Lady Problems

continued from How Will I Know

One of the first traumatic experiences in my life was getting my period. You know those rare stories you hear about girls that have awful cramps and vomiting at the “time of the month”? Nice to meet you, I am Shaz and I am one of them.

Since I was 10 years old, I’d miss two days of school a month because of this thing. Weddings, birthday parties, family events, awards ceremonies also. It was awful. I remember one time I heard my aunts say “lord please don’t let Shaz be on her period this day!”

I feel bad for my mom, dad, and brother who had to support me during these times. Whether it was listening to the awful howling of me in pain, leaving work and having to pick me up from school early, or running to the store to get me more pads because my heavy bleeding made me go through all the ones we had.

It was rough. “I feel bad for you…not us” my mom said before my procedure. “All that pain you went through and are going through now, it’s not about us at all”.

When I was 18 and in college, my parents finally agreed to put me on birth control pills. Of all the things they were liberal about, they were conservative when it came to reproductive health. The adjustment took a year and it was rough, but after that first year- I was vomit free. And I only got periods 4 times a year!! HALLELUJAH. I still got mild cramps, but they were rarely severe or included vomiting and plus I didn’t get many periods. No more missing school, work, or special events. It was awesome.

Everything was going great until what happened last year. Last year, my pills totally started to fail. Not only when it came to period symptoms, but period timing. I thought cramps were bad, well I guess I didn’t realize there was something worse- 6 week long periods!!!

You know what happens next. This happened a few times, I found out I have PCOS and Endometriosis that contributed to all these symptoms, I had a breakup and had a cyst that ruptured, we tried another pill that worked miraculously for almost a year and that also became ineffective and my wonderful specialist Dr. Davis finally convinced me to get the IUD.

So that brings us to about two weeks ago:

Two weeks ago it’s the day before my IUD procedure (yes I’m calling it procedure because due to my two conditions it was high risk for me). I have gone another weekend with Prince Player not texting or calling. We were supposed to talk a few days before my procedure so we can decide when he can visit. Obviously, it wouldn’t be good for him to come while I am recovering. So no calls no texts.

Until the day before. Player says he is stressed, but wants to be here for me during this time. This is incredibly sweet and so unlike him. I love it…

On the afternoon of, he texts me right before. He reminds me I got this and says he wishes he could be there for me to take care of me. It’s really sweet.

When I get to Dr. Davis’s office, I sit in the procedure room. This is very different that the exam room. They play nice pop music and stuff and the lighting is different. I just need to get this over it, why is Dr. Davis taking so long?

After 12 minutes, Dr. Davis enters.

“Oh good. Let’s do this Dr. Davis. You’re gonna make this as painless as possible for me right?”

Dr. Davis looks me dead in the eye. “Let me get Nurse Karina for you so you can squeeze her hand”.

He leaves to grab her.

WHAT THE EF. THAT IS NOT A GOOD SIGN!!! Plus I cannot stand Nurse Karina!!!

Karina and Dr. Davis walk in. Ugh.

“Shaz. You know Nurse Karina. She is tough and you are tough so this will go good”

Jesus. Mary. And Joseph.

“K Karina. Let’s do this” I say holding out my hand. She smiles under her mask and holds my hand with both of her gloved hands.

“Cough Shaz” Dr. Davis says.

“Cough? Ok” I do a light cough. And I feel that piece of whatever it is pop right inside me!!!

“OH MY GOD” I say through clenched teeth and squeezing the hell out of Karina’s hand.

“Just breathe honey” Karina says.

I hold my stomach. I can’t feel the lower half of my body.

“You did great” Dr. Davis says smiling after the procedure. “Thank you Karina” he says.

Karina leaves. I get up slowly.

I look at him with tearful eyes.

“It will be ok Shaz. Hopefully this will help” Dr. Davis said.

“I am about to start throwing up right now” I say.

“Let me leave. I will be back in 5 minutes to check on you. I’ll send Karina too” Dr. Davis says.

I take off my mask and puke a little in the trashcan. Thank god I’m vaccinated. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable doing this if I wasn’t.

