Get out.

Viva La Pompom!

And 2025? Well, this year I was meant to be recovering post-op and so festive plans were regretfully abandoned, but, BUT…

2024 is possibly my favourite. I had it planned for a full year. Fruity, juicy, sassy hot pink, lavender and obnoxious orange.

2023 was another colour riot and snow balls strewn artfully.

2023 was meant to be snowy white with Mondrian hits of colour, but it looked shit, so…

2022 went full fuchsia and citrus splash.

2021 was a blackcurrant and lemon fiesta.

2020 was the first - a riot of mismatching joy.

Death. Yours of theirs.

Oh god, it really is just another name for felching, isn’t it.

Add P.E. teachers trilling “come on, get on with it - we all get them girls!” and GPs bleating “it’s normal, it’ll go when you have babies” and Facebook Lindas giving it “Sick days for periods?! Just pop a paracetamol and stop making a fuss!” for added authenticity.

So if you want the endometriosis and adenomyosis experience just jab three holes in your belly, inflate the cavity with air, poke in some kitchen utensils and mix your giblets up like they’re a Christmas cake batter and presto!