And So It Begins (OR My Dowwnward Spiral Into Geezerdom)

Okay, so.  I'm going to be 41 on Sunday.  My eyesight is shit, my joints are starting to ache, and underneath all this color, my hair is mostly white.

And yesterday, I saw my first "Specialist".  I realize I've seen specialists before. My Gynecologist, the doctor who reconstructed my ACL, those are specialists I sought out of necessity.  This is the first specialist I've sought out because of an intermittent problem.  Not something immediate, but maybe becoming a bigger problem.

Yesterday, I saw a Urologist.

Yep, it seems that some of my parts are starting to rebel.  Or, as the nice Doctor put it, "These things happen as you get older. And I hate to tell you, they're only going to get worse."  He was just a little ray of fucking sunshine, that one.  Also, he DIDN'T hate to tell me. He had a big ol' shit eating grin on his face when he said that.

He basically informed me that because I was "Pre-Menopausal" (lying Bastid) I would have more & more difficulties of the UTI kind and that unless I did my exercises that the two, count 'em TWO full-bladder-sneezed-on-my-way-to-the-bathroom incidents that necessitated a wardrobe change would also happen more frequently.  Fan-Freaking-TASTIC!!

THEN he said the thing that I ALMOST could have kicked his ass over: "Yeah, you ladies have it really rough as you get older with all your parts. That's just proof positive to me that God is a Man".  Really Mr. Doctor Man??  No words of comfort, no magical pill, just "Yep, you're screwed, you're gonna get even more screwed (but not in the good, fun way), aaaaaaannnnnnnddddd I'm gonna use this so solidify in my mind that I'm genetically the more superior of the species"

Rotten Braggart Asshole.

I go back to see him in 6 months.