I lay back down on the procedure table. I text Prince Player.

He texts back right away. He is so sweet.

Karina walks in when I’m taking a drowsy selfie for Prince Player.

“Here is some water for you” she says smiling.

“Karina, listen that ain’t gonna help. I will throw up more. I don’t feel good” I say.

“Do you have a low pain tolerance?” she asks.


“I have more pain tolerance than the average woman. But I have Endo and PCOS that gives me a lot of pain” I say for the 100th time. She reminds me of the nurses in school who didn’t believe me when I was complaining of menstrual cramps.

She nods “Drink the water though”.

Ok yea whatever.

She leaves and I try my best to get up.

Oh my Jesus this hurts like hell. I clutch the exam room table and lean on it like I’m doing a plank standing.

Dr. Davis walks in.

“Good you’re standing” Dr. Davis says.

I stare at him with my mask dangling down the side of my ear. I prop it back on.

“Don’t you see what I just did?” I ask.

I point to my vomit.

He nods. “Feel better?”

He got me there. “A little bit…” I say. “Hey do you have drugs?”

“If you’d like I can give you some narcotics” he says.

“You should” I say.

“Ok but it would knock you out…” he says.

“Fine then don’t” I say.

Dr. Davis laughs. “You’ll be sore for just a bit. Take 3 ibuprofen every 6 hours” he says.

Oh lovely. My last dose was only 1.5 hours prior, so I have 5.5 hours to go.

“In the meantime walk around a bit, it may help” Dr. Davis says leaving.

Oh my Jesus. What is wrong with people.

I walk around a bit and drink the water Karina gave me.

I vomit 5 times. I walk to the nurse’s station.

“Karina can you get the doctor please?” I ask.

“He is doing a exam for another patient” I say.

“Ok please tell him I threw up 5 times” I say.

Karina looks in shock (she should have listened to me) and nods.

Dr. Davis walks back in.

“So how do you feel now?”

“I’ll admit I feel a teensy bit better after vomiting all that out. But I can’t feel the lower half of my body. It hurts so bad. I think I will call my Uber soon, I have to lay down”.

Dr. Davis nods. “Ok. I told you about your recovery. Now about sex. You may start having sex within 24 hours”.

I smirk. “Believe me. That will not be happening”

“Next week though maybe” Dr. Davis says.

I raise an eyebrow. Well then.

“You know how to reach me. Call me if anything happens. I need to see you soon to check that it’s in place and do an ultrasound. You can schedule that appointment when you’re feeling better” Dr. Davis says.

I nod. My Uber arrives.

I planned my outfit so well. I kept my dress on the entire time, and I didn’t put my leggings back on because the lower half of my body hurt too much. I had tall boots on too so I wasn’t too cold in the 30 degree Chicago weather that day.

The Uber ride is so uncomfortable with the tremendous pain. I want to puke again. I pray in my head to help me hold it until I get home. Somehow I make it through the 18 minutes. For once I am happy it is not a chatty driver. It is a driver going at good speed to get me home, not evening knowing my situation which I thank god for.

When I get home I realized I see I soaked my giant maxi pad. I feel like I just birthed a baby.

I throw up twice again.

I change into a new maxi pad and a nightie. Again the nightie will ensure my body is not crushed.

I just want to go to sleep but I’m hungry. I order what my parents used to get me when I had bad cramps and vomiting. Chicken McNuggets with honey, fries, and Apple juice. After eating that I feel so much better.

Thank goodness for Uber and Uber Eats honestly. If this was the olden days, I would have needed a lot of friends to support me through this time.

After eating I sleep. I feel crampy again when I wake up, and again have soaked my maxi pad. Good news is it is time to take my second dose of meds. I do so and sit down on a step stool for a while, sitting in that position makes me hurt less. Throughout the night and days in recovery I do it when I feel crampy. My friends who have had babies tell them I’m reminding them of postpartum.

Prince Player is amazing, checking on me through the night and next few days. I send him selfies and my progress, he tells me I’m cute and is just so supportive. He is finally there for me when I need him the most.

