Spring has sprung,
the ole butch,
is slimmer,
than…
well,
I don’t remember,
when.
🙂
I have read a little,
since my last post,
making my way through,
a romance novel,
my love,
sent me for convalescence,
I am also,
working my way through,
Siegfried Sassoon’s -Memoirs of An Infantry Officer,
one is about a brave lady knight,
and,
the other is about an honest man,
a poet,
‘telling’ what the war really did to men.
Still slow going,
the reading.
I am walking more and more,
everyday,
should be back to work,
within the next three weeks.
The healing process,
goes on,
remarkably well,
I was/am so lucky,
in my robust health,
and,
in not having a serious illness,
a major surgery,
but,
not a life altering illness,
really lucky.
It would seem,
that along with being,
of the minority,
who,
grows fibroids of,
the mega variety,
I ain’t whistling dixie there my friends, we are talking almost 25 pounds, yup, you read that right!
I am also of the minority,
maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, might be tempting faith:-)
fifteen percent minority,
of women who go through,
menopause,
without hot flashes.
Not a one,
no night sweats,
nothin’.
My surgery was seven weeks ago,
I had been pretty much,
in menopause,
eight or nine months previous,
but,
with the hysterectomy,
I was in menopause,
surgical menopause.
I have had no hot flashes,
but,
oh my,
the mood swings,
I’ve had them for years,
they seemed to be,
getting better last year,
but,
now,
they are back with a vengeance.
When they happen,
I am hard to take,
really hard to take.
I am  a gifted practitioner of the understatement
Good thing I am as charming,
as I am,
the rest of the time,
because when the mood swings are at their,
height,
I am unbearable.
I jest,
but,
honestly,
it isn’t really funny,
and,
these are things that need to be,
talked about,
demystified,
etc.
From what I hear,
the mood swings are better,
than the flashes,
we bear what we must.
I do not wish to excuse my moods,
nor am I proud of them,
I try to control them,
hold on,
breathe,
deeply,
and,
hope they will pass,
and,
that when they do,
my friends,
my mother,
and,
my girl,
will still be speaking to me.
Minority, marginal,
that’s me,
and,
that’s ok.
It is my road,
it is my voice.
“I haven’t had much to say, lately”
I told my young friend,
Renaud,
when we were walking by the river,
on Sunday,
“then, maybe you should make others say things, have characters talk and say’.
He’s a smart guy,
astute, sensitive,
wise beyond his years.
I told him,
I didn’t write fiction,
that my character,
was,
basically,
an alter ego,
BB,
was/is,
me,
a little braver and funnier.
That I was,
more,
a columnist,
a memoirist,
but,
as we walked,
along the river,
I began to see what he meant,
that there were,
lots of voices,
clamoring,
that,
perhaps,
the constant,
cacophony in my head,
could be silenced,
through giving,
voice,
to all those,
voices,
we shall see.
Be well,
all of you.
Later girls,
BB
