communication, Menopause, That girl in the red coat, Women, writing

… I’ve been thinkin’

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As of late, I have found myself lost in thought. So much so I am startled at least twice a day by my family when I walk into or out of a room. We’ve lived together in the same house for 30 years, I should not be surprised there is someone in the house with me. It’s almost, not almost, lets be real, I was totally focused at the tasks at hand for the past 15 years that I didn’t allow myself to slow down and take a moment to take a breath, let alone form a thought. Between my beloved having a heart attack at 39, raising a teenager in the ever changing digital world, mental health struggles for those I hold so dear, job changes, graduations, a little thing called the pandemic, menopause, joining the sandwich generation as the PB & J that holds it together, I lost my thoughts. Not my ability to think mind you, just my thoughts. As I tell my family, much to their chagrin, “They’re my thoughts, not what I’m thinking.”.

There is so much, too much happening in the world right now. So much despair and destruction. So much misunderstanding and misinformation. So much fear. I have two thoughts on fear. The following way sound woo woo to you, hear me out.

#1 – When I speak of the fear, you probably think of job loss, money struggles and food insecurity, along with the multitudes of issues. I used to think of that as well, and some days I still do. Yesterday I had a thought. The fear I’m noticing is the fear of loss of power or creditability. All these people in power, especially the Cheeto – you know who I mean, are behaving like a child on the playground that just found out someone else got a better baseball glove or got the prettiest girl to talk to them and it’s not fair! The minute the attention is off of them for one second, all hell breaks loose. I have news for them all. We die at the end of this. Not a threat. A medical and scientific fact. Those in power, from Presidents to Tech Bros., if all you are doing is looking out for yourself, all you will be remembered for, if you are remembered at all, is for what you did not do. Remembered for the pain you caused and could have tried to end. You’ll be remembered as a liar, someone who did not keep their word and bowed down to the almighty dollar. As for the people in power who “love the lord” as you are watching Washington be painted gold – you’ll be remembered as someone who used religion to get ahead – FYI – that is definitely NOT what Jesus would do – refer to cleansing the temple for more information.

#2 – Fear is used to control people, overwhelm them. Get them to give their attention “over there” and not to the man behind the curtain. Those who know me well, know that yours truly does not like when people try to control me, or anyone else for that matter. Have you ever thought for a moment that not being afraid and having hope, even if it’s for one minute a day, is an act of defiance and solidarity? A true act of self care if you will. Soon your one minute a day turns into 5, then 10 and hopefully into hours. Think about it. Imagine how things could change if we all gave our attention to hope instead of fear. Many may think I have the view of a wide eyed child, and that’s fine, you’re entitled to your opinion. I have too many personal experiences in my life that prove I’m on to something. I’d like to believe things would improve and it would really piss off those who use fear as a tactic – so it’s a win win in my opinion.

If you are able, try to find a moment to get lost in thought – not when driving, but when doing the dishes, taking a bath or brushing your teeth. Before you tune into Netflix, put down the remote and just sit there for a minute or two. Put your cell phone in another room , just for a minute. Your thoughts are chomping at the bit, waiting to be set free, as are you, and as am I.

Get lost in a thought my friends.

health and wellness, Menopause, Women

The Doctor will see you now

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I woke up this morning thinking of a few of my friends. I have a few fabulous women in my life that are really going through it. Different stages. Different issues. Same anxieties and fears. Same feeling of “that they are alone in this.”. It got me to thinking how so many of us are sitting in a crowded room feeling like we are the only ones there. That we’re told, or reared by society to be still. Be quiet. Don’t complain. Be grateful for what you have. Well, that’s all fine and dandy but those are hard pills to swallow when you hear “The Doctor will see you now.”.

I first heard those words at 28 when my body decided to add a growth on my thyroid. We had rented a movie, we had the windows open because central air wasn’t ours yet and I felt a mosquito land on my neck. I went to swat it away and low and behold I felt a lump – 4 cm, thank you very much. We were watching The Green Mile. I shit you not. This is my life. Doctor’s visits. Biopsies. Surgical consults. A hemi thyroidectomy, as the other lobe was healthy and pink. Fast forward 3 years. 31 years old. Sitting in my living room, waiting for hubby to get off a phone call when out of nowhere, I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was being choked. Rush to the ER to find the other lobe felt ignored so it grew a honeycomb of cysts that decided not to drain. 6 cm, thank you very much. Doctor’s visits. Biopsies. Surgical consults. This time around I got to have 12 cc’s of blood drained out of my neck every week until my surgery date. I didn’t mind waiting 3 months – I found out I was going to have the best Otolaryngologist in the province, maybe in the country. Fast forward 6 years, I thought I was lactose intolerant or it was a gall bladder attack. NOPE! Fibroid on my uterus, 20cm x 11cm x 14cm – https://thatgirlintheredcoat.com/2014/10/06/i-thought-it-was-my-abs/ . Again, this is my life. Again, Doctor’s visits. Biopsies. Surgical consults. “The doctor will see you now” became an even mixture of anxiety and hope – a very strange concoction to feel to say the least.

