Cathrine Mahoney endured a monthly 'murder scene bloodbath' – but it wasn't perimenopause.

If my doctor's surgery awarded frequent flyer points for every visit, it’s safe to say I’d have racked up a business-class flight to London by now.

While I do love my doctor, the frequency of my appointments is mainly based on a mixture of minor ongoing ailments and the fact that I’m a slight hypochondriac (or substantial hypochondriac if you ask my mum Anne). 

My point is, I don’t have an issue going to visit my GP – that is unless the visit has to do with my nether regions.

Watch: Ask Mia Anything | Perimenopause. Story continues below.

It goes without saying I would always book in for my regular pap smears – much as the thought of the squelch of lubricant followed by the insertion of the cold metal speculum while making small talk with the doc isn’t one of my top five fave things, I do understand how important the procedure is.

Oh, and how could I forget ‘tampon-gate’ when I ended up doubling up by accident and needed assistance locating the original tampon? This happened not once but twice… not my finest moments.

Generally, any front- or back-bottom medical concerns I have see me hitting Dr Google, rather than clocking up more points on my imaginary medical frequent flyer card and speaking to a proper practitioner.

And so, when my periods went from fairly heavy to haemorrhaging – from regular as clockwork and short in length to sporadic and lasting up to 10 days – I hit the keyboard. And as I was edging toward my late 40s, I also mentioned it to older friends: Was this the start of the menopause journey?

The resounding answer both from my extensive online investigations and the input of friends who had gone through the ‘change’ was yes, this was almost definitely perimenopause.

I thought I had another 10 years in me before I hit menopause based on the age my mum was when she went through it (another fact I had confirmed by friends and Google searches) but apparently not.

The next 12 months saw me going through sanitary products like they were going out of fashion – and I was spending a fortune.

One friend suggested I try a period cup to save dollars (and the environment). I explained that unless there was a period bucket on the market, it wouldn’t cut the mustard.

Image: Supplied.

For those reading this who have only experienced ‘light periods’ (lucky things), let me go into detail about what we are talking about here. 

It was horrendous, debilitating, unpredictable – and in the end, for me, it meant cancelling catchups, work meetings and watching my son play sport. 

I couldn’t leave the house without a tampon, surfboard-sized pad and period undies on, only to have flooded that mega level of absorption within 20 mins. 

I would have to put towels down when driving to school pick-ups.

The lowest point was when I was being photographed for a national magazine to promote my book release, hair, make-up, beautiful outfits and an amazing photographer and team – I had to shoot off the set every 15 mins to change my undercarriage protection. Thank goodness the stylist was an old friend, so when she helped me out of one silk dress and my pad became dislodged and fell out, we could laugh about it.

It was only when I visited the doctor about my energy levels and a subsequent iron test showed I was pretty much out of the stuff that the investigation into my cycle started.

An appointment with a genealogist who I am now completely in love with (because he changed my life not because I want to pash his face off) started the tests and scans, and they showed was not, in fact, perimenopausal. 

What I had was a bad case of fibroids.

Listen to 456 Club hosts talk with two women about their vastly different sex lives. Post continues below.

I went in for an operation and had an ablation, which removed the fibroids – the real reason behind the murder scene bloodbath I had to endure monthly. 

A total game changer and all normal life has resumed, including towel-free travel to school pick-ups!

For me, the moral of the story is, do not self-diagnose, even when all roads lead to a seemingly obvious medical answer. And don’t put off a visit to the doctor because you’re embarrassed.

Even presuming I will go through menopause at a similar age to my mother has been blown out of the water thanks to the lovely Doctor Linda Dear, who appears on the first episode of the 456 Club podcast, which I co-host with Neralda Jacobs, made in partnership with Priceline Pharmacy.

As an aforementioned hypochondriac, being able to ask a professional all the questions about what to expect around the changes that menopause would present was amazing, especially asking the embarrassing ones, like is a dry vagina normal?!

Asking for a friend and the listeners, of course…

Cathrine Mahoney is the co-host of Mamamia’s 456 Club, made in partnership with Priceline Pharmacy. You can listen here.

Feature Image: Supplied