Stuck in the Middle with You
October 24, 2008 at 02:52 PM Share Article There's something stuck in my vagina.
Day One - Sunday
My period is ending, but I put in a tampon on Saturday night, just in case. I wake up on Sunday morning, go through my morning bathroom routine, get dressed for the day and started to consider running errands with Seth. We get to feeling frisky, and have some sex.
Let me stop right here and tell you that I have never, ever written about my sex life on this blog. I never intended to, but this information is crucial to the story. It will never happen again - particularly if it has me using words like "frisky". What am I, 95-years old? Seth, don't answer that.
So, sex. And then getting dressed and actually running errands. As I'm sitting in the car, on our way to the fabric store, I got a sinking feeling in my guts.
I think I just had sex with a tampon inside of me.
Oh. GOD. OHmygod.
For the life of me I cannot remember taking it out that morning. My brain is made of swiss cheese, so this forgetting of crucial things is not uncommon, but now that there has been sex involved I'm worried. I spend the rest of the day concerned, pushing on my stomach with my hands to see if I can make the tampon pop out like a turkey timer. I stay awake until 4am watching Battlestar Galactica on the couch, waiting for the toxic shock syndrome to set in and kill me. I drift to sleep envisioning an eloquent, rash-ladden death.
Day Two - Monday
"Seth, I think there's a tampon stuck in me."
"What?!"
"Yeah but I don't know for sure! But I think it was in when we had sex yesterday and I CAN'T REMEMBER FOR SURE!"
"Well - I don't think that you have anything in there. I would've felt it, right? I mean, YOU would've felt it."
"..."
"..."
"Well, you're just being rational."
"Go to the doctor if you're worried, but I think you're fine."
"I think I'm dying."
"Oh, jesus, here we go."
I spend the day at school, pushing on my stomach, trying to feel for the cotton alien. I've never had anything in my uterus before, so I'm not sure how I'd even know it was there. Actually, I don't even know if I'll be able to feel my uterus through the layers of muscle, fat, and other organs. Actually, in all honesty, I don't even know where my uterus specifically is, but I imagine it's somewhere in the...middle..part...of the torso. Near the other pipes and tubes that..regulate...stuff.
I stop poking around with my hands, and start squeezing my guts as though I'm taking a shit. I walk around all day, relaxing and contracting. If I'm not dying, my abs are going to look fabulous.
I come home that evening, still worried, still dying, still not seeing a doctor. Seth convinces me that I'm fine; I spend the evening doing jigs in the kitchen and eating biscuits.
Day Three - Tuesday
Oh god I'm dying.
I've done the thing you should never do when you think there is something medically wrong - I asked the internet.
I am convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is a tampon floating around inside of me. My stomach hurts like crazy. This could be a result of stress, anxiety and walking around the entire previous day contracting my muscles. But it isn't. I know it's pain from the tampon, killing me from the inside out.
I could go to the doctor. But I hate doctors. My family did a great job of instilling THAT dysfunction in me. Do you know that Denis Leary joke about how his father severed his own finger and just taped it back together rather than go to the emergency room? That's my family. My grandfather lived with lung cancer for four years before he actually went to a doctor to get diagnosed. In his eyes, going to the doctor is just wasting money, paying someone to tell you that you're dying. Which you, of course, already know. My grandmother had a stroke, and had to be PHYSICALLY RESTRAINED in order to be brought to the hospital, telling people she just had a headache. While in the hospital, she was ALSO diagnosed with uterine cancer. She actually fought the doctor recommending treatment. According to my grandmother, she was 68-years old and had three kids - who gives a shit about having a hysterectomy at that point? Just let her junk go bad and leave her alone - there's a bingo game on Friday night.
Try growing up in that environment and justifying illness of any kind.
In my family, going to the doctor to have a foreign object removed from your body is a TOTAL DICK MOVE.
Day Four - Wednesday
"Seth."
"Yes."
"I've definitely got a tampon stuck inside of me."
"Did you check?"
"EW, no. I just know. I know that it's in there."
"This is not an appealing side of you."
"I know."
"Either go to the doctor or just shut up. This is not something that you can JUST KNOW without some kind of checking; GO TO THE DOCTOR, stick your hand up in there, or shut up."
