911

9:30 at night Golden Boy hands me the phone with nothing more than “They wanted to know how old I was and said that they needed to talk to you”. Wow, the possibilities are endless on that one...

Long story short, it’s the 911 dispatcher who, naturally, wanted to talk to a responsible person in the house. As my mum wasn’t available I figured there was no way to dodge the call and took the phone. Turns out, TDQ had called in a panic and given the performance of her life as Taylor Swift in Tear Drops on my Guitar (slowly sinking while leaning against the wall, mascara smudged... can’t breathe....)

Oh the drama!

The real problem, as it turns out, is fear of pain or perhaps more accurately fear of the unknown. TDQ has very real and intense period pain for about the first four hours of every visit from the silent red ninja (thank you NDM). We found early on that a quick dose of over-the-counter medication will ensure a smooth transition to ninja-dom. Miss the timing and all hell breaks loose – cramps, vomiting, sweats, Taylor Swift, you name it.

Having led a (thankfully) relatively pain free life I’ve been trying to get my head around the anxiety of knowing that pain is coming and being helpless to stop it. I think back to childbirth, wisdom teeth removal, the odd 3 day stomach flu when you know that the brief respite from hurling is just your body’s way of fooling you while preparing for the next wave. It’s truly a scary feeling to know that something is coming, a Mac truck of pain hurtling down the highway on a collision course for YOU.

Late on a Friday night after a week of summer action, with rowdy kids and my mind on 100 things at once, I guess I wasn’t paying enough attention. I did break out the Advil, warm up the comforting hot-pack and remind TDQ of the protocol (change out of the shorty-shorts, babe) but I think she is genuinely scared of what’s coming. The waves of pain which can, for her, get so high it’s hard to see over top. It’s hard to put myself in TDQ’s brain and see the world as she does – is her perception different to mine? It’s probably about as easy to analyze as whether you and I see colours the same – who can really tell? Blue is, well, blue. And red is (don’t get me started....)

Of course, while I mock the TDW mercilessly I also try to understand what’s going on and help her through it. She has had some terrible experiences both at home and school when she didn’t speak up soon enough. She sees the ninja approaching and knows that she’s in big trouble... what else to do but call 911?

Period pain is truly a pain in the arse. Fact.