I’m sat here wondering how to start my roundup post. It’s weird, because usually I make a brew and just start rabbiting on about my week like I would if I were having a cuppa with you all in real life, but I’m struggling to find any version of my normal life at the mo. I’ve definitely skipped a second period. This has never happened before and I’m hoping marks the beginning of the actual menopause (as against the peri-menopause, which is where your hormones are in decline but you still have regular periods). In the last few years I’ve had some not-so-pleasant symptoms but it’s been totally manageable, however things have suddenly changed and not in a good way. I’ll do a proper post about it all this week but suffice to say I feel like death. The Menopause Fairy, it seems, doesn’t have a magic wand. Nooooo. She has a truncheon with which she batters you senseless. The Bitch.
After telling you all that someone had made a cash bid on my bungalow which had been accepted by the vendors, things took an unusual turn on Monday. I received a phone call from the estate agent all out of the blue who told me the house was still very much on the market. The prospective buyers, apparently, had a change of circumstance and pulled out (which is code for they realized how much work was actually involved and said “no way Pedro”). I got all excited that maybe I could buy my dream property after all, so decided to up my bid by £10,000 to the maximum I can afford…………..and it was turned down. Again. Fuck-a-rubber-duck. So I had hope. Then no hope. Then hope again. Then no hope, again. My fragile emotions can’t take it and I have spent the week alternating between sobbing and shouting at the dog like a raving lunatic 😉
It’s been a month since we received a letter from the Neurologist saying my Dad’s biopsy for Sjogren’s Syndrome was positive and his GP needed to refer him to Rheumatology. However, we have not had an appointment through so I chased his GP up and it was obvious she hadn’t even read the letter and had no clue what I was talking about. FFS. We were then given the choice of where to be treated. We’re both so sick of travelling hundreds of miles so really wanted to be seen at our local hospital but the first appointment wasn’t for 3 months (!), so we’ve opted for the next closest hospital and have an appointment in 7 weeks which still feels like an age away but is better than Christmas.
During the school holidays I had my two little models from the village come over for a photo shoot. I’ve been working on the resulting pictures for weeks and they’ve both been a mare to do, but I finally finished at least one of them which I’m calling ‘Fly Fishing‘. It’s a picture which looks better as a large print as it contains lots of detail, so I’m not sure how well it will do in competitions where images are looked at for 5 seconds on a small screen, but my little model loved it so that’s the main thing.
It’s my birthday this week and I will be 52. Holy Mary Mother of God. I still feel 32 in my head, so when I look in the mirror and this saggy, dried up, unrecognizable stranger stares back at me it comes as a humongous, mind-bending shock. Who is she? Who is she?! And more importantly where have I gone?!!
In desperate need of a good laugh I’ve started following the Menopausal Mayhem Mother on Facebook. She’s fucking hilarious and has my sense of humour to a T. It’s comforting to know I’m not the only woman on the planet who is totally losing her shit and swearing worse than a Docker. If anyone wants to know what they can buy me for my birthday I’ll have a crate of these please 😀