Period Horror Stories: Tales of Bloodshed

Although touchy topics such as impotence and masturbation are no longer considered unmentionables thanks to television, the subject of menstruation is still deemed taboo. "Early on, we're taught to be embarrassed about this natural bodily function," notes Hilda Hutcherson, MD, an assistant professor of clinical obstetrics and gynecology and author of What Your Mother Never Told You about Sex. "Menstruation is viewed in a negative light ‑- it's called 'the curse' or 'on the rag' ‑- even though menstrual periods are natural, normal and a sign of health."

Since there's almost an unspoken code that you don't dish about your period ‑- especially if something truly embarrassing has happened ‑- you may think you're the only one who's dealt with a mortifying menstrual moment. But after reading the following real women's stories, you'll know you're not alone when it comes to coping with a period-related disaster.

It's a Dirty Job
"I was at a business meeting with a client. I was at the end of my period, so I (a supersize girl) was wearing a regular-size tampon. At a break in the meeting, I went into the bathroom and discovered I'd had a final surge of blood that my tampon just couldn't absorb. I bled all over my underwear and right through my pants! I couldn't just ditch my client, so I freaked out. I took off my pants and underwear and tried to perform some personal hygiene triage. Thank God I had an extra tampon in my bag. I put my pants back on and exited the stall with my bloody panties in hand. I had to dump my underwear in the bathroom trash can and try to wash the outside of my pants while worrying that someone would walk in. Luckily, I had worn dark pants and a longish shirt. Suffice it to say, I could not concentrate on anything for the rest of the meeting. All I wanted was to get out of there so I could head home to clean off."
--Melinda Simmons, 37

Never Date a Clean Freak
"My periods usually last five days, but just to be safe, I waited until the seventh day before having sex with a guy I'd been dating. He got on top of me, and we went to it with gusto until, mid-thrust, he noticed his penis was covered in blood. We were on really expensive 300-thread-count sheets. What's more, his cleaning lady does his laundry, so the thought of leaving bloody sheets for her to find mortified him. So he did what any true gentleman would and lifted up my legs, then walked me off the bed and across the room in reverse wheelbarrow position. All this so I wouldn't drip on anything. I just laughed the entire way."
--Terry Sullivan*, 31

Why Women Take So Long in Bathrooms
"I wasn't supposed to get my period for at least another 10 days, but it came early ‑- on the day my boyfriend and I had planned to go on a romantic one-day getaway to the beach. Needless to say, getting my period that morning was annoying, but I was certain it wouldn't be that big a deal. So, along with my beach towel, bathing suit and sunscreen, I packed the necessary toiletries and decided to make the best of it. It took us an hour and a half to get to the beach. I'd been laying out for about 30 minutes when I started to sense that my tampon might not be holding in everything that it should. I whispered to my boyfriend that I had to make a run for the girls' room. By the time I made it, blood had soaked through my tampon and all over my brand-new cream-colored bathing suit. I changed my tampon and decided the only thing I could do was wash out my suit. So I reluctantly made my way out of the stall with only my top on and got to work scrubbing my bloody bikini bottoms in the sink. Those were some of the longest minutes of my life. Miraculously, I managed to wash out all signs of blood with cold water and soap. I put the bottoms back on, headed back to my towel and hoped no one wondered why my bikini bottoms were soaking wet while the rest of me was completely dry!"
--Reilly Martin, 33

Good Clean Fun
"When I was 19, I came home from college and stayed the night at my boyfriend's house. His parents were sleeping, and we wanted to have sex. We decided to do it as far away from their bedroom as possible: in the downstairs bathroom, which had no windows. The bathroom, which was completely white, was too glaring and bright, so we turned off the lights, which made it completely black, but also sort of fun. Like any sexually healthy and experimental college kids, we had sex on the floor, the (closed) toilet, the sink ‑- on every surface in the bathroom. Then I became conscious of how unusually wet things felt. When we turned on the lights, it looked like a scene from a horror movie. There was blood everywhere! It was gory. My boyfriend and I spent the next hour scrubbing the entire bathroom clean."
--Hannah Hendricks, 30

Two's a Crowd
"I was a freshman in college and between periods at the time. I started to smell this awful odor and realized it was coming from my vagina. I didn't know what was going on and was a little horrified. To make matters worse, I also had this brownish, creamy-colored discharge, so I kept putting in a tampon to absorb it. It was really embarrassing because I was sleeping with someone at the time. Luckily, I'd been with him for a while, so he wasn't freaked out or anything. I finally got worried enough to go to the campus health center. After an exam, the gynecologist told me that there was an old tampon inside me that'd been stuck up there for weeks, which is what accounted for the smell. Hello, toxic shock syndrome. Once she removed it, everything ‑- thank God ‑- was fine. When I told my friends what had happened, they admitted that they had started to smell it too! I thought, How did I not feel the first tampon when I put the second one in? To this day, I'm paranoid about making sure I've only got one in."
--Lisa Lopez, 31

Would You Like to See My Collection?
"The first time I got my period, I crept into my older sister's bedroom to tell her. As a tomboy, I was not pleased that I'd become a woman. And neither was my sister. Two years older than me, she still hadn't gotten her period and was furious that I could get mine first. She called me a liar and told me to get out of her room. Afraid I'd get the same reaction from my parents, I tried to keep it a secret. My mom, an absolute neat freak, kept one trash basket in the entire house ‑- underneath the kitchen sink. Unfortunately, the bathroom was at the other end of the house. So every time I had to change my pad, I'd go into the bathroom, roll it in a wad of toilet paper, stick it under my shirt and hide it in my desk drawer. The used pads sat there for days, filling up the drawer. One day, while I was in the other room, my dad decided to play Mr. Fix-It and repair the broken handle on my desk drawer. He called me into my room and hissed at me through clenched teeth, 'What is wrong with you, Julia Peters? I don't ever want to see you do something like this again!' And there they were, all dumped out on my carpet. I don't know who was more mortified."
--Julia Peters, 31

* Some names have been changed