Tiffany: “No, I’m not pregnant or anything. I can’t stop
bleeding. I don’t know why I’m bleeding.”It was so embarrassing. All I could think about was that I
didn’t have insurance, and I couldn’t pay for an ambulance.
Tiffany: “I don’t want to pay for an ambulance. Just
call my grandma.”My grandma came and took me to the hospital. ͳey
couldn’t mgure out what was wrong. ͳere was nothing in
my tests. ͳey kept me in the hospital overnight. Nothing
showed up that was actually wrong. No mbroids. Nothing.
They couldn’t figure it out.
ͳey gave me some medication, like some birth control
stuĉ that’s supposed to make it stop. My stomach also felt
like it was on mre, like it was burning up. ͳey said I didn’t
have ulcers or nothing like that, but they gave me something
for it.
I got so skinny. I was down to 110 pounds.
I felt like I was dying. I was crying all the time, bleeding
all the time. My stomach was hurting all the time. I was so
fucking sick.
ͳey eventually gave me some antidepressants. ͳey
recommended that I see a psychiatrist, so I did.
ͳe therapist was nice. She talked to me all about my life
and everything, and I was constantly crying in there. But it
was weird, because everything I said, she would laugh. She’d
be giggling and stuff.