Fanning Granny...Whew!

NO, this guy's picture has absolutely NO connection to my blog entry today, none whatsoever...but I was looking for a picture that related, and saw this guy, Wentworth Miller from Prison Break, and he looks so hot, I thought I'd share....

Had an interesting trip to the doctor. He did the FSH test to see where I am in menopause. The last two times he's done this, he said I was in PRE-menopause. This test says I'm POST-menopause. I'd like to know how you go from PRE to Post without actually being at just plain ol' menopause. I thought that was funny.

Then I came home and it hit me. MENOPAUSE! I remember when Erma Bombeck said her age was somewhere between menopause and death, and now I'm there, too. Of course, my doctor reassures me that with medical technology advancing and people taking better care of themselves with things like blood pressure medicine, less fat in our diets (Granny cooked everything with LARD), and managing cholesterol, the life expectancy is increasing. He said I might even live to 100.

As bad as my memory is right now, I'd surely have lost my marbles completely by then, and just sit around smacking my gums together and driving my kids nuts. Don't know if a hundred would be all that much fun to be.

Actually today is the first day I've really honestly thought of myself as getting OLD. I mean I turned fifty, and I realized then that wasn't young, but it didn't really HIT me until he said "postmenopause." No good hormones anymore, no babies, non-working ovaries, memory going to hell (which he assures me will improve when my brain adjusts to the difference in the hormone level). Then I thought well...can't do anything about it, so not much use in worrying about it. I remember Granny saying at 89, after refusing a surgery her doctor had recommended, that she had lived a good life and didn't care about doing anything that drastic to prolong it. Maybe I'll feel that way by then, who knows.

Right now, the thought of DYING and leaving my children and soon-to-be grandchildren is awfully scary. Other women seem to be able to wrap their brain around all this and carry on, so I will, too. Fun, fun.

And it seems that menopause has brought on some other problem..which I won't go into now, but we have a hereditary disease in our family that is brought on in women by menopause and I show some signs of it on this last blood work. I have more tests to have, and if it turns out to be anything major, I'll pass it on. BTW, this disease is very treatable when caught early, if that's what it is.

Now for the one thing I wasn't sure I would address, because of the fact my daughter reads this blog, but it's such a big deal to me right now, and this is where I do my venting, I decided to just go for it and be really honest....
My children's father has only had contact with the youngest one in many, many years. My daughter has seen her father maybe twice since she was fifteen. I won't go into all the details, as I'm sure they are in some old blog entry (or several) but now that she's expecting, she's going to meet him for dinner. One part of me said great, maybe he's changed and he will actually add something to her life and the baby's. But the part of me that I denied woke me up at two in the morning in tears, and I didn't understand it. I vented in an email with Cathy, and she was very reassuring. Then I saw the counselor this week, and she helped me process it. I'm angry that I raised these kids alone, with no help from him, and then he waltzes back in and plays Grandpa. I'm afraid that he'll hurt her somehow. I'm jealous of the him having any time with her after the way he's treated her (and me, and her brothers), and upset that it might take away from the relationship she and I have. The therapist said you have to tell her how you feel, not to put a guilt-trip on her, not to talk her out of anything, just so you can get this out and be honest and not have this between the two of you. Also, I would actually allow myself to feel this and not stuff it and eat two boxes of Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls next week because of it. So I told her, and we talked it out, and I feel much better about her seeing him now.
As far as the house goes, I'm kicking butt with the cleaning and decluttering. I guess the anti-depressants actually are working, and so I keep popping them daily. I open the windows in the morning to let in sunlight. I get dressed every morning. I even get up early to spend time with my husband before he leaves for work. And I have a lot more energy and drive to do things. I'm even going with him to a PARTY with people I don't KNOW this weekend. If I make it through that without hiding in the closet or faking a heart attack to get out of it, then I'll know I'm actually done with depression. Thank God. Literally.
Well that's all the news. Sometimes I think this has to be the most boring blog around, but ya'll keep reading, and I keep writing. Thanks!!