"I'm going to die, and you're going to be sorry."
"Sorry that I had to spend the last three days listening to this? YES."
Day Five - Thursday
I call the women's clinic on campus in the morning. They are reluctant to give me an appointment for an exam, but I explain that it's an emergency. I skip my philosophy class and truck on down to the doctor's office. The nurse sees me right away; she instantly puts me at ease, telling me that this happens more than you'd think and there's nothing to be embarrassed about. We talk about how great my pink boots are, and she asks me a lot of questions about my tattoo.
The doctor comes in shortly thereafter. She tells me that she'll have the nurse on standby right outside of the door, just in case they have to fish anything out.
She actually used the words "fishing out". In reference to my lady bits.
She's really funny, and I'm actually laughing while she does the exam. I'm even happier when she tells me that there's no tampon inside of me, slowly disintegrating and shooting out death rays. We have a good laugh. She tells me to stop worrying.
I call Seth.
"The situation has been rectified."
"Did you go to the doctor?"
"Yes."
"Did you have a tampon stuck inside of you?"
"No."
"Is there any reason you should've been so worried for the past few days, making yourself sick with stress and anxiety?"
"No."
"Did they all point fingers and laugh at you?"
"NO, they said this happens all the time!"
"Well, I'm glad that you're not dying. I'm even happier to know that if you thought you WERE dying, it would take you almost a full week to seek medical service."
"I'm glad I went. But man - my stomach still hurts a lot."
"I hate you."
Reader Comments (32)
The end of the post is missing! Pop out like a WHAT???
Embarrassing sure... funny, heck yah!
We are the same brand of ridiculous.
If it helps, I once had a tampon inside of me for THREE WEEKS when I forgot to take out the last one when my period ended, and I was fine. Miracles do happen.
Maybe this is TMI of the worst kind, but I totally would have just stuck my fingers up there and 'fished around' a little myself!
Very funny story.
You poor thing. It's funny, of course, but I'm sorry that you were so scared! Next time paranoia sets in, remember that your, erm, inner passageway is only about the length of your middle finger so if you don't feel anything upon inspection, you're ok. I have that thought a lot at the end of my period (because my damn hell ass shit uterus hates me and my periods are unpredictable) and, of course, I immediately self-diagnose with TSS.
Mia - Oh, I had already gone beyond that point, thinking that the sex had actually forced the tampon, like, through my uterus into my bloodstream. New levels of ridiculous for the LOSE.
Schmutzie - three weeks? I would've killed myself with worry.
If you tell me that you're afraid to stick your own fingers in your own vagina to look for a "possibly missing tampon" well, I'm revoking your membership to the Thunderball Rolling Pussy Brigade.
Also, I once had a one night stand where the top of the rubber literally shot off and i had to spend like thirty minutes rooting around in my own junk (and some stranger's spunk) to retrieve the missing reservoir tip.
I'm still astonished that I've never had a pregnancy or an STD. (The case of crabs doesn't count, since I'm like 50% sure I got them from a sofa.)
For the record, I did the search-and-rescue like, in the dude's bed, immediately post-coitus. And then I handed him the rescued piece. CLASS ACT.
Seth says: "Leave it to Caitlin to post a story that simultaneously tops your story AND tells you to shut the fuck up. " God, that story is brilliant.
Of course I went rooting around in my own junk! I did a preliminary search, and when I found nothing I let terror take over. I'm still a member of the Rolling Thunder Pussy Brigade!
Ha ha ha. Next time, if you root around and find nothing but seth-spunk, you're good to go. ROLL OUT.
I laughed out loud reading your post...and like the nurse said it happens more often than you'd think.
There are actual tears rolling down my face right now.
I once had a tampon up inside me for a whole month. I forgot to pull out that last one-- you know the last one, where you probably don't need one but god forbid you miscalculate and end up bleeding all over your couch-- and went about my business FOR A MONTH, having sex, fuckin' going about my daily routine... all the while there's a rogue cotton missile jammed up in my action.
So I start my period again, the NEXT month, and of course I unwittingly cram another tampon up in there.
