lot from Kitty. I watched him sit still for hours, looking. I asked Mom why he did that. She said he was looking for a lizard, and he had to be quiet and sit still so that the lizard did not know he was there. I would lie down still beside him and watch for a lizard too.

I had to sit still after dinner. If did not sit still, I would be sick. Every evening after dinner, I had to take some antacid and sit still for an hour to settle my stomach. One day, I had some pac choi and was sick. I didn’t like to eat too many vegetables.

***

When the teenage years rolled by and puberty started, I experienced the usual monthly pain. I took painkillers, and I was fine. During puberty, I was sick each time I had my monthly cycle. The pain at the start of the cycle indicated the trauma that was to come. It started with diarrhea and then severe pain on the first day or two of the cycle. I had to take a painkiller to stop the pain. I also was sick after some meals, especially dinner, during my cycle. I guessed every woman had to go through this pain.

My friend Judine Scope had similar pains during her menstrual cycle. We would talk about it while walking from classes. She stayed home from school to cope with the pains. I didn’t stay home from school. I loved school, and I didn’t want to get behind and have to catch up on for all the missed classes. So I kept painkillers in my purse each day.

As I got older, the pain seemed more severe, and it took more painkillers to get me through my monthly cycle. One of my friends, Angelica Tate, an older woman, said that she’d had pains with her monthly cycle, but after she’d had a baby, the pain had stopped.

***

My beautiful baby was born. As I watched her sleeping soundly, I thought how beautiful she was and how glad I was that she was here. I had been sick for the entire pregnancy. The delivery was especially painful.

I now hoped I would get some relief from the pain during my monthly cycle. I had felt absolutely no pain so far. This was heaven.

A year later, I had a small amount of pain during my monthly cycle but not the excruciating pains I’d had before. This was heaven. I was looking forward to the years to come.

***

Two years later, I had to go to the doctor. The pain had started again. This time, the pain was severe. Each month, the pain lasted longer. It started one day before my monthly cycle, lasted throughout the cycle, and lingered through a day after the cycle. The pains increased over three months. They began to start a week before the beginning of my monthly cycle and would continue until a week after my cycle had and. Soon, I was engulfed in severe pain every day. Day and night, with no letting up, the pain came. When I had my cycle, I was sick. I was in bed, doubled over in pain. It was so severe that the painkillers that had once stopped the pain for six hours only lasted an hour. I needed the doctor to prescribe stronger medicine.

I went to a gynecologist. After all, the pains had started in connection with my monthly cycle. The examination was totally embarrassing. The doctor, Tantrum Ruben, tried to figure out what was wrong with me. He took his time. He sent me to take many tests. After one test, I felt okay and did not go back to Dr. Ruben.

I can manage this pain, I told myself. I am not a wimp.

But when the prescription tablets were finished and the pain came back, I made another appointment to see the doctor.

Dr. Ruben and I discussed the results of the first batch of tests I had undergone. He gave me some more prescription tablets and sent me to take another batch of tests. I went and took the tests. And as before, I felt a little better and did not go back to the doctor.

When the tablets were finished and I could no longer bear the pain, I rushed back to the doctor. The final test was a laparoscopy.