I am 8 months post surgical.
And I will not lie.
It has been one hell of a ride.
Or maybe a ride to hell.
It depends on the day.
I went to see a specialist and she ran blood tests from A to Z.
We discovered ALL my hormones were doing the wrong thing.
My adrenal glands were in stress.
I was low on Iodine. (?what the hell is Iodine right?)
And Vitamin D.
How am I low on Vitamin D,
in the desert,
in July.
I started some very low hormone replacement,
and barrage of 13 different supplement,
and our plan has been set.
Some days are great!!
Some days are terrible.
Truly terrible.
I have been teaching an MMA inspired fitness class since September,
and it (along with my cheerleaders) is a bright spot in my life.
I started this program after my hysterectomy because I had heart break.
And I had anger.
I was so angry.
I was tired of everyone telling me it was going to be ok and God had a plan for me.
I'm aware.
That doesn't make it NOT royally suck.
I started the program because I was bored.
But after the very first day I was hooked.
I didn't have to hold in my anger.
I got to pick an opponent,
and take out all my rage on that opponent.
The opponent I chose was life.
And I got to go into my bonus room and kick its ass every day.
I got to sweat out all of my angst and fury and disappointment
and leave it in a puddle on the floor.
Every woman should find her inner fighter.
Every woman should get the chance to round house kick life to the face.
Every woman should get to picture that stupid kid who stop picking on her kid,
or the asshole who stole her parking spot,
or the same freaking pile of laundry in the same freaking place because apparently men can not learn,
and knee it right in the face.
And smile at it.
Because then she gets to leave it all on the floor and go home happier.
I hate pictures.
I get the necessity.
But bleh.