I had the worst period cramps of my life two nights ago. I put my half-eaten dinner away and rolled into a ball on the couch, burrowed under a pile of blankets, my uterus like a warm ball of fire burning me from inside.
"Hgnnnnnn, I'm dying." I rarely get period cramps. Maybe once in a blue moon. Maybe once in a blood moon.
My husband asks, "What do you want to watch?"
"Well, do you want some chocolate? Maybe that'll make you feel better."
I weakly extend my arm from my blanket fortress for a piece of chocolate. I bite it in half. It melts slowly in my mouth. Yummmmmm..... It's exceptionally good in this moment.
"This is good," I say. "It's soothing my soul."
I pop the other half into my mouth. My mouth is chocolate. I have a chocolate finger too.
The uterus squeeze subsides. Like magic. Like a miracle. Like, honestly, I seriously feel a 100 percent better.
"Wait, I feel better already." I sit up.
"Here, have another piece. It's good, right?"
I take another piece of chocolate, swirl it in my mouth. Feel it coat my throat. Rise up to greet the world. Do a headstand. Just kidding, I don't do a headstand.
That's never happened before. That was so cliche. I'm like the woman in pink pajamas with a heat pack on her tummy and cookies strewn haphazardly all over the bed, whining about how it's that time of the month.
I just got healed of my period cramps by two pieces of chocolate.
"Want another piece? There's two left," my husband offers.
"No thanks. I'm fully healed."
"Hallelujah. Praise Dars."