I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m hoping today’s tale might help someone feel less alone. I say it all the time. If more people talked about the things you don’t talk about at parties, the world would be a better place and we would feel less alone.

  • Medical tests are scary. You’re anxious? Good! It means you’re paying attention.
  • Stay Off WEB MD
  • Ask questions. If you don’t understand a word or terminology, say so. There’s no shame in that – this is their profession – not yours.
  • Talk a medical professional – not Chat GPT
  • Keep asking questions until you feel you understand what’s happening.
  • Stay Off WEB MD
  • Reach out to friends. Ask if they know of anyone going through the same thing, or if they have had a medical scare – you’d be surprised how many people are willing to help.
  • DO NOT go down the “should of, could of” road. Trust me. It doesn’t help. Focus on moving forward, because you can’t go back – unless you’re H.G. Wells.
  • Ask for help. Tell your boss what’s going on. Let your neighbors know. Again, you’ll be surprised how many people want to help. People are intrinsically good. They are.
  • It’s ok to cry, scream, pout or just sit there. This is about you and what makes you comfortable – not what makes everyone else comfortable.

I’ll admit, when all of this was happening for me, I had many “why me?” moments. I had days I didn’t want to leave the house because of my scar – kind of hard to hide a 4 inch scar on your neck. As time often does, it taught me why. I’d like to think it was so I can be there for others. A hand to hold. A voice of reason. A listening and sympathetic ear. There were times I felt I was on my own. If I can help one person not feel that way, even for a moment, that’s reason enough for me.

Anything medical can be scary. I’ve found facing my fears made it a little less scary, I said a little less. They say knowledge is power. It is. We cannot control what is happening, but understanding it shines a light under the bed to show there are no monsters there. Be well Beauties. Be well.

beauty, health and wellness, lifestyle, Menopause, Sunday Confessions, Women

Sunday Confessions

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It’s Sunday morning on my corner of the globe. My day began without the shrill of an alarm, the smell of fresh coffee brewing and the sun peeking through the cracks in the blinds. My kind of morning. As I was sipping my coffee I found myself in reflection and question, something that is happening more and more these days. Reflecting on past days and questioning them at the same time. Not in a “did that happen” kinda way, in a “I wonder why” kinda way. As I was walking through the living room, the thought, more a voice in my head to be quite honest was “you should write today.”. So here I am.

Since it’s Sunday, why not return to my Sunday Confessions. They started in 2013, https://thatgirlintheredcoat.com/2013/06/09/sunday-confession/ , on a Sunday morning when I realized I had had it with the bullshit that they try to, and succeed at, feed young girls and women about beauty and self image. I’m sad to say, that in 13 years, not much has changed. They’re still trying to spoon feed us the same rhetoric, disguised as wellness and yes, I’m still sick of the bullshit.

Over the past weeks, I have seen and heard women who I deem fabulous cut themselves down to size, a size that they are told they should be. They’re doing too much. They’re doing too little. They’re overweight. They’re underweight. They’re not getting enough protein – don’t even get me started on that one. The list goes on, I’d give myself carpel tunnel if I listed them all. Oh, and trust me when I say, I’m not immune to the above. Just this morning, I almost didn’t make an iced coffee to accompany me at my laptop. Yup. My favorite morning treat, a fabulous mix with a splash of caramel coffee creamer, and I almost didn’t make it because of a shitty comment made about women and their “midlife mid section”. Thankfully my true voice stepped forward and said “Fuck that Shit!” and here I am sipping and typing away.

To be clear, huge fan of health, wellness and longevity. What I’m not a fan of? Using them as some sort of holy trinity. Using them as a weapon or marketing tool used to disempower instead of empower. Making women feel like they are failing at life because they aren’t tracking their daily protein intake – for Christ’s sake Sharon – I can barely track my thoughts some days. Another thing that burns me up? Too many “experts” and “life coaches” giving great advice that makes you start feeling “I can do this” and then hitting you up with a price tag. FYI – most of your audience does not have a discretionary fund at their beckon call. Most are just trying to survive and do the best they can with what they have. The click bait is astounding to me. Listen, I’ve been in sales and customer service for over 35 years, and these suckers are good! Half the time, I don’t see the sales pitch coming. Good for them, but not so good for us.

As a lover of lists, I’ve compiled a little something for all my 40 plus gals. A how to if you will. I’m not an expert, nor am I a life coach. I’m just a woman trying to keep on keepin’ on, as most of us are.