If you're keeping count, I now have TWO TAMPONS lodged in my vagina. TWO. And when I got around to pulling the newbie out, his fucking mangled, unrecognizable brother tampon made a break for it, too. Gasping for air.
Randy told me he once dated a woman who had accidentally left one up there so long he suggested she go to the doctor. For the smell. So I don't feel so bad.
In other news, Randy dates hobos.
Styro's comments and Seth's commentary is still making me laugh. God, I love that you thought you had a tampon roaming around your body, floating through your veins and ready to get lodged in your aorta any second.
Oh my GOD that was funny!
That aside, how did I not find your blog until now? It's thanks to Erin's tweet that I saw this entry and I was in tears reading it.
I've been there too, though I have aging junk so hopefully the "did I or didn't I " moments will be a thing of the past in a few years. Being over forty has some pluses!
Man, my junk is, um...crooked, so I get tampons stuck in me all the time. I can still feel them but it is very complicated to get them out. Once I put one in without pulling the string down first. To get that out I basically needed a head lamp and a crowbar. Good times. Just me and my whole arm up in myself! Next stop, the circus!
Nikki - I'm comforted by that; is that wrong?
Erin - What the hell with leaving a harpoon in you until it stinks? That makes my head hurt. But god, you and Caitlin are killing me here with your stories. I love you guys so much. I thought about calling you all week to be like, "WHAT SHOULD I DO?!" but I thought you'd laugh at me. NOW I know.
Belinda - Welcome to you and your aging junk!
Emily - Man, crooked junk. I've heard about that. Do we not suffer enough as women already? What the fuck.
Oh my junk is totally crooked, so half the time when I cram tampons up there, they get wedged in sideways and they hurt, so I have to pull them out and try again. I finally just gave up on tampons and now when I get my period I go archaic style and just rock the full-on adult-diaper size maxi-pads.
God, this has really devolved into the "stuff i lost in my vadge" thread, hasn't it?
Well, NOW it has.
Carry on, though - I always need the laugh, you crooked junked comedianne.
Stuff I lost in my vadge: Tampons, my keys, that odd sock, my youth...
Danielle,
I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my life. I'm sorry that it was at your expense.
But honestly, it's stories like these that make me glad I use reusable cloth menstrual pads. Sounds gross.. I know. But no grosser than fishing around in your lady bits for a lost tampon.
Once upon a time, I had an IUD. Once upon a time, after some "frisky" sex, it turned completely sideways and I swore I could feel it poking my bellybutton. FROM THE INSIDE.
I freaked, did a little consulting of the internets, and determined it should come out. And since it was a Saturday and I was poor, that meant I should pull it out.
"Fishing" for a foreign object in your "lady parts", and then pulling hard on a string when you find it? It's about eight times as awful as sitting around for three days doing jigs and stomach crunches.
How 'bout next time you suggest Seth "fish it out"? Bet he won't suggest that one EVER AGAIN.
Em made me snort with the "things I've lost in my vadge" comment. Win with "my youth" LULZ. FUNNY COS IT'S TRUE.
You guys are hilarious. I've managed to have sex with a tampon (drunkenly thinking to myself "my GOD, he's going to beat my cervix to DEATH with his wang!"), I've wedged two up in there (nothing like the lightbulb going on the moment you've completed firing the missile, yeah?), and I've managed to forget that I had one in there for a whole week at the end of my period.
So don't feel bad. Any of you. (yeah, styro, i've even fished around in my lady bits/cute strangers junk in his bed immediately after the action to find the getaway rubber, too. Ah, youth!)
OMG! This is hilarious. Thank you for sharing. I found this while researching my issue. For some reason, my tampon actually slipped out on its own when I went to the bathroom. Went I went to take it out, 4 hours later, it was already gone, My short fingers just wont go that far up. I too had stomach pains just worrying about it. But that good ole boyfriend of mine was very eager to try and locate it for me. (men, go figure) .Of course, he found nothing.
Just wondering, many things actually, after reading and laughing and applauding the disgust that you ladies bravely put out for others to enjoy - my question is this - what does it take to be accepted and welcomed into
Rolling Thunder Pussy Brigade? I'm straight - am I out?