And the cervix of a 19 year old…

I’ve always looked young for my age. I’d be the only one left out of the bar, as my friends filed in giggling and giddy on rum and coke Slurpees, with their fake ID and shoveled on make-up. The bouncers would laugh at me and tell me to go home to my mommy.

I was still being carded at the beer store when I was 30.

My gynecologist told me, just a few years ago, that she would never of guessed that I had 3 children because I have the cervix of a 19 year old. It was a strange compliment and not the kind you can call all your friends to brag about really but I skipped home joyfully just the same.

Yesterday, I was feeling particularly effected by the endless side effects of the Prednisone or possibly the Actonel that I am taking to help protect me from the side effects of the Prednisone…or the pills I’m taking to ward off the side effects of the Actonel… whatever.

I was feeling terrible and looking remarkably pregnant for a non-pregnant person so I went off to the grocery store in search of leafy greens, dried fruit and fiber. When I reached the cash, the owner started his usual chit chat which would normally bore me to tears but I’ve been starved of human contact lately so I entertained it. We were in mid mundane weather talk when he wondered rather abruptly,

“Are you married?”
“Married? Are you married? I never see you with a man, only your children.”

I haven’t been out of the house in a while, is he concerned or flirting?

“Oh, no…I’m not married. I have a boyfriend. I’m not married.”

“Do you live together?”

“No…no we don’t”

He smiles broadly and starts in about what I do for fun, how often do I see my boyfriend, do I like being a single mother and what am I planning to cook with the dried prunes etc…

Then he talks about how he would like kids and starts listing off the qualities he is looking for in a woman.

He is flirting! How fun! I think I can remember how to do this.

I smile back, toss my hair over my shoulder and make a few witty remarks, laughing contagiously and annoying the person waiting in line behind me to no end. Then the cashier comes right out with:

“I like older women.”

“Excuse me?”

He grins and gives me this you-know-what-I’m-talking-about-that’s-right-YOU look with a raise of the eyebrow and everything!

“I like older women, real women. I don’t like young girls. Older women have life experience, it’s very attractive.”

I refrained from letting my face fall immediately after the words left his lips. I refrained from clubbing him over the head with my bag of avocados. I refrained from screaming “I have the cervix of a 19 year old!!” in the grocery store.

I just took my box of bran and my produce, wished him a great day and good luck finding is dream woman and made my way gracefully out of the store and back home to take my 10 pills and a tablet of osteoporosis medication before getting cozy on the couch with a glace of prune juice and this month’s issue of O magazine, just in time for Dr. Oz.

Older women…pft!

Jennifer June

By possible mood swings you mean feeling increasingly stabby right?

I thought that I would come home with this amazingly serene feeling, post-hospital epiphany in tow. After all, my life flashed before my eyes and what have you.

When I was still in, I lay playing with the controls of my foldy bed, thinking long and hard about what would happen if I just died, right now. What if I never get the chance to do all of the things I wanted to do? What if that was it?

*insert Peggy Lee singing – Is that all there is*

I’m not complaining. OK, maybe I am, but only a little. I’m happy to be home. I’m thankful I’m on the road to recovery. It could have been so much worse. I appreciate life in a whole new way and all that great stuff too! It’s just that I’m a bit surprised and maybe a tiny little bit disappointed that I’m not more…excited, rejuvenated or inspired or something.

I was sure I would come home and write a 6 foot long bucket list but so far “never leave the house with dirty laundry in the hamper” is the only task that has made it on there.

I was sure I would come home and take life by the balls but I’m still too tired to take the salad bowl off the fridge and put it up in the cupboard.

I was sure I would come home full of love and tenderness for absolutely everyone on earth but instead I feel intolerant and bitchy and occasionally overcome by the urge to stab somebody in the eye with a plastic fork.

I blame these steroids they have me on. They keep me in this walking coma and are starting to make me seriously doubt my sanity.

Some of the possible side effects include mood swings,anxiety, irritability, frequent urination, blurred vision, increased appetite and insomnia.

So, basically picture me half blind, sleep deprived (averaging 3 hours of sleep at night), paranoid, anxious, short-fused and starving, with the constant feeling of urgency nagging at my bladder.

I’m SO fun to hang out with!!

So Zen.

So full of love and tenderness.

Jennifer June