  • If you are able, go get your bloodwork done. Check your blood pressure. Give yourself a base line. – I understand that depending which country you live in, a medical visit may cost you. Another reason I’m grateful for Canadian healthcare – to the haters – not now.
  • Take what you will from a Tik Tok /Instagram post, with a grain of salt. If it interests you, do a bit more research. My favorite go to is the Mayo Clinic website.
  • Before you try any new supplement/regime – make sure there are no medication absorption disruptions. I’m on thyroid hormone since I don’t have one anymore and you’d be surprised how may supplements I can’t take because they interfere with my medication. Disruption = a really bad couple of days. “Your skin looks terrific!” – “Thanks! I feel like shit and can’t get off the toilet!” – what’s the point of that?
  • Water supplements/ flavor enhancers – those sneaky buggers – some have fine print that states “do not take within 3 hours before or after certain medications.” – Your water may taste great but it could give you heart palpations. I don’t know about you, but those aren’t the heart flutters I want.
  • You do not need to get a second job to take care of yourself. Close your Amazon cart, go to the kitchen, pick up two soup cans, and lift them as you go up and down your stairs. Eat an apple.
  • Sit down, Lower your shoulders. Breathe in deep through your nose. Hold for the count of 2. Exhale through your mouth. Even once and you’ll feel a little more at ease. *If you feel emotional after you do this – that’s ok! You’re releasing my friend.
  • If you can tell the barista about your hemorrhoids, I think you can talk to a licensed professional about your concerns “down there”.
  • Stop calling any body part below your navel “down there”. If you can look up the newest slang on Urban Dictionary, you can look up the proper names/terms for your body.
  • You do not need to have the latest and greatest wellness tool to matter.

Take it easy on yourself. Try your best to do what is best for you today. You miss a day? There is always tomorrow. Trust me when I say this, the people who matter don’t give shit if your skin is glowing, they want to see you spirit glowing. The ones commenting on your appearance – they’re selling something – they are not your people. The ones who compliment your appearance – those are your people.

Be kind, to yourself. Plain and Simple.

health and wellness, lifestyle, Menopause, music, Women, writing

Best of days

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August 1st, 2026. My 54th birthday. A day like any other, planned with precision to be exactly that. Booked time off from my two part time jobs. It’s a long weekend in my neck of the woods, and as a birthday present to myself, I added a day or two to the long weekend. I am moving at a snail’s pace, which is odd for me. My family has a running joke. “You complete your to do list by 9am. What are you going to do with the rest of your day?”, so, it’s safe to say, this is not my norm.

The past seven summers have been a blur, between moments that could have changed my life forever, lockdowns, getting Covid for my 50th birthday, job changes, job losses, care taking and losing track of doctor appointments and hospital visits, it’s all become a blur and the past seven years have all melted together into this big memory blob. Who knew I’d be thankful for Facebook memories and Instagram archives, if not for them, I’d have no idea what happened when and where.

I woke up to no alarm, with hot coffee waiting for me. My favorite perfume wrapped and waiting for me, Clinique Happy. The sun pouring through all the windows. Messages from loved ones, texts wishing me the best of days. Those wishes came to fruition, as it was the best of days. Slow and steady, visiting my folks, weekly grocery store run, a walk with my daughter, our favorite dinner and a chocolate McCain cake. I couldn’t have asked for more.

All day yesterday, my mind kept wandering back to this thought, why is it we only wish people the best of days on special occasions, like birthdays, anniversaries and weddings? Don’t get me wrong, being remembered with well wishes on my birthday was wonderful, and I treasure those who took time out of their day to remember me. I keep finding myself going back to my thought yesterday, why do we wait for celebrations to wish those we know to have “the best day ever!”. I think we should offer such well wishes everyday.

Think how wonderful it would be to hear “Hope today is your best day ever!” on a Monday as you’re about to present a new idea to your boss. “May all your wishes come true today!” as you’re wheeling a loved one to another appointment at the hospital. “Make a wish!” as your strolling through a park looking up at the trees swaying in the breeze. How wonderful to hear your phone ring and to hear “Wanted to call quick and wish you a wonderful day! Love you!” on a Wednesday afternoon, just because.

The world lost a beautiful soul last week. Glen Hansard. I’ve been listening to his music on repeat. At first it made me cry. Now it fills me with hope. I can’t explain it, it just does. Listening to his music, I find myself remembering myself – a journey I’ve been on a while now. Maybe it’s my age, maybe it’s the state of the world, maybe it’s menopause, our 50’s are weird. I find myself returning to myself, the me who I was before the world got at me. The me who celebrated everything, for everyone, from birthdays to conquering a new recipe or facing a fear as big as a career change to as small as climbing to the top of a ladder. Something in me always wanted to make people feel seen, to stand up to the bully, to celebrate any and all accomplishments. Not every day can be the best of days, but I do believe as a child believes in fairies, that we can make at least one moment of everyday the best of days for ourselves and for others. Holding the door. Smiling as you walk by another. An “You’re Awesome!” gif sent to a friend. A memory sent to remind others of a great time. An iced coffee that’s the perfect color – if you know, you know.

As I type this, it’s raining outside. The kind of rain that makes you want to stay home with a cup of tea, a cozy blanket and a good book. It’s like Mother Nature got my memo about slowing down. I’m wearing my birthday present. Clinique Happy. A scent I adore and gave up in my 30’s for a reason I cannot fathom. Fresh Lemonade on my desk as I write. My wordsmith playlist playing. A cardinal landing beside my window for the flash of a second – hi Gramma. The best of days. I wish the same for you.