I promised I’d tell you about the 9:45 a.m. phone call that got me out of bed yesterday.
The call was from my doctor with the results of a recent blood test. Not to worry, the diagnosis was not of a disease and it’s something very common. Just not for me. So I’m bracing myself.
The test results foretell change swirling about our house. All I can do now is wait. For mood swings, hot flashes, maybe a mustache. I have already started losing my thick hair. And now I’ll be growing hair where I don’t want hair. Like on my chin.
I apologize to those with delicate sensibilities for the indelicate subject today. But I also thank the creators of All in the Family who, in 1970, brought a taboo subject into American homes, and playwright Jeanie Linders, who turned a horrific condition into a Broadway musical.
My husband isn’t sure what to make of it all. His first question had to do with the mood swings: “How is this going to differ from how you already are?” At least he didn’t ask that about the mustache.
Word Nymph 