My bleeds have been *totally* unpredictable recently, so I shouldn't have been surprised by one starting, without warning, on Saturday.  But, of course, I was caught out  (sigh)  and already out of bed before I realised I was bleeding on the carpet.  This was a real gusher.  Having had a bout of prolonged and heavy bleeds for the first half of this year, I recognised a "heavy" and resigned myself to a grumpy and bloody week ahead.  By Sunday it was apparent that this was going to be my heaviest bleed yet, and it crossed my mind (as usual) that I ought to visit the doctor again sometime to get checked out.  I never actually go and see him about bleeding any more, though maybe I should.

This morning I woke with that enforced stillness many of us bleeders must recognise.  The moment you move, no matter how much you've padded the night before, the flow will get by the barriers and onto the bedding ... so all movements have to be well thought out.  There's that first swift and agile single motion of grabbing the old towel you placed by the bed, whilst simultaneous lifting your behind off the mattress, and a follow through rapid pull-the-towel-under movement.  A fine art.  So this morning I went through these contortions and rushed to the bathroom in my giant towel nappy .... and  ....  Nothing.  Not a drop.  Not even a bit of NGBS [c. Frederica].

Two days of bleeding heavier than I've *ever* experienced and then  ... Nothing.  This is the strangest "period" I've ever had, I think.  So, go on, indulge me ..... what's the most unusual and/or memorable bleed you've ever had ? (silver)
 

NGBS = Nasty Gooey Brown Stuff

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Two days of bleeding heavier than I've *ever* experienced and then  ... Nothing.

This is the strangest "period" I've ever had, I think.  So, go on, indulge me ..... what's the most unusual and/or memorable bleed you've ever had ?

I packed "enough" feminine hygiene supplies ... I thought ... and drove the two hours to the park, and when I got out of the car I felt a great, well, "whoosh" and realized I'd better get to the restroom. For the next five hours, I ran in and out of the women's room, changing pads and things every 30 minutes or so and -- when I ran out of those -- using great wwads of that coarse brown paper towelling they have at those places. 

All the while, working with a very nice man from the state parks office who seemed fairly concerned at my well-being. (If it were today, I'd probably just tell him what was going on; at the time, I was half humiliated and half in fear of hemorrhage.)

Once we were done, I high-tailed it to the nearest supermarket and bought the heaviest pads I could find, found a public restroom, cleaned up and drove home, probably breaking all speed limits... and *still* wound up with bloodstains on the car seat.

Oh, and it was storming out, too.

I bled at that rate for nearly two weeks, and at a slower trickle for many days afterward. *And* had my first experience with the chicken-liver clots. 

Nothing since has been half so dramatic, thank heavens (and knock wood). (--Pat Kight [email protected])

It started on September 27, 1997 at 11 am on a Saturday morning!  I'd missed a month for the first time in many years.  On the Friday I had flown to Lithuania to join the then 'love of my life'.  Until then, we hadn't had an opportunity to sleep together, well not for 26 years.  He'd issued a dinner invitation, meet me in the ******** Hotel Bar, Vilnius any evening.

So, I went. A more romantic place you can't imagine or a steamier encounter. 

Next morning, we were walking around town when I felt a rush of fluid. I'd dismissed the slight cramps as being the result of unusual exercise, ahem! The only public bog I could find was in McDonalds. And there it was, a puddle surrounding a chicken liver on my new lacy knickers. 

It lasted until the day I left 8 days later. After one day's respite, it started up again, this time the flow was pink and watery but continued for another week. And so the horrible saga started, welcomed in by too much hanky panky and a great deal of Latvian champagne!

Well you *did* ask <G> (Jo)

I guess my most memorable bleed was the one that cut loose, around the tampon and past the pad, while I was standing out on the street being block-captainly. I made it inside without leaving an embarrassing trail on the sidewalk. Standing in the vestibule, which has the only tiled floor in an otherwise wall-to-wall carpeted place, I shouted up the stairs for my husband to bring a towel Right Now. Why?--he wanted to know. Just do it, I shouted back. 

Now, up till this time I think he had a secret suspicion I was making all this up...but when I lifted my skirt and he saw that I was red clear down to the knees plus associated trickles, he turned pale and sprinted for the phone to call 911. It was only with great difficulty that I persuaded him to put down the phone.

An hour later I was back down to a trickle. Go figure. But this is the reason I suggest that folks in our situation bleed on our nearest and dearest (metaphorically speaking) at least once. It gets their attention and their respect. (Laura [email protected])

Well, there's no precise medical definition for flooding, although most of us reserve it for those times when the quantity of bleeding is so extreme that it makes it difficult to function - as in, "I can't be more than a few feet away from the bathroom because I'm bleeding through two tampons, a maxi-pad and my jeans every half hour." But you be the judge - heck, if it feels like a flood to you, feel free to call it that.

What I'm experiencing now is this. It seems like I have where theres a gush--seems like its usually at night or have had a few times during the day. It doesn't last that long and then it goes light again and then the cycle begins again. I wouldn't say this is flooding but enough for me to be concerned about. I'm not one to be running to a doctor all the time either. Also, the blood is pretty watery and I've seen that note on this board also. Of course at times when its heavy I have the "chicken livers" as you ladies call them. I just got through changing a bed and putting my attire in the wash machine and taking a bath but like I said this isn't ANYTHING like I went through in September.

