Life and Aging

Life and Aging:

Holy moly it has been a long time! I do not even think it is because I have lacked things to write about. I quite possibly lacked motivation to write.

If you have followed along, you have realized that I have zero shame when it comes to sharing my life experiences. Buckle up, there will be what an average person would call over sharing.

This month has been rough from the very beginning. It was expected and I had been prepared as well as someone like myself could be prepared. My therapist has been out all month; she had tried to prepare me for the change. I thought well, this day and age, people are easier to find. She will know I did not manage well if she walks out one morning and sees me sitting on her couch (in her house) eating snacks. The fear of having to wear a horizontal striped suit prevents me from behaving that way. I am extra fluffy, horizontal stripes are not a flattering look for people like me. Only a few more days and I will have managed to not do anything that would cause me to wear such an outfit.

Sometime this last month, my Nurse Practitioner messaged me and asked why there is no record of me having a mammogram? There were two problems with this statement. I have a medical degree, not nearly as educated as she is but enough, that word should have automatically clicked for me to know what she was talking about. Problem number 1, It did not. I had to process what she meant. Second message from her was NVM found it, it was 6 years ago Problem number 2, I cannot remember what I said, nor most of the time, what I did 6 minutes ago, so 6 years and what has transpired or apparently not transpired, I am not the best person to ask. Oh, I do not walk around attached to my phone. I read these messages a few hours after they had been sent. I remember because I was thinking WOW, she had an entire conversation and solution that was one sided via message. The third message was along the lines of expect a phone call as I just put an order in for it. I am certain I have shared that whatever she say’s for me to do, I do. She can be scary. I have most definitely earned her putting the fear of God in me.

So, I immediately call Karen upon reading these messages. Maybe it’s a mistake, Karen will know. She sure did know, she said it has been over 6 years, and I have been trying to get you to get it done and you won’t. Whose side is she on anyway?

Then she tells me I have also tried to get you to get a pap done for years and you won’t. I said wooooooaaaaahhhh, I am done talking to you now.

Out of fear and fear alone, I answered when they called to schedule the mammogram. Anyone that personally knows me knows I am paranoid about smelling badly. My nose is extra sensitive. The instructions were no deodorant and no lotions. Great, not only do I have to get my tiddies (yes, I spelled that correctly) smashed, I have to do it without deodorant and lotion???? What kind of tyranny is this? Thankfully my appointment was early in the morning.

Believe it or not, I am not much of a conversationalist. I can do surface level conversations with acquaintances. Karen inevitably waits until she gets me into the car (I cannot drive), gets to highway speeds and then wants to “talk” about things. Often feelings which are never a conversation that I want to have with anyone. Remember, I go to counseling, I am learning about feelings. I am already anxious, so Karen’s timing makes me more anxious. I am fully aware that this is a me issue and not a Karen issue. My inability to have meaningful conversation with her is my own shortcomings. I am working on correcting these things as I only want SB to have the best version of me. Back to the story, so I am beginning to perspire from the uncomfortable conversation as well as the anticipation of having to have the tiddies smashed. I am rolling the window down, holding my arms out so wind will blow up my sleeves to prevent walking in smelling like a bag of onions. Fast forward to the actual ordeal. The lady comes and gets me and talks to me as if we are long lost friends, I cannot remember anything, so I absolutely have no idea who she is, she sure knows me. She tells me they have a new machine that is more comfortable. Nothing about this situation is going to be comfortable. I have completely different sized breasts, neither one is overly large, thank goodness, however one is much larger than the other. The larger one, not terrible. Awkward but not a lot of extra adjustments. The president of the itty-bitty committee, the lady was down there like she was trying to see an oil leak on her car trying to make sure that little sucker was in there. I am trying to stand on my tippy toes to make it reach easier; however, my balance is off, some days worse than others. This day was worse than others. I am swaying so things are tugging, the harder I try to stay steady the worse the sway is. Well, she got her pictures, she goes through them to make sure they are clear. I forgot to say, my overly paranoid self-had brought my deodorant. Cannot put it on yet, so I start thinking oh my goodness I sure would not want to be in this room after someone has gone without deodorant all day long in July. I thought I was thinking it when in fact I was saying it out loud. I realized it was not an internal thought when the lady started laughing. She says ok, they look good. I overly deodorize and put my clothes back on. The awkwardness was completely one sided. I am very thankful that there are people who want to do occupations such as that. I, however, would not last long, I do not always realize that I am verbalizing my thoughts.

