Tomorrow's The Day

Tomorrow's the day. I'm feeling a bit nervous. Well truth be told, ALOT nervous.

When our little family went through the stressful events of 1999, I started having health problems. My doctor sent me to an endocrinologist to have my thyroid checked after a year or so of various symptoms, but the doc said I was in the "normal" range (low, but normal) and was just getting old at the age of 31. I accepted that at the time.

For several years now I've taken estrogen hormone therapy. It's helped me function and lead a bit more of a normal life, but I still miss "me" - the highly energetic, bouncing off the walls, clear singing voice, into everything person I once was. Been to counselors to insure I'm not holding onto residuals from the difficult years, and been told I'm in good mental health (well, some of my friends might deem that incorrect :-), knowing my propensity for orneriness). But my physical health is still not where it should be at this stage in my life. My trip to and from Chicago screamed it loud and clear all over again.

So earlier this year I went off my hormones to see what would happen. First month went fine. Second month all my old symptoms came on in a massive rush. I couldn't get back on my estrogen fast enough.

In reading about thyroid problems, everyone mentions that the problem progresses over a period of years with gradually increasing and worsening symptoms. So after my experiment, I picked up the phone and called my doctor to get in to see a different endocrinoligist. He was backed up for three months.

So finally tomorrow I will get to see him. I hope he listens. I hope he hears me. I hope he doesn't just base his decision on one test result. I hope he's willing to try and help and not write me off as a hypochondriac or just pre-menopausal. I think that's why I'm so nervous. This time I won't accept the pat or easy answer again.

This time I will fight for myself until taken seriously - for myself, for my son, for my life.

It's too precious to waste.

Timelessness (is that a word?)

Age can be a funny thing.

I'm turning forty next year - yes, the big 4-0. Some people are terrified of that designation of "middle-age", but I'm looking forward to it. Yes, I'm strange that way.

Turning twenty was wonderful; I was no longer a teenager. Thirty seemed as if the beginning of life had come, and perhaps I'd finally gain the respect of my older peers (yeah right, like that's ever going to happen). So what is the matter with turning forty? For me, absolutely nothing. I celebrate it. It means I've survived another milestone.

There was a time in my life when I didn't think I'd make it to my next birthday. When the physical body wears thin it really makes your world and focus shrink down to what is truly important. During that time, life for me was about reaching that next milestone to ensure I'd be here for my son. He became my driving life-force to do everything possible to live another day, week, month, and year.

Life has such meaning and purpose to me each and every day. I no longer struggle just to survive; now I thrive. It is a precious gift to be given a second chance.

It also means I'm moving forward. So forty, come on down!