Please tell me I'm not old enough for menopause. Seriously. Lie if you must.
There I was, moving books out of the coffee table in the living room, then moving the coffee table. I strolled to the foyer to put Mom's surprises in the "Others' Belongings" box when all of a sudden (TMI alert), it felt like I was losing control of the bladder. Being the dainty, subtle little thing that I am, I squalled out, "Oh my God! I'm peeing!" and ran for the bathroom. Not quite pottiness. It seems that the headaches weren't just random, they were predictors of 'that time of the month'. Oh joy. I've been so regular that on the 28th day, I'm counting the seconds. In the last 6 months or so, it's been 23 to 32 days apart. I'd thought it was just Hubby coming back, his testosterone messing with my estrogen. I'd read in National Geographic about how pheremones can goof with menstral cycles, even putting all the women in an office on the same schedule.
Hubby did wonder if I was PMSing, since I'd mowed the yards, cleaned up on the garage, cleaned out the laundry room completely, and vacuumed, then shop-vacced the kitchen. Yesterday, I'd done the heavy vacuum in the bathrooms and master bedroom, after cleaning the bathrooms top to bottom. Since Fry was home from school again today, she helped me shred old financial papers. We filled two lawn and leaf bags with the shreddings, yet, there's still a box left to do. I and Fry are also going through her school papers, grade AND pre.
Could it be anything else? If it is, I'm certain Dr. OB/GYN would have caught it by now. Who knew a gal could be ultrasounded so many ways?? Jeeze.
Binky night night time. It's almost Friday!