Approaching Forty - Part I

Routine mammogram.

This is how it starts. We have these certain milestones in life. Kindergarten. High School. Driver's license. Legal drinking age. Thirty.

I have reached those, though certainly not in that order. I sort of feel like I have already done it all. I am a grandmother. I have been a divorcee, that came before drinking age actually. I left home very young, fifteen. I did not graduate high school, yet I had a career certification before I had my GED. To say I did it all willy-nilly would be a good description, and makes it sound far less convoluted than it really was.

So approaching forty this summer, I am feeling a tad dejected. What is left for me? Oh I know, I am young, there is still much left in the world for me to experience. Goals yet to achieve. Mountains to conquer. Places to go. I just look back and see so much I have experienced that, at my age, I feel I should still have ahead of me. Not that I am complaining. I mean, it is nice to have colonoscopies, health scares and divorce out of the way. And I am certain I have more of the two former in my future, can't wait! And my granddaughter, well she came at a perfect time, because she is in fact perfect in every way. I have quit smoking already. Dozens of times. I have been married three times. (Twice to the same man counting the sacramental ceremony.) Four babies. "Some college". So I am wondering what is left for this been-there-done-that lady. I am still wondering what I want to be when I grow up. I have plenty of time for school and a career, and I might even have time to earn a retirement.

So I was at the doctor yesterday. You know the one. Once a year. She said "Shawnee, you aren't forty yet, but we might as well go ahead and get you going for your routine mammogram." My first thought was, you're damn right I am not forty yet! Don't push me! My second thought was, great, another test to give me anxiety. I know the stats, but keep in mind I have this very rare liver disease, and last fall I had a backache that turned out to be meningitis. I am at that point where I think every little ache and pain is a harbinger of doom. Is it gas? Is it the flu? Is it the end?

Then later I realized- this is my moment. This is the gist of what turning forty is going to mean to me. Routine mammograms. Forty is apparently a magic number, in that it tells you "it is time" for certain things. This could be good. I don't have to think so much about whether or not to do something. Just check my age. Under forty, don't worry; over forty, time to think about it. Whew. I am glad we can simplify, because my memory, it's not so good anymore.

Or maybe it's just a number. We'll see...