If you use that "cup" thing during TOM...
Replies
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..... i don't use a "cup" thing, sorry.0
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But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
Edit to add:
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But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
The vagina and urethra are two separate things.0 -
I thought they were/ are disposable and you flush them down.0
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@ SlickFootAnna
I literally just peed myself. That was the most AWESOME thing I have ever read!
@ OP I have never used one nor do I ever intend to. Im happy sticking with good ol' fashion tampons.0 -
WTF Anna...I'm not reading that, lol!
You wash it in the sink...the whole idea is that you don't need to change it every two hours. You shouldn't really need to deal with it in public.
adini, seriously? Your urine and your mestrual blood do not even come out of the same hole! Urethra and vagina are not the same, lol0 -
But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
You know blood and urine come from different "holes", right?
On the rare occasions when I may need to empty mine in public (I can usually go 8 hours between cleanings) I make sure to have some flushable wipes with me. I dump the contents in the toilet, wipe out the cup, and put it back in. Simple. A second wipe can be used to clean my hands if I have to leave the stall to get to the sink.0 -
i hope youre 13.But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!0 -
The cup goes inside the vagina not in your bladder. It is like having a tampon in. You don't have to remove it to urinate.0
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But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
The vagina and urethra are two separate things.
haha....thank you and jinx!! Finally, someone who is actually informed about their body!0 -
where in the heck do you wash it out when you are in public? Or even at home for that matter if you live with others and share a bathroom?
If you're in a public washroom stall you can just dump it out without washing it and wash it next time. At home I shut and lock the door, like a normal person, so I wash it in the sink.0 -
But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
....:huh:0 -
But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
...don't worry - one person got the joke
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But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
Ummm well your portal of life exit is in a different part of your honey pot than your uretha....the cup sits against your cervix- which is inside.0 -
i hope youre 13.But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
:laugh: :drinker:0 -
But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
You do realize that you don't pee out of your vaginal canal, right?
Apparently there were already 10 other people covering this answer at the same time. My bad.
Oh, and thanks to mirena, I haven't had a lady cycle in 3 years. Which, by the way, is awesome.0 -
WTF Anna...I'm not reading that, lol!
You wash it in the sink...the whole idea is that you don't need to change it every two hours. You shouldn't really need to deal with it in public.
adini, seriously? Your urine and your mestrual blood do not even come out of the same hole! Urethra and vagina are not the same, lol
Oh, yes you DO.
READ IT.0 -
If you're in a public washroom stall you can just dump it out without washing it and wash it next time. At home I shut and lock the door, like a normal person, so I wash it in the sink.
Exactly. In a public washroom, you can also take some extra toilet paper and give it a good wipe.
I absolutely LOVE my diva cup and rarely have any leakage problems. It's also nice to not have to worry about bringing extra pads/tampons with me everywhere I go.0 -
@SlickFootAnna, thank you for your post, I cried laughing :bigsmile:0
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But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
LOL 0 -
If you're in a public washroom stall you can just dump it out without washing it and wash it next time. At home I shut and lock the door, like a normal person, so I wash it in the sink.
Exactly. In a public washroom, you can also take some extra toilet paper and give it a good wipe.
I absolutely LOVE my diva cup and rarely have any leakage problems. It's also nice to not have to worry about bringing extra pads/tampons with me everywhere I go.
Yep, yep!! And I am the farthest thing from a tree hugger or hippy. It is just way more convenient!0 -
Um, pee doesn't come from the same place as menstrual blood. Totally different exit route.
I understand the mechanics of how it works, I am just wondering where you would wash it out.0 -
But the REAL question is what do you do when you have to pee? You just pee in the cup or do you have to take the cup out every time to go pee?!
Ummm ... those are two different orifices' ...0 -
"So one of the many new devices I purchased for this trip was a Diva "Moon Cup". Since feminine hygine supplies would be hard to come by and waste-producing, I opted instead to buy a thing like a Barbie Deluxe Toilet Plunger, and stuff it up my hooha.
