In the past three years, my periods have been off-the-charts painful. I’m talking “screaming in pain,” “feeling like I’m being stabbed as blood flows like in The Shining lift scene” painful, to the point where my periods were affecting my day-to-day life in the premenstrual and menstrual phase. So, with very little help from the United Kingdom’s free, National Health Service (NHS), I had to take matters into my own hands to unf**k my periods and make them less painful. Since your girl doesn’t gate-keep, here’s what’s been working for me so far.
Painful periods: why they matter
I decided to write this post for a few reasons.
My blog posts about periods are some of the most read on this blog, which tells me that too many people know too little about their periods, are struggling to manage pain in the face of medical denials or negligence, have been curious about and are interested in better period health anyway. For instance, I still get a lot of questions about switching from disposable period products to recyclable ones, such as period-proof underwear, so if you want to read my review of my first experience with Modibodi panties and my review after a whole year of making the switch, you can find them via the links in the previous sentence.
When watching BBC Breakfast one morning last month, I came across charity Wellbeing of Women’s periods symptom checker, announced with an interview with a woman whose horrifying symptoms kept being belittled or ignored by the NHS. This has been mirroring my experience: although my symptoms aren’t as bad as hers, I have really struggled to be taken seriously by the NHS when attempting to find solutions to manage my painful periods.
As a result, as some of you may have seen if you watch my Instagram stories, I started taking matters into my own hands and posting little updates about methods I’m trying to unf**k my painful periods. And a lot of you have been replying. So take this blog as a slightly TMI, gory update that I hope will help some of you feel less pain during that time of the month.
This post comes, of course, with a massive trigger warning: periods can be triggering for people for all sorts of reasons, so if you’d rather not read about them I won’t be offended. Just stop here.
Painful periods: my symptoms
This is where things get gross and weird.
First of all, I’d like to take this opportunity to say that even if I identify as a woman, and my gender is the same as the one I was assigned at birth, I don’t see periods as a “beautiful manifestation of my womanhood.” I don’t think bleeding once a month makes me a woman and, in fact, I’d rather not bleed, because I don’t want children and I find periods pretty horrific. The PMS-to-bleeding time of the month is usually the time when I feel myself the least, where I feel the most detached from my body, and where I’d rather not be walking in my own shoes.
I am not squeamish about blood, but I just don’t see myself on my period as truly myself. I don’t feel as strong as I often think I am, I feel physically sick, I immediately start fearing I’ve permanently injured myself, I become paranoid about my relationships and my actions, I sleep poorly and become utterly unreasonable. It’s like a monster has taken control of who I am, and my mental health really takes a hit.
Physically, things during my periods aren’t great either. I sweat more, feel heightened pain with everything I do, because my body is swollen and my skin feels more sensitive – not exactly ideal when bashing your body against a metal pole is a huge part of your day. I’ve had to perform and compete on my period, which greatly affected my movement, my sanity and even my ability to choose costumes (cue: planning for an un-choreographed bloodbath).
In short, periods suck for me. And I don’t want to accept this as the norm, because while I’ve never loved them, they never used to be like this.
According to the Wellbeing of Women’s period checker (a charity whose name I don’t love because women are not the only ones to have a period), my symptoms are consistent with endometriosis and other issues. The period checker automatically collates your form responses into a letter to send to your GP to demand better period care. You can see mine below, which should make it easy to understand that I can’t keep living like this.
With these symptoms, it must be pretty easy to get help from a doctor, right?
Wrong.
For the NHS, the healthcare service I pay for through my taxes, I should accept this and essentially live in pain.
Why I’m not going on birth control
By now, you’ve probably been wondering: “Oh my god Carolina, why don’t you just fucking go on the pill?”
Well, that’s the NHS’s / my GP’s / any sexual health nurse’s fave response. And there’s a reason why my answer is always no.
I was on the pill from the age of 15 until the age of 20, when I had to stop due to how badly it affected my mental health. If PMS gives me anxiety, low mood and paranoia for about a week a month, on the pill I felt like that all year round. The pill also severely affected my eating habits – I’m not lactose intolerant, but I am sensitive to it, and the film surrounding the pill is made of lactose so I had to be extremely careful with what I ate. Birth control also affected my sex drive, which was basically gone even though I’m an extremely horny person (and proudly so). It made pleasure almost impossible, given that studies found the pill reduces genital arousal. And because I’m that unlucky, the overall dryness also gave me monthly cystitis by attrition.
