I would like you to think that I am making up this story, but I am not. The whole world knows I was in a car accident nearly two years ago. Also, that I have been trying to pull my life back together through the resulting 5 surgeries and "disability" of losing the use of my dominant arm. But possibly, the worst part of the entire ordeal occurred just a few weeks ago when I went in for my final surgery. At this point, the surgery center routine is almost … normal. Until this last visit when the admitting nurse handed me my hospital gown to change into and then added . . . " You don’t still get your cycle do you?"
"What was that, BITCH?"
Did I HEAR her right?
"Excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse me!! (As my jaw dropped to the floor!!) OF COURSE I DO … WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM? OLD??"
Apparently she registered the utterly stunned look on my face. Admitting Nurse started rambling on about needing to make sure I wasn’t pregnant prior to surgery.
"TUBES TIED RIGHT AFTER BIRTH OF BABY #3, BITCH!!"
Not that I was offended by the question or anything like that.
But I admit — I have NOT been able to let it go. I have some friends that are dealing with the M word, but they are in their FIFTIES. I am only in my FORTIES. Do I look like I am in my FIFTIES? Has the stress of the accident/surgeries/pain added an efffing DECADE to my looks? As if I haven’t had ENOUGH stress …
I actually did a double take when I was in Borders Bookstore yesterday and saw that The Wisdom of Menopause was staring back at me from the bestseller shelf. It was as if Admitting Nurse had planted it there on purpose right before I arrived. Damn if she hasn’t permanently damaged my psyche!