Karen had not let up about the pap, she continued to remind (I used another word for her reminders, my word was nag) about it. “Don’t forget, don’t forget”. How the holy heck could I forget when she reminds me every 15 seconds?? I decided probably a good idea as some changes had occurred. I did not comply with Karen’s request out of fear like the mammogram, it was for the love of everything holy, stop nagging me, compliance. It is only because she cares. So that had been just as long. I do not go to my NP for that; I go to the Doctor she works with. I am super odd. I see him apparently once every 6 years, I see her often for med checks. This entire female check up situation, well, I would rather have my eyes gouged out with a dull spoon than to have to do any of it.

Once again, Karen gets me in the car, at highway speeds and wants to have conversation. This is way worse than the mammogram. I sit in the exam room for what seems like a lifetime, contemplating my escape. His medical assistant comes in and asks me a bunch of when was the last time this or that question. I felt bad because every question was followed with an I don’t know. Karen would have absolutely gone in with me to answer the questions, however back to odd me, we do not need an audience. She finished her part and told me the Dr. would come in and talk to me and then have me change into the gown. Lovely, let’s drag this out some more. I cannot even imagine what there is to talk about.  He came in and I have no clue what he said, I am still trying to plan my escape. He leaves and a bit later comes back in with his medical assistant. The most awkward part was the head lamp. I “thought” my goodness, so serious we have to have a head lamp? You guessed it, I did not say it to myself. Reminder was the medical assistant and the Dr. laughing.

All finished, fyi it was terrible. I stagger out to get into the vehicle, buckled in at highway speeds and Karen so very seriously asked me if he talked to me. I just lived the experience, I for sure do not want to make it a topic for conversation. Karen asked me if he talked to me? I said what are you talking about? She repeated it, I have all types of words to say and questions. None of which are appropriate, I compose myself and tell her, no, he did not say a word, I am not sure what you’re talking about, but I can promise you the last thing I want is him poking his head up talking to me when in that situation. That still must not have been appropriate because then she tries to explain what she meant, I do not want to talk nor listen anymore.

Fast forward to yesterday. My phone rings and it is the hospital. This is so and so with scheduling and Dr. so and so ordered an ultrasound. It had been a week since the horrible encounter. I thought I was in the clear. Nope. The lady is going through everything; I am making light of it as this should be the easiest of the 3 torturous parts of female health. Need to have a full bladder, no problem, mine is the size of a jellybean. This all sounds normal, I can drink whatever I normally drink etc, I am making jokes. Then the mood turned, she said just to let you know so you are not shocked, it may be transva…..I cannot even finish spelling it. I said trans what? I was able to guess that this was not pleasantry. I have no idea how this went so badly so quickly. Then she proceeds to explain what it means all while laughing. I asked if alcohol is considered appropriate fluids. Good thing I do not drink, she jokingly said she did not see why not. Remember the horizontal stripes from earlier? I better stick to water. Anyway, it is scheduled. The only thing that is missing is the bend over as the dr snaps their glove on.

I think maybe for a few days a month, every woman dislikes being a woman. This has been next level. I now know why it has been 6 years. I have been reminded that I am an aging woman.

Moral of the story, I hope you at least get a chuckle out of my misery. Do not be like me, prioritize the uncomfortably awkward exams. Schedule your mammograms in the fall, winter or early spring to prevent smelling like a bag of onions.

Until next time, be kind, Toodle-loo