Going out of Business

I have been dealing with some medical issues of late, that have gone from . "Well, given your family history it may be cancer..." to "Hmmm, have you tired vitamins?"

In my head I have run through the cancer route, given it is a topic I am acutely familiar with.  Diagnoses, maybe surgery, chemo, loss of hair, throwing up.  Looking at the upside, I could use some new scarves, I would probably lose weight, and the drugs that come with surgery don't sound all that bad.  

The downside of course would be death.  Leaving five children behind, three of them having lost all the parents they ever had.  A depressing thought to be sure.

For kicks, albeit morbid, I imagine my funeral.  I am curious who would say what about me.  Apparently even in death I am vain and narcissistic.

"she will be missed."

I hear the obnoxious whispering from a few people I do not even recognize, "Oh those poor children." If my ghost could smack them it would.  

After some poking, prodding, and numerous blood tests a verdict was reached.

"It seems that you are entering menopause Miss Evers."

The Earth stopped revolving.  I was already eyeing a Chanel scarf for my hair free chemo head.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"Well, given your symptoms and blood work there seems to be no other explanation."

I said, "No other explanation?" I looked at the wall to see where this crackpot know nothing Doctor got her degree, which online school of medicine printed out a fake certificate.  Harvard.  Great.

I started to tune out and her words faded away, "You can expect mood changes, irregular periods that could last as long as...."

My head was saying what the fuck? menopause? I am 43 years old.  So what, all my eggs are gone?  am I dropping the remainder all at once like a going out of business sale? mood changes? I already have mood changes, I live with teenagers.  

Snapping back to reality I looked at her with wide aging doe eyes and asked, "Are you absolutely sure it isn't caner?"

She thought I would be thrilled it was not cancer.

When I got into my car I cried.  Then I questioned if my crying was just a symptom of my impending lack of estrogen.

A young man smiled at me and I wanted to smack him and tell him I was no cougar, more like a dinosaur.

Yes I know there are wonderful books on this "stage" of life, yes I know what women will say to me.  Yes yes yes.  Fuck Gail Sheehy and her passages.  Can we please just slow everything down for once?

It is time to take up arms and not go gently into this dark night.  No way.  I refuse to learn how to crochet, I refuse to stop wanting to wear tiaras every day.  (I don't really wear one, I just want to.)

I will not buy a rocking chair or start covering my flabby arms.

Have I mentioned that I am only 43?

Yes my behaviour has been a bit erratic the last few months, and I suppose I could blame it all on my new found "Hormonal imbalance" but that is a cop out.  I have done and said things I am not proud of, but I am not ready to don a tee shirt that says, "Don't blame me, I lost all my eggs."

One upside I have noticed is that I have developed a certain hard edge that was not previously part of my self description.  I have little to no tolerance for certain attitudes, or people who are hell bent on blaming me for every pain in their lives.  Deal with it.

I have also noticed that along with my short temper has come a larger amount of forgiveness.  I am now able to express my feelings of hurt, but then move on and forgive.  These could be useful tools to have.

I have not yet, however forgiven my body for selling off all my eggs and hormones without discussing it with my first.

Maybe I need a second opinion.