There are, of course, other birth control methods like the coil, the ring or patch. While the latter two are extremely fiddly and not necessarily aesthetically pleasing for someone who hangs upside down from a pole butt-naked, the side effects of the coil also seem pretty scary for someone with chronic UTIs.
I find myself repeating all of this to a doctor every time I try to unf**k my painful periods. Every time, despite my symptoms, nothing changes. I get sent on a loop of blood tests and pelvic scans that are not enough to reveal endometriosis, but never to an actual consultation with a gynaecologist.
So I decided to go private.
Testing to unf**ck my periods
Going private is not accessible for everyone in the UK. More often than not, it’s actually cheaper for me to book a flight to Italy, my home country, and get seen by a private specialist there. Then, at some point in September last year, I read a piece in ELLE magazine about taking control of your hormones that mentioned a company called Hertility.
Hertility largely focuses on hormonal health for people who want to conceive, but it does have an element of taking control of your period. When you sign up to their newsletter, you get £10 off your first test so I ended up paying £139 for a hormone-focused blood test and a sample collection guide call.
Simply signing up already showed me why the NHS don’t take issues with periods seriously. Hertility were adamant that I had to test on day three of my period, that I had to do it making sure I hadn’t eaten for eight hours and that I’d drunk eight cups of water. None of that guidance was ever given to me on the tests that the GP prescribed – they told me to go whenever.
I am one of those people who really struggle to stab their fingers with those at-home tests. I tried once, but the test came back inconclusive because Hertility said I’d squeezed my fingers too hard and the blood had coagulated faster. The second time I just wasn’t able to collect enough blood, so Hertility kindly sent a nurse to my house to take my blood. Their service was kind and impeccable (I’m not being paid for this, it’s not an ad).
Turns out I have high levels of the 17-Beta Oestradiol hormone, which is often linked with heavy and painful periods. Hooray! I’m not crazy! There was something in me that was causing this pain. All it took was testing at the right time to find it.
The test also found that my egg count is on the low end of normal, which means it may be harder for me to have children. That’s not a problem, as my only plan for motherhood is to become the mum of a sausage dog.
So this is currently where things are at. Hertility recommended further internal and external pelvic scans to rule out Poly-Cystic Ovaries Syndrome and other dramas – all done, no issues were found – and to follow this with a consultation with a gynaecologist to discuss my symptoms.
Given that Hertility’s gynaes are very expensive, I’ve gone back to the NHS. It’s taken me a while to convince them to do me a referral, but they’ve agreed and I’m now waiting for that. I will conclude this section by sharing a piece of advice a nurse gave me, which is: if the GP acts all difficult about referring you it’s because it may be cheaper for them to send you back on the testing loop than to a specialist; just ask them to state clearly on your record that they’re denying you a referral. This should scare them off.
So this is what I did. It’s wild to me that I should be threatening or begging a medical professional on the same National Health Services that I pay for through my taxes, but this is the state of the UK’s health sector. In the meantime, here are the practical, non-hormonal hacks I’m trying out to unf**k my periods as I wait.
Supplements to manage PMS
During my free post-results consultation with Hertility, the consultant – who I must say was still a bit too focused on my chances of having babies – recommended trying a supplement called Agnus Castus to manage my PMS symptoms.
Intended for people over 18, Agnus castus – also called Vitex agnus castus – is a shrub originating from the Mediterranean and Central Asia. It’s meant to relieve PMS symptoms such as irritability, mood swings, breast tenderness, bloating and menstrual cramps.
I bought a box of tablets from my local Holland & Barrett without putting my hopes up, but ended up being blown away by the results. As soon as I started to experience the weird cramps that signal PMS, and after looking at my calendar and noticing it was about a week before my periods were due, I started taking one tablet a day every morning.
The results were that I experienced no pre-periods craziness or paranoia, no cramps, no stomach ache or issues with sleep. The only thing that happened was off-the-charts swollen boobs, but since my boobs are usually quite small I can’t really complain.
