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.

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.

health and wellness, lifestyle, Menopause, That girl in the red coat, Women

Taking a pause? *Update*

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Disclaimer * I am not a medical doctor, nor an expert. I’m a woman sharing her story in hopes of helping myself and others. Always educate yourself and speak with your doctor or medical professional

I have an update y’all! It’s been 12 days since my post about the lovely and oh so exciting symptoms of menopause. Since we last met, I have had my follow up with my Doctor, and let me say, this appointment went much better than the first. As I’ve told you, my initial appointment left me feeling unheard, unseen and, well, stupid. I felt a little gaslit to be honest. I asked for, then fought for my bloodwork. I headed over to the lab the minute I left her office, with my bloodwork requisition in hand, along with a mental health questionnaire sponsored by Pfizer (I shit you not, their logo was on the page), that my Doctor wanted me to fill out since I had told her I felt overwhelmed and my get up and go seemed to have gotten up and went. Let me tell you, waiting for my follow up appointment messed me up. How could I not be anxious about my follow up when my initial appointment went so well, and when I saw my estrogen levels weren’t on the bloodwork results. I’m telling you, thank goodness I’ve been healing and dealing this year, because a few years ago, I may have given up on all of this entirely.

So I arrive for my follow up, my little Pfizer packet in hand. I get in the office, hand over my filled out questionnaire to my doctor and take my seat. Being me, I had to speak first. I told her that I had completed the forms as requested and felt a little unheard in my last appointment and didn’t think I was depressed. To my delight and surprise she agreed, (did she read my blog?), and told me that she wanted me to fill out the forms for her own sake, that she knew I wasn’t depressed. She wanted my perspective from outside of the office. She brought up the fact my estrogen levels weren’t taken before I could ask about it. Her opinion was that of, I am 52, I had a hysterectomy (partial) 15 years ago, and from all the other bloodwork, all the results and my described symptoms, hormones were the culprit. She asked me what course of action I wanted to take, as we had discussed them last time. I told her I thought estrogen was my answer, that I wasn’t comfortable with NSRI’s. I know they can help women with the symptoms of menopause such as night sweats, brain fog, etc… . My concern is that is putting a band aid on a gaping wound. What I mean by that is, getting rid of the symptoms may help me sleep better and be more aware during the day, but what about my brain health? My bone health? My cardio health? (I know, I know, I smoke. I have cut down and am actually exercising again… yippee). As women, we need estrogen in our bodies and not just for procreation, thank you patriarchy. Estrogen is a key component in our endocrine system, so, it’s kind of important. FYI – one of the over 80 symptoms of menopause is elevated cholesterol. I left the office feeling heard, feeling seen and my low dose estrogen prescription in hand. We have a 6 week follow up booked to see how I’m feeling and a 6 month full work up booked as well.

I understand HRT (hormone replacement therapy) is scary for most of us to even think about. Mostly because of misinformation and skewed findings in the 1980’s/1990’s – look it up. HRT is not the same for every woman, nor is it for every woman, depending on your history, if you’ve had a hysterectomy or partial as I have had. I do have family history of ovarian and breast cancer, low risk, but still a risk, hence the follow ups with my Doctor. Fast forward to today. I’ve been taking my estrogen for 10 days, I’m sleeping better, I feel more aware and my shoulder pain that was at 90% for over 2 years is at maybe 10% to nonexistent. * Another fun fact – frozen shoulder can be a symptom of menopause. Yes. It’s early days, and maybe it’s all in my head – but isn’t everything? I honestly don’t think it’s in my head, typing that I realized that’s just programming, that as women we are trained to doubt ourselves. Well fuck that shit.

Here’s the deal. Be your own advocate. Listen to yourself. If you feel something is off, it usually is. This is the first time in, well forever, that menopause is being spoken of and actually beginning to get the attention it needs and is deserving of. It is nothing to embarrassed or ashamed of. It’s a natural progression of life, what is not natural is to have to suffer or to have ill health as we age.

Since I began blogging over 12 years ago, I have always professed kindness. To be kind to others, when and if you can. That when you know better, you do better. Well Beauties, today I’m reminding you that being kind to yourself is just as important, hell, it’s of the upmost importance. Taking care of your medical, spiritual, mental and physical health is the kindest thing you can do.