It’s hard when he vanishes. Or when he says he will call or text but doesn’t. But I try not to get anxious about it. I know anxiety will slow down my recovery time, and I know where my player sits in my heart. If I don’t have one in his, that is just a problem for another day.

Right now, I’m getting through my lady problems. It’s been about a week and a half since the procedure now and I’m feeling a lot better. I think as the doctor said, this will help a lot and I can catch a break real soon.

xoxo. S.

I Am Woman (Part 5)

Ok don’t panic, just an hour and a half last of health accounting class. I can do this.

Fuck me. Who was I kidding? I made the poor decision of going off of birth control. And now I am sitting in a hot, uncomfortable, graduate school night class. Excessively bleeding. Terrible cramps. Ready to vomit.


I have been on these pills for SIX years. These pills helped me be a normal woman. Regular periods, rarely vomit, manageable cramps.

Oh yea. I was thinking, I want to have a kid someday. And I don’t think it’s safe to be on birth control for this long so I might as well “practice” being off the pill.

I am an idiot. 1) I am not having a kid anytime soon. 2) The Kardashians were on birth control pills for a long time and they all had (or are going to have) babies!!!

As soon as class ends, I try to rush home. Not only do I have a 30 minute commute, I have to pick up tampons. The cold 20 degree weather outside does not help. As soon as I get home, I put my hair in a bun. I know what my next 15 minutes will be. VOMIT. Ahhh!!!! I lay on the bathroom floor.

I vow. Never to go off of these pills, unless it is time to have a child.

I get up off the floor. Thank goodness I have no class tomorrow I thought. But how am I going to deal with this pain? I look at the Advil on my counter. “No painkillers” the doctor said.

Ok well. She forgot about my monster cramps. I tell myself I’ll just have two today. And two the next day if needed. That’s it.

I take the Advil and sleep a solid 8 hours. I wake up and something feels very wrong. I lift up my sheets.

a2648563ab471221258516acae390056--hilarious-quotes-so-funnyBLOOD EVERYWHERE. I jump. My poor bed sheets. My poor Victoria’s Secret pajamas. I slept with a tampon AND pad for goodness sake what gives!

Jesus no wonder why I’m anemic.

I shower and then I go to CVS. I buy a box of overnight pads because clearly the other ones are not working. And the cashier is the same woman as the day before!! Lord, she must think I have a serious issue. But, then, the dude cashier who is overly flirtatious comes to ring me up. I give him my pads and look down. Ugh.

I come back home and watch Real Housewives of New Jersey. I drink some soup. That’s what I’ve been having for the past three days :0

I converse with some of my guy friends. I wonder if “Prince Player” or Yassin ever had girlfriends who had monster periods like me. Gasp. Why am I thinking about Yassin’s past girlfriends? Why am I putting Yassin in the same category as “Prince Player”?? It’s because he’s showing all the signs “Prince Player” showed when he was interested in me.

“I don’t want to be in a relationship right now because of that other guy” I told him in reference to my last partner who emotionally abused me.

“I understand” he said.

But that conversion was 6 months ago.

Gasp. It is so like fate to have Yassin move back to Boston just as I am graduating. But I don’t like Yassin in the way. He’s just a great pediatrician who loves children as much as I do.  But I like how he always checks up on me and supports my work around sexual assault.

And what about “Prince Player” jesus.

I close my eyes. I think way too much on my periods.

xoxo. S.

I Am Woman (Part 2)

Well. Last night before I went to sleep, mother nature showed up telling me I was not pregnant.


This morning I wake up to go to work. I crouch to the floor. Jesus. Christ. Mother of all pains. Thankfully work is with the other public health educators in the state today and most of them go to my school so we meet on campus. But my boss slams me with work.

In between I get a Snapchat from “Prince Player”. It has a Starbucks in it. Oh that’s right, I usually send him a picture of my Starbucks run. But in the morning I was so crampy and busy I didn’t have a chance to get one. I am tempted. I go get myself a latte (which I would regret later).

