Thursday, May 18, 2017

Here's to 47

Over the last eight months, I have gone through an emotional roller coaster.  Finding out you are no longer needed, and having to start over again has frankly been a nightmare.  I landed something I think will be ok, albeit, went through some uncertainty during the first couple of weeks, but has since changed for the better (check with me again next week).

My mindset has ranged from feelings of despair and thinking I'm not good at what I do, to trying to be positive to make things go my way.  My support system at home has been a Godsend.  I know I have been less than stellar to live with, and for that I am sorry.  Couple all of this with knowing full well I'm at the age where menopause has gotten his claws in me (yes, menopause is female would ever do this to another female) and has firmly taken control over my body. 

Yesterday I had a doctors appointment for a follow up on my underactive thyroid.  I went in knowing full well I have been feeling off, which I attributed to life and what was thrown at me in the last year.  I hadn't expected the nurse to ask me if I'm feeling depressed.  Hmmm, I hadn't really thought about it, but maybe.  I don't know.  I know I've felt like I've been served shit sandwich for months on end.  I know my bones ache.  I know that I question 'Why Me?' more often than I should.  I know at any given moment I will break out into a sweat, while crying watching a tv show or action movie, only to have a blanket draped over my lap because in two seconds I'll be cold.

After having a heart-to-heart with my doctor (we've seen him for 16+ years), I was feeling a little better.  My thyroid is still off and I know I need to change my diet, so I'm glad I went in to see him.  He also reminded me I have a mammogram to schedule and oh yeah, let's schedule a colonoscopy too.  Why am I telling you this?  I don't want to schedule them.  I don't want to be squished, or poked and prodded.  Someone I love dearly went through a colonoscopy and was put under during the procedure. They came to after it, and said 'Damnit - I know someone was in there!'  Well, if that isn't a visual I don't know what is. I think I'll pass.

I'm writing this just a couple of weeks before my 47th birthday.  Forty Seven. Four decades and seven years.   Shit.  4 F'ing 7.  What happened to 35?  Or 40?  Or even 45?  Next year will be my 30th high school reunion.  When the hell did I get old?  

I guess I need to stop thinking about my age and start embracing the freedom I have as almost-empty-nester.  That doesn't mean I'm going to start acting like a teenager, or even college student...I know enough people that do that already.  Hey, whatever floats your boat.  I know at any given moment, my husband and I can hop in the truck and go away fr the weekend.  Boys, feed yourselves.

I'm going to think about what I wanted to accomplish this year and actually accomplish it. I figure with seven months left in the year, I should finish up my 2017 to-do's right around December 31st, 2025.

Here's to 47.  Here's to thyroids put on the right track.  And to squishy boobs and alien invasions.  And a better eight months than the last.

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