The theory is that the cup catches your pan drippings, and you empty it a couple times a day, washing it with hippy soap, and reinserting. It presupposes you are enough of an Earth Mother to be OK not only with your monthly outpourings, but also with generally fossicking around in your flaps. Now, I am no stranger to gore. Nor am I squeamish about my delicate rose of delight, except that I have no such illusions about it and indeed am always reminded of nothing so much as stuffing an oddly-warm raw turkey. So, when after several weeks of teasing, the Period Fairy threatening to postpone the Communist Invasion until I was actually getting on the plane (I was about ready to scream and cry at some hapless unwary male just as a sacrifice to appease her) at last I greeted the rosy-fingered dawn and set about embarking on my new life as a eco-friendly Diva.
The Moon Cup comes in two sizes; Size A, for youthful nymphs under 30 who have never given birth and have silken tresses and tinkling laughs and are all size 0, and size B, for Big Ol' *****es like m'self, who have either spawned, or are so old (ie over 30) that they might as well have been poppin' them out like Duggar Donuts, because their sugar walls are now echoing corridors full of cobwebs and slackness. Of course the packaging phrases it more nicely, but I was miffed to see that despite having never replicated, I was still doomed to the Big Gulp size because of my age alone.
So, chalice in hand, fingers washed, and let's fold that thing like a taco (no, not THAT thing, the other thing!) and cram it up where only one man has gone before and even then not for a damn long time even when he WAS still around. I'm sure I imagined the rusty creaking sounds as I tried to shove something which was larger than anything previous (with the exception of various medical speculums which, I believe, were constructed by the same person who designed the Montlake Drawbridge)into the Gaping Maw.
Now, you're supposed to roll the cup up, smuggle it past the border, let it expand, then turn it clockwise (or counter clockwise, or then one way and another, stopping when you hear the click, or something...) anyway, you're supposed to be able to turn this thing like a dial in there."If the cup does not turn easily, you did it wrong" Oh, of course, I'll just grasp hold of a thing about the size, shape, and slipperyness of the pointy end of a peeled hard-boiled egg, which is now buried in the meaty folds of my innermost femininity, which, I may add, are well-sluiced with the special effects from a Quentin Tarantino film, and spin that sucker like a dredel.
There is, also, a small stem at the base of this cup, which, being made of the same slippery silicon and about a centimeter long, is about as helpful as providing a live, untrained earthworm for a handle. More on this later.
So, rotate this thing in situ, to ensure a good 'seal' and a comfortable fit.
Does. Not. Happen.
Ladies (and gentlemen, although I hope for your sake none of you gentlemen are reading this), I tried. I hauled that thing in and out of there more times, and with much less joy, than Eeyore with his birthday present, and not once could I get that thing to "turn easily". I finally gave up, since it seemed, at one point, to be "fully inflated" and more or less in the right place. Frankly I think that having left my furrow unplowed for so long, I'm not exactly the proper degree of hotdog-hallway that the instruction-writer was intending to address, but so be it. Let's give this thing a whirl, if we can't give it a twist.
Fast forward a few hours in which I've done nothing much. To its credit, I don't feel the presence of THE CUP at all, no discomfort, not even a vague sense of "eugh" as I sometimes have when knowing all that stands between me and my khakis is a small cottony Dutch boy. In fact, I'm getting rather concerned that the Diva Cup has wormed its way in like some form of parasitic jellyfish and is now eagerly migrating up my fallopian tubes, with me all unknowing. Time to go fishing.
And that is where I discover that, while it's difficult to try and 'turn' a Diva Cup newly lodged in your sanctum sanctorum, it's a freakin' log-fall compared to trying to recover said Cup after it has gotten comfortably settled in the downy folds of your blood-engorged tissues. Yes, indeed, if cram my fingers up there to the point of pain, I can just, tantilizingly, tickle the end of that goddamn silicone 'stem'. Grasp it? Not in hell.
Of course the instructions say, if this happens, DO NOT PANIC. Well, thank god for that, because I was already running through the list of people I'd trust with a flashlight, a set of forceps, and an experience that would scar both of us for the rest of our lives. There were instructions for different positions, and "bearing down" and so forth, which I tried, to no avail, and I was pretty sure that my ham-fisted efforts (ahem) were just making things worse on the "swollen" front, so Diva and I took a break, and retired to our respective corners for an hour or so.
Now I brought out my secret weapon: Beer. If, gods help me, I ever have to have a baby, I intend to be drunk off my *kitten* for the delivery, and I surely hope that the Fairy Prince Unicorn Elvis who is my chosen Babydaddy will provide a bedside IV of godly ambrosia, or at least Jim Beam. But anyway, two beers and I'm good to go spelunking in quest of the Holy Grail once more.