As I wait, my boss gives me another deliverable to work on. And on the day it is due, I already have 2 other major project due! Eep! And this new deliverable he is having me do is an article about tick bite virus prevention.


Being a female scientist is not a joke.

Alright but I manage. I’m tough. I’ll space my abstract and two articles due in increments over the next two weeks.

And then I get word the lead Epidemiologist at the state department wants to meet with me because she is impressed with my abstract idea. OH MY GOD. I quickly go home and change into a better dress and heels and call an Uber. It would take me forever if I go by train.

The Uber pool is $12. Great.

My cramps get intensely worse in the Uber as if I’m having labor pains and I start taking deep breaths.

“How do you know what that feels like?” Steven asks after I Snapchat him.

“BECAUSE. All the women in my family said giving birth felt like really bad menstrual pains!” I say.

And also because I am feeling like something keeps kicking me in my back, stomach, and everything else okay?

I keep breathing in and out.

f541976af9dcdccabe9207410fbbe117“Are you okay? the Uber driver asks.

I stop breathing and Snapchatting pictures of myself in crisis.

“Uh yes sorry. I just have cramps” I say.


She laughs “Oh I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t too hot from the heater.” Yea to make things worse it was 59 degrees in Boston today.

I smile and we drive over several potholes making us bounce and my cramps hurt like hell.


And then “Prince Player” sends me a Snapchat of a very delicious looking salmon and other things and it says “when ur gf turns you into a health nut” or something like that.

Great. I wish I had a boyfriend that turned me into a health nut. Or a boyfriend in general.

Finally I arrive and I am just in time. The epidemiologist is great complimenting my excellent work. I am so honored. As I’m sitting and talk with her, a HORRIBLE cramp comes over me. I smile my biggest smile and cross my legs. That made me cramp up even more. Shit. I uncross and breathe while talking. Why won’t the pain go away???

I keep breathing softly. And eventually the meeting ends. Thank goodness.

I go home.

And as soon as I take my dress and heels off, I collapse on my bed. I play some Maroon 5. My freshman year of college, when I had the worst of cramps like I had today, Adam Levine’s voice would calm me down.

When I get a text, I pause the song. Big mistake. The cramp comes back. I breathe, and quickly put the song on- but it’s too late!

I run to the bathroom and begin puking. With Adam Levine singing in the background.

I cross my heart and I hope to die, that I’ll only stay with you one more night.

Yea. You better leave Aunt Flo.

I collapse on the floor.


My whole Starbucks latte that I had this morning  is out of my system. Note to self. Don’t drink lattes when having a period.

Adam Levine keeps playing in the background. I need to stop it. It gives me freshman year college memories. Of my love life and cramps. Ugh. I turn him off. Although I love him.

I put on other songs by him and go to sleep.

Wondering how I’m going to make it to my big meeting at the State department tomorrow.

Sigh. I am woman. And it still has not gotten easier.

P.S- When I feel better, your letters are coming! I have gotten 5 requests so far, remember to comment below if you want one! 🙂

xoxo. S.

If you’re gonna flirt with me because of my race, take a seat

mindy kalingFor those of my readers who don’t know, I come from a huge Middle Eastern and Indian family. The majority of my family is Indian so I do look more Indian than Arab. But I personally identify more with my Arab roots. And I am proud of both my exotic cultures.

Yesterday when I went shopping with my one of my best friend’s (because of our wonderful snow day), a scene way too familiar happened on the train.

“Y’all Indian?” a guy asked us this the second we got on.

I looked at my best friend, she’s Pakistani. And way more bold than me. I give her a look and we both ignore the comment talking about all of the stuff we’re going to buy. The guy looks at his one of his friend’s and laughs loudly. Whatever.

This kind of stuff happens all the time. Several times, a guy will ask me my name, and they say “Ooooooo Indian huh?” Actually it’s Arabic, so stop flirting and take a seat. Find something besides my race to flirt with me about.

I looked on the Internet for some guidance to deal with things like this. And sadly, I stumbled upon many articles called “Reasons Not to Date Indian Girls”. What. The. Crap!?

I’m gonna comment on a few.

