That Time of the Month

A new girl every night, but that’s the life that comes when you’re Jacoby Shaddix. Don’t get me wrong I love my wife, but a guy has his needs you know? This night’s girl was already asleep. Lying face down with the hotel covers pulled up to her hips, exposing her naked back. I already knew what her front looked like, but I really didn’t care at the moment. I had already had my fill of her. She’d be gone in the morning.

I rolled over towards the nightstand where I had left my cigarette carton and popped one in my mouth. Lighting it and taking a deep drag, I felt my lungs sear with the toxic relief that I had become accustomed to. Just as I let the swirling smoke drift out into the room around me, I felt it. I lifted up the covers and looked between my legs at the seeping red. “Shit!” I said hopping out of bed. “Shit shit shit shit shit!” Lucky my suitcase was close by. I grabbed my savior toiletry bag and searched for a fresh pair of underwear. I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, knowing that the noise would probably wake the girl.

I hopped into the shower and turned on the water. I hissed through my teeth as the freezing water hit my chest. I looked at my feet and watched the red water swirl around and disappear down the drain. There was a knock, “Hey Jacoby, you okay babe?” the girl’s muffled voice asked from behind the door. “Uh, yeah I’m fine, just fine. Go back to sleep.” I replied. “Are you sure, because there’s a stain on the sheets that looks like blood. There’s a lot of it, did you cut yourself?” “I said go back to sleep, I’m fine!” I shouted. There was a long pause after my outburst before I heard from her again. “Okay, I’ll call front desk for new sheets.” I didn’t bother responding.

I still remember the first time this happened. I was twelve. My Dad had told me that puberty had its ups and down, but it changed my life completely. I woke up that Thursday morning feeling a little strange. Upon pulling my bare feet out from under my comforter and sitting up, I realized that the crotch of my dark red pajama bottoms were sticking to the sides of my legs. I looked at the crotch of my pajamas and noticed that that area was slightly darker than the rest of the red fabric.

Still confused, I grabbed some fresh clothes and made my way down the hall towards our bathroom. I passed my mom along the way with the laundry basket in hand to collect my sheets and clothes for the wash. I locked the bathroom door and stripped off my pajamas. Examining the spot closer, I saw what looked like blood. Panicking, I screamed for my mom and unlocked the door. She arrived within seconds.

Normally, I would have been embarrassed for my mom to walk in while I was naked but I was scared shitless. Mom must have had some clue to what I was screaming about because she ran in with my bloody bed sheet in hand. Her mouth was agape with concern. I showed her my pajamas and I saw her look change from concern to question. She made me get into the shower and clean myself up. I felt disgusting.

While I was in the shower it happened again. It was coming from my…um… private area. Mom had put my sheets in the wash and came back upstairs to tell me that she was taking me to the hospital. I got out of the shower and dried myself off. I was just about to pull my underwear up when something in yellow wrapping slid under the door frame towards me. “Put it inside your underwear. It will catch everything until we get to the hospital.” I realized what the rectangular object was. It was a pad. I had seen Mom buy them a dozen times before and it was embarrassing for me to realize that I had to wear it. Sighing, I put it on and finished getting dressed. Mom was just putting on her coat as I made my way down the stairs and into the passenger seat of the car.

It was a twenty-minute drive to the hospital but it felt like forever. During the entire ride, no one spoke. Mom just kept her eye on the road. That was when I realized that Mom didn’t call my Dad at all today. You would think that she would want him to know that their son had something wrong with him. We arrived at the hospital and there was a man who standing outside the hospital. He looked like he was waiting for someone, the only problem was that this man was wearing a white coat and he seemed a little too relieved when out car came into his sight.

Mom pulled up to small booth and got a small slip of paper that said what time we had arrived. When we left, I knew that we had to show it to the guy in the booth and he would charge us according to the time lapse. She parked and we got out of the car and started towards the hospital. Another man, this one wearing scrubs, had showed up now pushing a wheelchair. The doctor made a motion for me to take a sit in the chair. I was confused but I sat down and was wheeled into the emergency wing.

The doctor took the pad that I had just used from me to run some tests, but the nurse came and brought me a new one. I was given an ultrasound and a MRI. All that time, no one came to talk to me or reassure me. Mom wasn’t even waiting outside while I was getting the tests. When I was being wheeled from room to room, I could see concerned parents and family members waiting outside labeled rooms or anxiously waiting in the waiting room. But everywhere I went Mom wasn’t there.

I was brought into a private room. How my parents could afford a private room, I had no clue, but once again I was left alone. I was feeling a little better than I had when I woke up that morning, but there was a slight panic that still remained from not knowing what was wrong with me. There was a small window set in the door where I could look out into the rest of the hospital. I saw my Mom and Dad standing in the furthest corner away from my room talking to the doctor. They were nodding their heads in understanding at the doctor. He pointed at them together and then at himself. My parents looked at each other, both with concerned expressions on their faces. I had to turn and run back to the bed because they had started walking back towards my room.