Agnus castus is something I will now be integrating into my period care and routine, and I really recommend it to anyone dealing with PMS symptoms. It was a game-changer before I was due, and has been a game-changer for the past few months.
Myoovi for managing painful periods
So PMS was sort of sorted… but how about the week of my actual period?
I saw Hertility partner up with Myoovi, a product created by a company founded by doctors with the aim to help people manage their period. Using the 10% off discount given by signing up to their newsletter, I tried their little butterfly belt with their device on top, which I paid £62, attaching it to my belly or to my lower back depending on what gave me more grief after coming on. I found that their device’s tiny pulses work fast and block the pain signals from reaching my brain.
Essentially, for the whole week of my period, I almost felt like I didn’t have a period, and even my usually Overlook Hotel style period flow seemed massively reduced. Myoovi’s little shockwaves really killed my lower back and abdominal pain during the week of my period, and I will be using the device as part of my period care from now on. I’ve been using it for two periods in a row and my hatred for my life during that time of the month has been massively reduced.
Once again, I’m not paid to write this review, but if you want to get yourself a Myoovi, you can use my code at the link below to get 10% off:
Myoovi code: CAROLINA64742
If you’re wondering about how I used my Myoovi, I simply charged it with its USB cable like any phone or vibrator, and then applied the reusable butterfly pad on my skin. I wore comfy clothes on top and largely wore it while chilling at home, but it’s really discreet and can go under your clothes if you’re going out. You can use the device for hours on end, but I preferred not sleeping with it and just used it while I was awake.
After my first stories about their little machine, Myoovi gifted me their supplements to improve my mood and hormonal health, but I must say that I didn’t find them as ground-breaking as their machine or as Agnus Castus.
Next steps
I’m still waiting on the gynae referral and I will let you know if it does result in an endometriosis diagnosis. But for now, I’m very happy with the fairly natural, non-hormonal hacks I’ve been trying to unf**k my painful periods. I’ve been told by other folks with endo that Myoovi has been a life-saver for them (although one person also told me it didn’t help), so it’s definitely worth a try as it’s cheaper than a private gynae consultation.
I’ve also come to realise that lot of my discomfort, dysmorphia and hate towards periods are partly due to the hassle and pain of period products. As you’ve read before, I have now fully ditched disposable pads in favour of period proof underwear, which has already massively improved my experience. However, tampons remain an unwelcome addition to my life when I need to perform, when I’m on the beach or just wanna wear nice underwear.
I find any internal periods product extremely painful, which is why cups so far hadn’t worked for me. Now though, after Canadian menstrual cup brand Nixit got in touch to see if I wanted to try out their cups, free of the often irritating and/or painful stem most cups have and made with medical grade, BPA-free silicone, I am experimenting to see if this solution helps mitigating the horrors of period week. Already, the experience of wearing something internally was less horrifying so I am attempting to ditch tampons too in favour of their much more comfortable cup, which I wore during training and could barely feel. This is, again, not an ad, but if you find normal cups painful and want to try Nixit, you can use my link and the code BLOGGERONPOLE to try one with an extra 15% discount.
Final considerations
If you got through the literal blood, sweat and tears of this blog, well done! Before I finish though, it’s worth mentioning a few things beyond the privilege of having been able to pay for / receive some of these services and products.
A lot of what I’ve been able to do has been due to tracking of my periods and PMS symptoms via initially my iPhone health hub, and then through Hertility itself. Hertility is based in the UK and seems like a non-evil company, but in the age of surveillance capitalism and in a Trump 2.0 world, it’s not 100% safe for people to share their cycle data with Big Tech. I made this temporary compromise to understand what was up with me, also knowing that it’s still ok to get abortions in the UK if I were to need one. But be very careful before making the decision to track this way.
Secondly, Hertility tests found that the hormone I had high levels of is also influenced by alcohol consumption. I’m not a big drinker but I definitely did drink more than I wanted to in December due to my and my partner’s birthday, Christmas parties and the like. And after doing Dry January I noticed how big an influence alcohol has on the worst of my cycle symptoms and particularly my feelings of paranoia. So that’s another thing to be mindful of in the attempt to unf**k my period: I’ll also be drinking way less.
Hope this post has given you some hope and some direction. I have definitely been feeling less hopeless since testing and trying these hacks!
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