1.) “They’re unattractive”

Get out of here. Have you ever heard of Katrina Kaif? Shraddha Kapoor? And wasn’t last year’s Miss America Indian?

Take a look at this list:

2.) “They’re prudish”

Me? Prude? Don’t think so. Ask my last boyfriend. I think I was too much for him :0

Side note: In general, all girls of any race can be modest (not prude) if they want to be. It’s called morals.

3.) “They loathe their race and want to be white”

I don’t wish to be white, but I do love being American. Some areas of India, especially the one I was born into was poverty stricken. It was a hard lifestyle and I’m glad I’m living here today!

4.) “They are feminists”

I don’t identify myself as a feminist, but I admire the women who are! Yes, when young girls my cousin’s age are getting raped, it makes me sad. When my cousin has to get married at 18 and I get to go to college, it makes me sad.

5.) “They are mental”

Yup I’m mental. I admit it. But not because I’m Indian.

So if you’re flirting with me because I am Indian, or NOT flirting with me because I am Indian, take a seat.

If you don’t like Indian girls, fine. If you do, find something else to comment on. We have beautiful hair, eyes, and other assets. If we like you, then you can start commenting on our Indian beauty- that’s cute. I always called my ex-boyfriend “my sexy Arab man” and he always called me his “hot Indian princess ” 😉 But you better believe he didn’t call me that the night we met!

xoxo. S.

Gossip Hour When You Have Nothing To Say

So I have this friend,

Actually I have these girlfriends. This friend is a part of that group and she and I have made Tuesday date nights a priority because we have more in common than the other girls. She, and all my other girlfriends are the most talkative people you will ever meet.

silenceMe? I prefer writing. I HATE talking. I love silence. So, instead of looking forward to these Tuesday night dinners, I don’t.

Today, was probably the worst. She’s going on and on about her weekend hookup (who just so happens to be with a guy I know and used to look up to). And what do I say? Nothing. I’m in some other world thinking about my failed Chem test and how Heart hasn’t talked to me in almost 2 weeks despite my constantly trying to contact him. Tomorrow is supposed to be the debut of the poem I wrote about him! I don’t feel like releasing it anymore…

What do I do reader? Either things need to get better in my life or I need to improve my social skills.

xoxo. S.

Summer School Blahs: Writing in eyeliner, “taken” men, and other musings!

Happy Friday reader.

You know. My “normal” friends are out having the time of their lives, but science major me is enrolled in two electives over the summer. Easier to do them now than during the school year when I have to take all those crazy science courses :0 (help!).

Anyways, I’m taking “Dance” and “Communications: Public Speaking” at the local community college. Dance is online. It is more of a “dance history” kind of course so it involves a lot of reading and going to performances and critiquing them.

Now Public Speaking on the other hand, is a completely different story. It starts at 8:00 on Monday and Wednesday mornings. It also requires 4 speeches and 3 tests. Yes, this is what the world has come to. #help

This was my first week and let me tell you, it was…interesting. It all started out on Monday, I was one of the first ones there. I took a seat outside the classroom. There was also another student there, some boy my age. He would not take his eyes off of me!! My god that was scary, have you ever had someone that you don’t know just stare at you? Yea. It was wierd. Anyways. The other students started piling in and he started looking at them instead.

The professor finally arrived. She was totally dressed for summer in her sun dress and wedges. Very sassy. I like her.

After the initial intro, she handed out some worksheets for us to fill out. And what do you know. On the first day of school, I forgot a pen. I looked around in my bag and all I got out of it was a tampon and eyeliner. Yea, so um. I filled out the worksheets in eyeliner…What a great first impression! Lukily, I had some money and this college had a convenient store. I went there during break and bought a pen 🙂 I was happy but couldn’t believe I would forget a pen on my first day!! I guess this is karma for making fun of that guy in The “Big O”, pen stealers, new quarter, and other weekly musings! huh? Haha ❤

Fun fact: Did you know that some would rather die than speak in public?

henry fordHaha. After this quote she shared with us, I think I’ll make it 🙂

xoxo. S.