Menopause...at 27?

While enjoying my morning cup of tea, reading my morning online news, I came across a fitting article for my current "situation". And let me tell you - it is now 9:07am and I have already dosed myself with xanax.

On Monday, 4/23/12, I received a call from my mother stating that she had spoken with my Oncologist. The "good" news (if you'd like to look at it in that light) was that she still did not believe chemo was an option for me. Looks like I would get to keep these beautiful flowing locks of hair after all! Surgery clearly hasn't been working but if that's what I wanted to do, we could try it again. However, the route she wanted to take this time around was Hormone Therapy.

When I first went to Sloan, they stained my tumors for estrogen due to where my Cancer originated. Apparently, the tests showed that my tumors contained high levels of estrogen. This was vital information for my doctors because this would narrow down the type of chemo or treatment options that would be made available to me. Now that this lovely disease has surfaced, yet again, my Oncologist was leaning towards Hormone Therapy for the simple reason that if you get rid of the estrogen in my body, it would, in turn, possibly get rid of the Cancer.

Great. Something other then getting my body sliced and diced for a third time in ten months. But upon learning that she would like me to go for the Hormone Therapy, I realized one thing: it would push me into early Menopause.

The ironic part of this entire thing is that I was never a "kid" person. When a baby would cry or whine or speak or look at me...I would cringe. Get that thing away from me. Now that I'm faced with the ugly truth of never having the option to have a mini version of myself running around with my incredible bone structure, witty personality and God given musical ability...I'm quite devastated. I never really figured that at 27 I would be faced with having to decide if reproducing was more important then I thought it would ever be to me.

Along with having to decide if I should do this Hormone Therapy or more surgery (both of which may either work or not work - which is always the "beauty" of Cancer), I also need to decide if I can really handle all the other side effects that come along with Menopause.

Getting back to the article I was reading this morning, which seemed to only surface due to having hot flashes and weight gain on the brain, I came across an article: 10 Classic Symptoms and Challenges of Menopause.

Ha. Isn't life a little funny bitch? I think so!

After going through these 10 wonderful HORRORS of Menopause, I immediately dove into my bag to feverishly search for that little peach colored pill that always seems to help take my troubles away.

Let me list the "Symptoms and Challenges" stated in this article and you decide if it's something you would particularly enjoy going through...at any age:

1. Mood Swings
2. Vaginal Dryness
3. Aches and Pains
4. Memory Loss
5. Hot Flashes
6. Sleeplessness
7. Low Libido
8. Thyroid Problems
9. Belly Fat
10. Depression

I think I may be single for the rest of my life.

My existing mood swings are already borderline Bipolar so to have these enhanced might seriously have anyone (and everyone) in my life, running for the hills...to jump off.

Vaginal dryness and low libido? I don't even know if I need to go into how heavily these two charming "challenges" will be weighing on my mind. Good thing I went to that sex toy party and grabbed a handful of flavored lubes...

My social drinking and drug use have already beaten down the brain cells that affect memory so when you see me with a notepad hanging around my neck and a hand held tape recorder in my pocket at all times just to remind me where I put my toothbrush, you'll know why.

The wonderful Thyroid problems and belly fat issues are just two more gems to add to this list of things to look forward to being that I have always struggled to look this good (ha)...and now I will apparently need to eat one shred of lettuce and half of a cherry tomatoe per day and attempt to sleep while climbing the Stairmaster from here on out.

Lastly, on a more serious note, for the Depression I already have to be magnified might just throw me into that dreadful group of individuals known as "emo". And I don't mean the real version of emo characterized by music from the 80's that was the epitome of deeply passionate lyrics and romantic bitterness. I'm talking about this New Age kind of crap "emo" where it's cool for guys to wear girls jeans and cut themselves because they have so much rage and angst at, you know, 13 years old (living in the suburbs with caring parents and shopping sprees and the latest iPhone)...with thick black eyeliner and writing sappy poetry about the rain and how it melts their soul.

My appointment is on May 7th. Until then I guess I will be left with the thought of never having a little me running around and instead, will need to deal with being a 50 pound heavier version of myself, sweating to death every 20 minutes while attempting to talk myself off the ledge of my building where I refuse to let my non-boyfriend touch me since I'll have tumbleweeds rolling across the barren desertness of my vag.

Menopause, at 27? SOUNDS GREAT!