Thursday, January 25, 2007

Don't talk to me; I'm ovulating!



Most of the below, although nothing extraordinary in the female world, may prove unnecessary, unfamiliar and downright scary to the male of our species, unless you happen to be a gynacologist, psychiatrist or have many, many sisters... If you should fall into the former category, feel free to not read this entry, rather skip to the entries below or if you have read those, wait another couple of days for a following entry which should have nothing to do with the female reproductive system.

premenstrual syndrome
–noun Pathology.
a complex of physical and emotional changes, including depression, irritability, appetite changes, bloating and water retention ...

Abbreviation: PMS
Also called premenstrual tension.


ovulation [(ov-yuh-lay-shuhn, oh-vyuh-lay-shuhn)]
The periodic release of an ovum from the ovaries (usually from only one ovary). After the ovum is released, it travels into the fallopian tube, and from there is moved to the uterus. Ovulation generally happens approximately two weeks into the menstrual cycle.
[Chapter:] Medicine and Health
The American Heritage® New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy, Third EditionCopyright © 2005 by Houghton Mifflin Company.Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.


So, now that we know the difference between PMS (or PMT as it is otherwise known) and ovulation, please do not mistake one for the other.

I'm one of the lucky few who don't get cramps, leg hair, arm hair, facial hair or cold sores. I don't get PMT, PMS or PM anything. If anything, mine reads PO (pre-ovulation). So whilst I don't get extra cranky before the big that-time-of-the-month (I say extra because there are some who will vouch for my crankiness whatever the time of day, month or year) when we try to shut ourselves away if we didn't need to network daily for social survival, my emotions reach peak control during PO time. When my emotions reach their peak, my brain stops working, what little reason and logic I had goes dormant and everything either falls apart or looks gloriously happy. When I am up, I'm sky high, oblivious to almost any worry and care in the world. But when I hit a trough, it results in blog entries like the one published before this. Where every question is a burden, every memory bitter, every travel weary and every thought gloomy. It doesn't mean I'll be all gloom and doom for a month until my jackpot strikes lucky and I resume basking in 'ignorant' bliss. It merely means that for those few days, don't ask me any 'life threatening' questions such as,

"Where should we go for lunch?"
"What will you do when you see so-and-so?"
"Do you know when we'll see you again?"
"Did you hear about so-and-so with so-and-so?"
"Do you know what bus number we need to take to get to X?"

The questions in themselves wouldn't break my back but it wasn't a bale of hay thumped on him that broke the camel's back was it? Just a straw.

Also don't make out any personal suggestions such as,

"Do you want to talk about it?"
"If you want to say anything, now's the time."
"Are we okay?"
"Do you really mean that?"
"Do you mind if I..."

because if you do, don't be surprised if I give you the blackest look I can muster, my way of controlling my emotions from taking over to turn me into a blubbering wreck. Yuck. I'll probably put on my absent, spaced out look to avoid understanding the questions or forgetting it altogether. And then what usually happens is the other party gets hurt or thinks I don't care or thinks I'm being difficult.

I'll try get some T-shirts printed when I go home for Chinese New Year so that when I am going through PO, both pre and post, look out or a sign across my T-shirt yelling out, "Don't talk to me; I'm ovulating!" and stay well away.

1 comment:

bianconero said...

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by