Either the beer, or the break, or the combination of all of these and squatting on the bathmat like a Neanderthal crapping, finally, produced enough of that goddamn 'stem' to grab (which was good, because I was dreading having use the kitchen tongs Up There or something) and, with a surprising amount of horrible suctioning "discomfort", the invader was routed! And, wonder of wonders, it was indeed partially filled. Not filled with DELICIOUS CANDY, no, but it did seem to have been, you know... -working-, before I so rudely dislodged it from its parasitic feeding. I felt a combination of grudging respect and intrigue, as one might upon meeting a foe worthy of their steel. Provided we could agree to disagree on the whole "turn 360 degrees in place" aspect, perhaps this could indeed be a workable partnership. Better than bleeding into the Rupununi and attracting every caiman, pirahna, and candiru fish for fifty miles.
But not without some boundaries first. I tied a ROPE to that stupid stem this time."
Woah0 -
Um, pee doesn't come from the same place as menstrual blood. Totally different exit route.
I understand the mechanics of how it works, I am just wondering where you would wash it out.
You really shouldn't have to wash it out in public. When I do though, I try to use a one person bathroom with the sink inside or I just wipe it out rather than rinsing.0 -
"So one of the many new devices I purchased for this trip was a Diva "Moon Cup". Since feminine hygine supplies would be hard to come by and waste-producing, I opted instead to buy a thing like a Barbie Deluxe Toilet Plunger, and stuff it up my hooha.
The theory is that the cup catches your pan drippings, and you empty it a couple times a day, washing it with hippy soap, and reinserting. It presupposes you are enough of an Earth Mother to be OK not only with your monthly outpourings, but also with generally fossicking around in your flaps. Now, I am no stranger to gore. Nor am I squeamish about my delicate rose of delight, except that I have no such illusions about it and indeed am always reminded of nothing so much as stuffing an oddly-warm raw turkey. So, when after several weeks of teasing, the Period Fairy threatening to postpone the Communist Invasion until I was actually getting on the plane (I was about ready to scream and cry at some hapless unwary male just as a sacrifice to appease her) at last I greeted the rosy-fingered dawn and set about embarking on my new life as a eco-friendly Diva.
The Moon Cup comes in two sizes; Size A, for youthful nymphs under 30 who have never given birth and have silken tresses and tinkling laughs and are all size 0, and size B, for Big Ol' *****es like m'self, who have either spawned, or are so old (ie over 30) that they might as well have been poppin' them out like Duggar Donuts, because their sugar walls are now echoing corridors full of cobwebs and slackness. Of course the packaging phrases it more nicely, but I was miffed to see that despite having never replicated, I was still doomed to the Big Gulp size because of my age alone.
So, chalice in hand, fingers washed, and let's fold that thing like a taco (no, not THAT thing, the other thing!) and cram it up where only one man has gone before and even then not for a damn long time even when he WAS still around. I'm sure I imagined the rusty creaking sounds as I tried to shove something which was larger than anything previous (with the exception of various medical speculums which, I believe, were constructed by the same person who designed the Montlake Drawbridge)into the Gaping Maw.
Now, you're supposed to roll the cup up, smuggle it past the border, let it expand, then turn it clockwise (or counter clockwise, or then one way and another, stopping when you hear the click, or something...) anyway, you're supposed to be able to turn this thing like a dial in there."If the cup does not turn easily, you did it wrong" Oh, of course, I'll just grasp hold of a thing about the size, shape, and slipperyness of the pointy end of a peeled hard-boiled egg, which is now buried in the meaty folds of my innermost femininity, which, I may add, are well-sluiced with the special effects from a Quentin Tarantino film, and spin that sucker like a dredel.
There is, also, a small stem at the base of this cup, which, being made of the same slippery silicon and about a centimeter long, is about as helpful as providing a live, untrained earthworm for a handle. More on this later.
So, rotate this thing in situ, to ensure a good 'seal' and a comfortable fit.
Does. Not. Happen.
