The Shit No One Tells You About Life After 40

I remember thinking 40 sounded old when I was a kid. I figured life would be pretty near over once I reached that age. I really had no basis for thinking it, except that I just couldn't conceive ever getting to that age. Oh, about the time 30 rolled up on me I was back pedaling like mad on that position.

I've gained weight, had two sons, gotten divorced, lost weight and found myself all in the past two decades. Twenty freaking years - I'm a young person times two according to my former childhood perceptions. Woopteefuckingdoo!

I had no idea - none whatsoever, that shit started going wrong with a person's body at 40. Ok, for me it was in my mid-30s. I had digestive issues crop up out of seemingly nowhere, after a life of eating anything and everything I wanted with no consequence. Freaking onion allergy. Of course, I somehow develop an onion allergy. It couldn't be something more tolerable like oh, I don't know, chickpeas? Nope, I got onions. Four years later I stopped eating gluten. Six years after that I decided to try an elimination diet, because well, I hadn't experienced enough hell with food. I lost a ridiculous amount of weight for my size, and while that sounds like a good thing, it sucked. 

My once full and perky breasts now hang, somewhat deflated in appearance. Sure they still look good 'for someone who's in their 40s', but come on, I wasn't ready to let go of those puppies just yet. I've temporarily abandoned that diet because my ass was starting to shrink as well. Thankfully I work out because there'd be nothing holding my skin from sagging. I can lose my boobs, they've run the gamut in size over the years, but my ass, now that just isn't happening. 

Speaking of ass, no one told me about the hell of hemorrhoids. I had my first experience with that lovely condition when I was pregnant with my second child. I was completely and absolutely horrified! Wasn't I too young for that? I didn't engage in ass sex and I thought I refrained from straining on the can, so how could I have hemorrhoids?!?

After I gave birth they eventually went away, or so I thought. When my digestive issues took a turn for the worst ... they were back. With a vengeance. Sure, I'd had minor flare ups over the years, but nothing that stuck around for days and hurt like hell. When it got to be an every couple of weeks issue, I finally talked to my doctor. She referred me to a specialist and three weeks later, I had a date to have them removed. All of them. Even the ones that hadn't thrombosed.

So, here I am, a day post-op doing relatively well. I wrote most of this while sitting in a god-awful plastic, upside down hat looking sitz bath — for the second time today. That's a lovely image, isn't it. I've been distracting myself and amusing my boyfriend with details of the healing process. Most men would be completely turned off by the fact that I've shared some pretty graphic details, and while I doubt that he's even remotely turned on by any of it (that'd be freakishly weird), he's not scared off by my being human and having a not-so-attractive-human-experience.

One of the fabulous things I've shared is that I'm currently like an older lady letting the wind fly without a care while I walk around shopping. I'm neither old (by my today standards) and I'm not even thinking about shopping, but my poor bottom just can't control itself at the moment. I am quite happy it's just gas. It's not likely I would rush to text the bf if I suddenly shit my pants, but the tooting and the sitz baths, as well as these sexy hospital underwear, well, those things are relatively amusing.

So far, the pain has been minimal. I've decided to forego the Dilaudid and stick to just Advil and Tylenol, though I may rethink that before bed. Right now I'm sitting on an icepack that's warmed up a bit too fast - and wondering if I'm going to be reduced to tears when I finally do have to shit. Until then, I suppose I'll find as much humor as I can in the fact that I pulled myself off a diet that was causing me to lose my ass, and then I chose to have part of it surgically removed. It's going to be worth all the discomfort, gaseous emissions and time it will take to heal. And then I'll be on to the age spots I see popping up here and there. The drooping skin above my knees and the undeniable signs that peri-menopause is just around the bend. Now that's going to be a hoot-and-a-half to write about!