“thyroid normal, B12 normal, so no problems there”
“However, you are considered menopausal if the FSH level is above 30..and yours is 99”
“Oh right so that’s a yes then”
99, fucking 99, it’s meaningless to me.
“Er, what exactly does 99 mean?”
“It means your pituitary is flogging your ovaries to death trying to get them to ovulate”
Inward image: ovaries lying in flogged heap refusing to get up saying “fuck off! You tip that toxic blue shit in for months then expect to get a rise from us? You can forget it”
Snow falls fast through the orange glow, tear stained tracks wind into the dark.
Nauseous taxi ride home with no solid ground, I drift away, distracted from rushing slippery gloom.
In my mind I’m fucking you on the floor, desperation and anger, unholy fragments of pain and desire, not careful or cautious, driven loss looms overhead weighted like the clouds.
Cafe comfort with random spillages and restless rhetoric
“What I need is rough sex and a holiday, any order, mind you don’t know who’d have me now I’m gonadless?
“You’re still cute though”
“Yeah cute and balding”
“Doesn’t show you know, ‘sept a bit at the back”
“No I don’t mean there”
” oh right..really”
“Yeah nearer the gonads”
May result in gonadal failure- years back I thought gonads was only a bloke thing, you know, loins for girding, all on the outside, vulnerable where you can see them, see them working or not, kick them if need be. Ovaries, you can feel them, feel them working but not really see them.
All in my mind, I see you, curve and sweat and breath, some place oceanic I was lost in and lost in and lost in anenomes and water pulsating with me.
Sometimes all I’m left with is the facts of it, I’m here you’re gone, we both hurt, thyroid normal FSH 99.