You think by now I would be able to recognise PMS for what it is. I mean it’s been happening every month for quite some time. But every month I spend a day wondering why I feel extra stress and emotional. Then I spend a couple of days wondering why I want to scoff all the bread and cakes I can manage. Then I spend a day wondering why I have an absolutely splitting headache. Then I can spend up to two weeks wondering why my breasts are really really sore. Then I wonder why I feel all bloated for a few days. And then the pains arrive and it usually takes me half an hour to work out what this somewhat familiar feeling is. Then I have a lightbulb moment, swear quietly under my breath and try and get on with the day. Since the grand ovarian cyst debacle and surgery of late 2010 (and I refer you to some posts from July, August, September of that year if you are new to The Spiralling Shape) these symptoms have become quite ad hoc, a little bit random and often arrive at surprising moments (early, late, in their own good time). Today is one of those ad hoc days.
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