Today I went to the Lady Doctor after a considerable extended holiday. And that is no excuse, but I wasn't having any problems so it wasn't a big deal. After my FIL passed away last month, I decided to make my health more of a priority. So I booked in. And she's literally next to a Pottery Barn, so I thought, "Sweet! Then I'll go to Pottery Barn and consider redecorating my entire house."  It sounded like a great idea in my head. 

Between booking the appointment and going to the appointment - I kind of started freaking out about it. I hadn't gone to see my doctor in years. Like since the fall of 2014. Shameful. I've easily gained 30 pounds since the last time I was there. She was clearly going to talk to me about gaining all this weight and about menopause. AND since I made the mistake of googling MENOPAUSE, that shit has been following me around and stalking ME with with every menopause problem ever on social media. Bitches.

I barely slept. But I still showed up. I filled out my paperwork. I rocked paper gown. 

All that worry was for nothing. My uterus is up high doing it's job. And she told me that menopause is not inherited - so just because my Mom started menopause at 45 does not mean I'm menopausal since I'm 45. She told me I don't have to worry about my hormones as long as I'm still having a period. She is, however; trying to strong arm me into a mammogram. She basically said see you next year and I happily marched onward to Pottery Barn.