My concerns are these: [snip valid insurance concerns] 
How long do I continue this of turning the faucet on and off for before I should really becoming concerned and call my doctor. I start the progesterone again on the first which should stop it then if it hasn't but not even sure on that now as I got this period while on it.

It *is* important - if only for your peace of mind - to know that nothing pathological is going on. Although what you describe sounds absolutely normal to those of us who've experienced similar things, we're not doctors, and can't tell you, "Oh, don't worry about it." Your own doctor may be able to do that, though. If this was very continuous hard bleeding all the time I would be very very concerned but this isn't. It comes and goes and doesn't really last. In fact if I was more brainy and wore a pad along with my super plus tampon I wouldn't be washing sheets and mattress pads etc.

Do that. Many of us got in the habit of using two super-plus tampons at once, along with a super-maxi-mattress pad, and still had to change every hour. You might also consider acquiring some dark-red towels and taking them to bed with you to catch leakage (and wrap around you while you're running to the bathroom - I *hated* it when I dripped all over the rug en route). Heck, I changed to purple sheets when the floods were at their height (and I'm really, really glad I sleep on a water bed - I've thrown out a few mattress pads, but at least the mattress itself doesn't look like someone butchered a cow on it!) 

I guess I"m going to be going through this and have done some reading from sites that I have picked up from you guys but soooooo confused still. How many years to go through this garbage is the average? Think I read like 7 years. I can't imagine dealing with this for 7 years.

Case in point: I flooded like crazy for six months in 1998, but haven't experienced anything like that since (although I did have a bit of a mini-flood last month, which subsided right about the time I finally went to my doctor, naturally). Later on, I suffered from miserable insomnia - which also hung around for about six months and then vanished. Things come and go (and some lucky few breeze through it all with nothing but an occasional "Is it warm in here, or is it me?" We don't hear from many of them in this newsgroup, but heck, why would they bother looking for support?) 

There's a reason our mothers' generation called this "the change." It *is* a time of change and transition, for our bodies and souls, and once you accept that unpredictability is likely to be part of your life for a while, it becomes easier to cope. 

Hubby and I suppose to go away to ocean for weekend and take the boat which is open bow with no bathroom etc. At this point not sure if I should go or not. It's my birthday on Saturday. 

My mom once told me that any woman worth the name could manage a complete change of clothing, from the underwear up, while riding in the front seat of an automobile - and do so without revealing enough to cause her the slightest embarrassment. Heck, if we can manage that, changing pads on an open-bowed boat should be a snap! (Me, I'd probably take my long rain poncho, slip it over my neck and use it as a portable changing room.) 
Pat Kight

How does one accomplish maintaining a full time job while going through these flash flood bleeding episodes, periods whenever they feel like coming, and everything else associated with this perimenopause(sp) phase?  Please tell me how you got around this particularly if your job involves being on your feet most of the time and being in and out of meetings?  All tips are welcome.

• Keep feminine supplies everywhere. Desk, briefcase, glove compartment. I have a couple of oversized jackets with roomy pockets. I wore them a lot, because I never wanted to be more than a few feet from emergency supplies, including the largest, longest, most absorbent pads I could lay hands on (which I personally used with super-absorbent tampons, sometimes worn two at a time.)
• Wear at least panty-liner weight pads all the time, in case of sudden onset.
• Ditto clean underwear. I kept a couple pair stashed in my desk just in case. And forget dainty little undies or (heaven forbid) thongs -- get several pair of good-fitting, all-cotton `grandma underpants for the duration.
• (Someone here suggested wearing Depends on especially heavy days. Now that I think of it, not a bad idea...)
• I dressed in darker versions of my usual clothing (loose calf- or ankle-length skirts, and under-dressed with cotton-lycra tights or leggings. With regular nylons (which I hate anyway) a down-the-legs flood quickly becomes public humiliation. The leggings at least soak it up more or less invisibly. On at least one occasion, I wound up hand washing my leggings in the women's room and stashing them in a plastic wastebasket liner until time to go home. The long skirts more or less concealed the fact that I was suddenly bare-legged. 
• Forget slacks. Everything soaks through almost instantly. Skirts are much more concealing. I usually wear oversized, untucked tops , long enough to help conceal any accidents. (It strikes me that the outfit I'm describing here is not terribly different from what women in many parts of the world -- the middle east -- wear all the time. Hm.)
• For a while, I kept a small, dark hand-towel folded on the seat of my office chair, just in case.
• In meetings, I simply chose a seat nearest the door, scouted the closest restroom, and quietly slipped out when I needed to. The one time someone asked what was going on, I told him. 
• During a couple of especially bad stretches, I arranged to work at home. I'm fortunate that my job permits this and that I have an understanding boss who occasionally needs to work at home so he can care for his 4-year-old.
• I also used up all of my sick leave for the first time in my working career.
• Finally -- don't try to keep everything a secret from the people you work with. No need to be graphic (unless they accuse you of malingering; I've found a nice, brief description of a clotty flood can put an end to  that  pretty quickly), but if your co-workers know what's going on, they may be more sympathetic than you think. 

Later, I returned to teaching and did much the same as the other posters here. By then the bleeding was sort of under control and the major outpourings were when I got out of bed. I will admit that the overall 'features' have made me rethink the importance of full-time work, career and money in the scheme of things and I now place them very low. Yes, it means living on a low income but I quite enjoy the challenge. 

Jo