Ladies (and gentlemen, although I hope for your sake none of you gentlemen are reading this), I tried. I hauled that thing in and out of there more times, and with much less joy, than Eeyore with his birthday present, and not once could I get that thing to "turn easily". I finally gave up, since it seemed, at one point, to be "fully inflated" and more or less in the right place. Frankly I think that having left my furrow unplowed for so long, I'm not exactly the proper degree of hotdog-hallway that the instruction-writer was intending to address, but so be it. Let's give this thing a whirl, if we can't give it a twist.
Fast forward a few hours in which I've done nothing much. To its credit, I don't feel the presence of THE CUP at all, no discomfort, not even a vague sense of "eugh" as I sometimes have when knowing all that stands between me and my khakis is a small cottony Dutch boy. In fact, I'm getting rather concerned that the Diva Cup has wormed its way in like some form of parasitic jellyfish and is now eagerly migrating up my fallopian tubes, with me all unknowing. Time to go fishing.
And that is where I discover that, while it's difficult to try and 'turn' a Diva Cup newly lodged in your sanctum sanctorum, it's a freakin' log-fall compared to trying to recover said Cup after it has gotten comfortably settled in the downy folds of your blood-engorged tissues. Yes, indeed, if cram my fingers up there to the point of pain, I can just, tantilizingly, tickle the end of that goddamn silicone 'stem'. Grasp it? Not in hell.
Of course the instructions say, if this happens, DO NOT PANIC. Well, thank god for that, because I was already running through the list of people I'd trust with a flashlight, a set of forceps, and an experience that would scar both of us for the rest of our lives. There were instructions for different positions, and "bearing down" and so forth, which I tried, to no avail, and I was pretty sure that my ham-fisted efforts (ahem) were just making things worse on the "swollen" front, so Diva and I took a break, and retired to our respective corners for an hour or so.
Now I brought out my secret weapon: Beer. If, gods help me, I ever have to have a baby, I intend to be drunk off my *kitten* for the delivery, and I surely hope that the Fairy Prince Unicorn Elvis who is my chosen Babydaddy will provide a bedside IV of godly ambrosia, or at least Jim Beam. But anyway, two beers and I'm good to go spelunking in quest of the Holy Grail once more.
Either the beer, or the break, or the combination of all of these and squatting on the bathmat like a Neanderthal crapping, finally, produced enough of that goddamn 'stem' to grab (which was good, because I was dreading having use the kitchen tongs Up There or something) and, with a surprising amount of horrible suctioning "discomfort", the invader was routed! And, wonder of wonders, it was indeed partially filled. Not filled with DELICIOUS CANDY, no, but it did seem to have been, you know... -working-, before I so rudely dislodged it from its parasitic feeding. I felt a combination of grudging respect and intrigue, as one might upon meeting a foe worthy of their steel. Provided we could agree to disagree on the whole "turn 360 degrees in place" aspect, perhaps this could indeed be a workable partnership. Better than bleeding into the Rupununi and attracting every caiman, pirahna, and candiru fish for fifty miles.
But not without some boundaries first. I tied a ROPE to that stupid stem this time."
I'm bent over :laugh: :laugh: here ... haven't read anything that entertaining in a LONG time.
Are you a writer? If not you're wasting an awesome talent0 -
bump0
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I have never heard of this before. Interesting.
I like how the guys aren't touching this topic AT ALL.0 -
I am a huge fan of the Diva cup and have turned several people on to it! It may take some getting used to but stick with it and you'll realize it's SO much better than tampons. Usually I forget that I have it in. I usually empty it once in the shower (usually at night), and then once in the morning at home before I leave for the day. I have never needed to empty it more than twice a day.
If you ever find the cup stuck up there try breaking the seal between the cup and your body. Just reach up in there and press the cup in, trying to recreate that magical taco shape you got it into to get it up there in the first place. Once the seal has been broken you can usually grab the cup or the stem part and remove it.0 -
It's not as bad as people make it sound. Whats even more gross is the pics you can find online of MOLDY tampons found by tampon consumers. How often do you check to make sure that your tampons aren't moldy before inserting?
For that reason, I use the Diva cup. I've only had to wash it in public once- which was a pain, no lie. But at home, its super easy and I can go a really long time without having to deal with it. I dump it in the toilet and clean it in the bathtub (just because of how my bathroom is set up)... it comes out alot cleaner than you would expect.0
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