Friday, 27 February 2009

Klingons and Bee Gees

Two weeks ago, I took the plunge and had a little Botox work done on my forehead. I am pleased to say that the results were better than the first time around when I ended up looking like a “before” and “before” photo. Whilst the improvement is subtle and I have no Spocky eyebrow, it is a precursor to the fillers which I am having tonight. The Botox made my eyes water, as it is like being stung by a dozen very angry bees, but it was bearable. However, for the fillers, I have to administer a topical anaesthetic 45 minutes before treatment and cover the area with cling film to improve the efficacy. It somewhat reminds me of Dave in The Full Monty when he sits in the garden shed, covered in cling film and eating chocolate bars. I hope the neighbours don’t spot me coming out of the house with my cling film bandana and, hopefully, I shall only resemble a Klingon before the treatment and not afterwards. Obviously, I will keep you posted on progress.

The night sweats and hot flushes are beginning to escalate and I’m getting pretty fed up with them now, but I still shy away from the dreaded HRT. Instead, I shall make a foray to the health shop to see what weird and wonderful potions they can suggest. Luckily, I don’t have the mood swings that a friend of mine is currently enduring, whereby she feels like kicking everyone and everything in sight and even berated a sausage roll the other day for daring to break up and make a mess on her newly hoovered carpet. I mean, how bad is that?

TRAGEDY!!! (sung in a Bee Gees Falsetto voice.) The weight is still refusing to budge from 9st 2lbs, despite making sure I went to the loo and cut my toenails before climbing on the scales, so I seem to have hit a bit of a plateau. I have to confess that I did scoff two pieces of birthday gateau that someone at work very kindly brought in yesterday as it would be rude not to, together with a couple of digestive biscuits that I had bought as a treat for the rabbit. From the accusatory glare he gave me, I think he must have heard the rustle of the packet. Who said rabbits were thick? The period chart still remains wonderfully scant and I am now into my fourth consecutive month sans bodily functions, so I’ve only got another eight to go before I earn my badge of honour as a fully paid up member of the Menopause Club – Hurrah!

P.S. The photo is of Klingons, not Bee Gees!

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