What kind of reaction should I have shown?
Should I have screamed like in a cheap novel? Or should I have accepted the reality with unexpected calmness? Should I have cried like a tragic protagonist? Should I deny reality and go crazy? Or maybe throw up because I couldn’t handle the bloody smell with my weak stomach?
No matter what kind of reaction I showed, it wouldn’t have been strange.
Menstruation. Period. The monthly visitor.
Whatever you call it, it wasn’t anything special.
Wasn’t my first period called menarche?
I was someone who inserted sexual metaphors in writing. Therefore, I was certainly not ignorant enough to be overly excited about something like this.
That’s why my reaction was neither amusing nor impressive. It was ordinary.
I tried to react normally.
I was just annoyed.
The wet, uncomfortable, disgusting sensation, the unpleasant feeling as if I had wet myself, the smell of blood, dealing with blood-soaked blankets and clothes—all of it was irritating, so there was nothing I could do about it.
At the same time, I understood the pain that had lingered in my lower abdomen over the past few days and the emotions that had been bouncing around, fluctuating conditions, and that foolish self-pity that I couldn’t control.
Experiencing what I had only heard in stories was almost fascinating. There are tales about not bothering women when they are menstruating, how their hysteria becomes more severe, how they become emotional and sharp.
In the past, I thought that was really pathetic. If it were an excuse, I would have thought it was a truly disgraceful story, but regardless, there were so many cases that I found it hard to deny it all.
Seeing myself bleeding from my thighs now felt like a ridiculous comedy. Considering the disgraceful scenes I had shown over the past few days, I realized I no longer had the right to mock those women.
With irritation came the initial worry of how to deal with this, and then a memory from the past surfaced.
Back in college, something like that happened.
The feminist club had plastered all the men’s restrooms with red-painted sanitary pads.
On the attached notes, they had written that men being unaware of the price and usage of sanitary pads was misogyny—a truly nonsensical statement that left most other women at a loss for words.
When I first saw it, it was an extremely unpleasant feeling, but later on, it was somewhat amusing.
Generally, their silliness and absurdity were merely a reaffirmation of my own discomfort. I wasn’t necessarily fighting against them, so their foolishness wasn’t something that brought me joy. I was just angry at the sight of their stupidity.
This incident ended with all the sanitary pads being torn down and thrown into the trash, which was a natural outcome. The club that staged this event posted notices claiming that defacing them was misogyny and vandalism, but the person who took those pads down and threw them away was none other than the cleaning lady.
Watching that farce unfold in real-time, I couldn’t help but suppress a laugh, no matter who I was.
It may be a long digression, but I couldn’t help but recall that incident. The memory of how I had laughed at it for so long became necessary for me now.
Using a sanitary pad…
I didn’t even know the types of sanitary pads, let alone how to use one. It was natural since I had never used one in my life and never thought there would come a time when I would need to. Plus, I didn’t have any pads on hand right now either.
I knew there was something called a tampon, which was inserted into the vagina, but since I would never stick anything inside me, that was irrelevant.
A sigh escaped me.
I wanted to wash up. Should I wash up? Is it okay to take a shower while menstruating? I was certainly careful earlier to say that I wasn’t completely clueless about menstruation, but in the end, I was still male. My knowledge only reached the level of vague symbols in novels.
I knew about the hysteria and emotional changes that menstruation brought, about the physical changes, the perceptions and treatments in various cultures, and the mythical symbols and meanings—but when it came to simple everyday issues like whether it’s okay to shower during menstruation, I didn’t know anything at all.
Fortunately, when I searched on my smartphone, I found no mention of not being able to shower during menstruation. In fact, it said I should definitely take a shower.
While bleeding, it didn’t feel like it at all, but I nonetheless referred to myself in such expressions and threw my blood-soaked underwear and pants into the bathroom.
Watching something red flowing beneath me with the water was truly a torment. It only made me feel like I was pouring out something disgusting. After washing up and exiting the bathroom, I had another problem with my underwear.
Of course, I couldn’t wear my underwear in this state, so I ended up stuffing a bunch of tissues in and wearing the underwear anyway. This would have to do for now.
Fortunately, compared to the agony that had tormented me for almost a month, it didn’t seem like the menstrual pain was that severe. However, even though I wasn’t an expert, feeling that menstrual pain could last a month seemed a bit odd.
It felt different from what I had imagined. For now, it was more of an uncomfortable and damp feeling rather than a constant flow of blood.
