The time has come...

Another day has passed and still no words.

Why?

Is this just another case of writer's block, or is it time to start writing about matters that matter?

There's something about me that you may not know. It's something that has taken so much of my strength to endure, all my powers of positive thinking to come to terms with and every ounce of faith to get through.

It's something I've wanted to tell you from the beginning, but didn't know how to break it to you, or when was the perfect time.

Perhaps now is.

In September 2000, just a few months before my 30th birthday, I went to see my GP (General Practitioner) to get results of a recent blood test. As I waited in the lounge I began wondering what could have caused my periods to cease after I stopped taking the pill six months earlier.

I was a little nervous. You see, what prompted me to have the tests done in the first instance, was a comment made by my mother a week earlier.

We were sitting on the couch, side by side, when I felt a wave of heat come over me. This was not the first time. My cheeks flushed, burning hot, and I tore my jumper (sweater) off quicker than a groom removes his bride's lingerie. Mum jested, "Are you having a hot flush?" and with that, I began to wonder...

For as long as I can remember, Mum often warned me and her nieces of the necessity to procreate early - "If you want to have children, you'd better have them young... women go through menopause early in our family.... my great aunt was 33 when she went through menopause"

Years later I learned that the great aunt story was out by at least a decade. According to my grandmother, said aunt was in her 40's. However I can't help wondering whether the constant reminder of the tale planted a seed that eventually became my truth.

ANYWAY...

"Grace Mimmo!" called my doctor, and I followed her into her room. She read out the blood test results addressing each of my hormone levels. She deduced that I was post menopausal.

POST MENOPAUSAL!!! How was that possible? I hadn't even turned 30!

Everything sounded like it was being projected through jelly (jello) from that point on. Slow motion. Even the voice in my head was dazed, saying over and over - "I can't believe it, it can't be true, it must be a mistake, my mum was right, but I'm too young, this is not possible..."

I must have looked like a zombie as I walked from the clinic to my car. I sat and stared into nothingness. Stunned. Shocked. Desperate.

"What do I do now? Who do I call?" I quizzed myself. "Kylie", I heard myself answer. Isn't that the first sign of insanity? That was the realm I was about to enter.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Until tomorrow, may we all have courage to continue our stories.

Grace xx