I had just gotten my legs under the covers when I heard the doorknob turn. My parents walked in, followed by the strange doctor. My parents pulled up chairs beside my bed while the doctor stood. I figured it was unprofessional for him to sit or something along those lines. My Mom took my hand and gave me a smile. “Am I going to die?” I asked shaking. Mom laughed and shook her head. “No sweetie, you’re not going to die. There’s… just something a little different about you hun.” My perplexed eyes searched around to the different faces in the room. “Well please just tell me. No one has tried to tell me what’s been going on and I’ve been scared to death that I’m slowly bleeding to death through my dick!” “Watch your language young man.” My Dad said sternly. “Well, just tell me what’s wrong with me then!” I screamed, letting the pent up panic unleash and flow through me. My Mom rubbed her thumb along my hand and sighed. “Jacoby, hun. You’re what doctors call a hermaphrodite. That means that you have both girl and boy parts in you, do you understand?” I didn’t really, but I nodded anyway.

The doctor then moved into my line of sight. “I’m here to explain things more thoroughly to you Jacoby. You were born right here in this hospital. When you were around three weeks old, your stomach distended, which means blew up like a balloon. You were brought here and I did an ultrasound on you, and we were able to treat that problem. But, I found another one. On the outside, you were and still are a normal healthy boy, but the ultrasound revealed that you have a uterus. That is something that is only found inside of girls. When you were conceived, some of your chromosomes didn’t line up or connect right and you were able to grow both sets of organs. A penis and testes on the outside, but a uterus and ovaries on the inside. You are a very interesting medical anomaly I must say. We alerted your parents of the discovery and we had a theory. Your estrogen or testosterone levels when you grew up would determine which of the organs would function normally and the other would basically just take up space. Male parts run on high amounts of testosterone while female parts run on estrogen. We had to wait and see which one your body would produce more. Surprisingly, your body has adapted to service both. You are producing normal amounts of testosterone for a boy your age but also the normal amount of estrogen as well.”

I didn’t notice, but as he was finished speaking, my mouth was wide open. I was disgusted. I was a half boy, half girl mutant. “Now Jacoby,” the doctor started again, “what you have been experiencing is menstruation, basically your period. When girls get to be around the age you are now, they begin this too. It is completely manageable.” “Manageable!” I screamed. “You just told me that I’m half girl and you want to say that this is manageable. What’s going to happen next, I’m going to start growing breasts?” My parents and the doctor looked down to the floor and pursed their lips. “What? I am! What! Now you cannot say that this part is manageable. I’m going to have to wear a bra!” “No, no,” the doctor said, “we can give you surgery to fix that part, if you want.” “Hell yes I want it!” My Dad didn’t scold me for using Hell because it was understandable that I would be a little pissed off.

I sat in the room for about another hour trying to let everything sink in. I was going to have to get breast reduction surgery, or removal in my case, have to buy pads, and worst of all go through terrible PMS. “No one can ever find out.” I said to myself as we left the hospital towards the car. That was probably the best and worst day of my life.

Why the best? Well, it is because knowing that I was different made me want to be different. No one needed to know about my monthly secret, but I started taking risks. I had a period in my life where I drank a lot and got into fights, but that is all behind me now. I’ve learned to accept this no longer as a limitation, but as a life experience, and I must say that it has helped me a great deal. My feminine side has made me a great listener and has led me to be more attentive. Lucky for me, this is a huge turn on for girls. I was, and still am able to get basically any girl I want. Guys like me for this so I’m always “the man”, no one would ever suspect…

I’ve always said that everyone is different because no one can be the same, which is true, but I’d like to see someone try and compare themselves to me. My urge to be different has caused me to do things I never would have dreamed of doing. I was once afraid of meeting new people, now I see over four thousand of them three times a week. I could never picture myself singing on a huge stage in a band called Papa Roach, but here I stand with a smile on my face. I’ve found a wife who accepts me for who I am and doesn’t judge. This is all I can ask for.

I open the door and step out of the bathroom. The bed is stripped and the fresh sheets are folded neatly on the corner. The girl is gone, as expected. No one likes to be around when there is unknown blood around. Her clothes and purse were gone and there was a note folded on top of the clean sheets. It was written on the stiff hotel paper which had the logo printed on the top left-hand corner. “Jacoby,” I read it aloud, “Sorry I had to leave so soon. I made sure that you had your fresh sheets. I hope that you actually are alive to read this note, instead of bleeding out in the bathroom like I expect you are. I’m sorry, but you scared me. I like you and all, but we’re just too different. Love Cecile.”

I threw the note in the trashcan and fixed the new sheets on the bed. Pulling the covers over me I turned off the light, smiled, and whispered, “different. That’s what they always say.” And I drifted off to sleep.