In the first place, it was correct that a man like me would never seriously ponder or research how a woman feels when she menstruates. I had never specifically imagined it. I just vaguely thought it must feel like something. But I was completely wrong.
As I sorted out the situation, the irritation from earlier subsided a bit. Rather, I felt a sense of calm as if this gloom that had tormented me until now finally had a reason.
But I couldn’t just sit still. I should probably buy… some sanitary pads. However, I absolutely did not want to buy them at the convenience store right in front of my house. It was only natural, considering the time an employee had filmed me and posted it online. I didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if it became known that I bought sanitary pads. What about a supermarket?
But the fact remained that anywhere I went, someone could take a picture of me. If my image of buying sanitary pads ended up online, I could have killed myself.
Yet, I didn’t want to ask someone else for help. I’d rather hang myself. I didn’t want to let anyone, even my acquaintance, know about this. Not even the women, Ham Yejin or Muk Ha-neul. In the midst of this, a thought struck me.
I had completely forgotten about it for a long time, but the hospital had told me to contact them if something happened to my body. I didn’t know if this qualified as something to call about, but still, I thought I should call just in case.
It wasn’t easy to do something alone right now, and if I needed help from someone, it’d be better to call the hospital.
The precautions the hospital had given me contained the doctor’s phone number. It wasn’t a hospital number but a direct line to the doctor. After a bit of pondering, I finally made the call. After a brief wait, my call went through to the doctor.
The doctor’s reaction was unexpected.
Since this was my first time calling, perhaps there was some concern. My situation had come up a few times, so the doctor probably knew about it. When I conveyed that it seemed I had started my period, the doctor’s tone changed.
After I relayed the situation, the doctor told me to come to the hospital right away. Although there wasn’t a particular problem, starting menstruation could lead to various changes and issues, so they wanted to examine me.
It was a reasonable response. I agreed and hung up.
If I went to the hospital, I could probably get some sanitary pads there too. That was a good thing. Of course, if I go, Ham Yejin might also be separately informed, but Ham Yejin wasn’t the type to casually mention something I wouldn’t want to hear in front of me. I had to compromise to this extent.
Still, at least for today, I needed to end this without anyone knowing.
However, even before going out, a problem arose.
…I had no clothes.
Naturally, all I had were pants, all of them, all of them, just pants. Yet, I was supposed to wear pants while bleeding with tissues stuffed into my underwear? I hated wearing a skirt, but wearing pants soaked in blood that made my butt obvious to everyone was even worse.
It was a terrible situation, but I had no choice but to compromise. Wearing pants was madness. The problem was, as I mentioned, I didn’t have a skirt either. Deciding to wear a skirt wouldn’t magically conjure up one.
Was I really expected to go out like this in front of others? I couldn’t do that; I didn’t want to do that, so I was anxiously pacing back and forth.
Just then, a saving grace came from outside.
The doorbell rang.
Who could it be? My face tightened slightly. If it were an acquaintance, I wouldn’t want to be seen in this situation at all. However, when I checked through the intercom, the person outside was thankfully someone I knew, though not very well.
It was Ham Yejin’s aide who had previously brought the box.
“Are you there? I brought the box you left behind.”
…A somewhat, good, no, not bad, no, actually the least bad thought came to mind.
The box was large and heavy. Ham Yejin must have told him to bring it inside. I picked up the blood-stained blanket that I had thrown in one corner and wrapped it around me. Then, I opened the door.
“Yes, thank you….”
As the door opened, my eyes met the man’s. The natural silence that followed must have been greatly influenced by the fact that I was wrapped in a blood-soaked blanket.
“Please come in.”
“…Yes.”
Still, the other person was a professional. It was obvious that he was flustered, yet he handed me the box without asking anything. The man who moved the box into the room said with a feigned calm expression,
“…Well, I’ll be on my way now.”
“Wait a moment.”
“Yes?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“…What favor?”
“Although you might have guessed from seeing my appearance…”
I slightly elongated the end of my words.
“Yes, well, unless there’s been a murder, um… in any case, it must be that, right?”
“I need to go to the hospital now, but the situation is a bit difficult, so I was wondering if you could help.”
The man fell silent. Of course, he was Ham Yejin’s aide, and he had no obligation to help me. But, a request from an acquaintance of his employer was something that would be difficult to refuse for an employee.
With a slightly grim expression, the man rolled his eyes, sighed, and opened his mouth.
“Okay, well… how can I help?”
“…Could you bring me some sanitary pads?”
Thank you.
I really meant it.
