You know that saying, “the moment you stop looking, you’ll find it?” No, this isn’t good news about the arrival of my period By the by, why do we call it “Aunt Flo” or is it with a w? I mean, I don’t have an aunt named Florence, but if I did it might be really confusing.
As I hit CD40, I called my doctor’s office – and they are really quite amazing (seriously, they’re so incredibly nice and patient). I left a message for the nurse and got a call back explaining that it can take up to three weeks since the LAST day of taking provera. As a matter of fact, I can’t call them back until October 13th without sounding like a crazy person. Yeah, you heard that right. My period has 15 more days to show up. FIFTEEN DAYS.
No, I’m not obsessing. This is me, not obsessing. I have, in an attempt at sanity, put away the tampon box. I thought – y’know – build it and it will come. I’m wearing fancy panties (the ones you would never ever wear if it was about to be time for a period). I’m totes playing it cool. Sort of.