Aunt Flow Has Left The Building

And I don’t care if she never comes back. It is official. My doctor confirmed today what I’ve suspected for a while. I am in menopause. And that thud you heard was my pride hitting the floor. Or my sagging butt. For a decade I’ve labored under the delusion that everyone but me was getting older. I’d see a childhood classmate and think, “Wow, he’s really been living hard,” or “What happened to her?” never seeing in the mirror what they see when they look at me. Heck, I’m no spring chicken either. I have my fair share of wrinkles and rubbery skin. Today’s diagnosis, delivered with a comforting smile and a discussion about hormones, smacked me in the forehead. I can no longer deny the truth. I AM going to get old. In fact, on the ladder of aging, I’ve climbed more than half the rungs. As my Aunt Annabelle once said during a disappointing moment, “S**t, s**t, s**t!

Oh, I could pretend I don’t mind aging and throw out all kinds of pearls about how age brings wisdom and wrinkles only go where the smiles have been, but the truth is I’m just vain enough to mourn the loss of my youth and my perky boobs. I do NOT mourn the loss of my period. (And THAT sound was the male readers clicking away to another site, any site that doesn’t talk about menstruation. Sorry guys.) I’m actually pretty excited about Aunt Flow’s disappearance. She’s been a pain in my backside (snort) for years. That news didn’t bother me because of the obvious perk. The news that did was that because of my hormonal changes I need a bone density test. Bone density test?! Isn’t that for women my mother’s age? Why no, Hula. Now’s the time for you to do this because you are a prime candidate for osteoporosis, bony girl. I got the calcium talk, too. Oh, and I need another mammogram. I made an appointment for both tests later this month, so I’ll get squeezed and radiated all on the same day. Can you see the sunbeams of happiness radiating out of my butt?

It was actually my second smack on the forehead in the last week. I went to the dentist last week because of a hot cold sensitivity thing going on in the back on my mouth, and he handed me this.“Noooo, not the Sensodyne,” I groaned. “That’s for people who are getting older.” My dentist, who is my age, thought it was quite funny and suggested we compare knee and foot problems. Which brings me this.
If the foot doctor recommends these on my next visit, I’m outa there. I’ll be off to some breezy Caribbean island where I can go barefoot and I won’t notice these hot flashes.