Has Anyone Seen My Pants? by Sarah Colonna Read Free Book Online Page A

maybe even speed it up? I don’t really need to have my period, it just gets in the way.”
    “I really don’t think you’re experiencing menopause. But it might be something hormonal . . .”
    “Yeah, something hormonal would be menopause!” I told her as if I was the one with the medical degree.
    “All right,” she said, trying to politely get more information out of me, “we can do some hormone testing.”
    “Great. Oh! And I’m also coughing a lot at night. Like I wake myself up coughing this dry, awful cough.”
    “Huh. Really? Are you also coughing during the day?” sheasked in what sounded like the tone of someone who’s taking notes, yet she wasn’t holding a clipboard or even a pen.
    “A little, but it’s worse at night.”
    “Sarah, I think you have the flu.”
    “Is that also a sign of early menopause?”
    “No, it’s a sign of the flu.”
    “I don’t think that’s what I have.”
    “Are you also a little more tired than usual?” she asked, still seemingly making check marks on her mental notepad.
    “Well, yes, but that’s because I’m not getting a lot of sleep since I keep waking up sweating and coughing because of the me-no-pause ,” I explained slowly.
    “ Or it’s because you have the flu. There’s a nasty strain going around right now. I’ll prescribe you something that will help ease the symptoms, and if that plus a couple days of rest doesn’t take care of it, you can come back and tell me more about your menopause.”
    “I guess we can give that a try for now, but I’ll probably be back soon for those tests,” I replied, eyeing her skeptically.
    “Can’t wait.” She smiled and handed me a prescription.
    About five days later, I received a call from her office, checking in to see how I was feeling.
    “I’m okay,” I said to the receptionist, not wanting to fully admit that my menopause symptoms had completely cleared up since they had been treated with a flu remedy and some rest. “For now, anyway . . .”
    “Okay, I will let the doctor know your flu is gone,” he said.
    “That’s not what I—”
    “See you for your next annual checkup, Sarah!” he said cheerily, and hung up.
    Ugh, the whole office was so smug with the whole “flu” diagnosis. I sort of wished there was a way to catch menopause just so I could go back and tell her that her medical degree was no match for my superior Internet research skills.
    If you think I learned to stop self-diagnosing after this incident, you are mistaken.
    A couple of months later, I was feeling like I was being extra bitchy to people, so I decided to go to the doctor to find out what was behind it. I opted not to go to my gynecologist this time, fearing she might say something practical, like “Just stop being so bitchy,” so I asked around and located a doctor who specialized in hormone testing. I figured this way, when someone accused me of being a bitch, I could blame it on a condition that was out of my hands, and in turn make them feel bad for picking on me while I was sick and possibly dying.
    The doctor’s office was located in Beverly Hills on the tenth floor of a ten-floor building, so I assumed this doctor was no shit. I mean, that’s like the equivalent of living in the penthouse, you know? However, when I arrived I was slightly disappointed to see that it was a tiny office and there were boxes piled up everywhere, leaving little room for seating.
    “Are you guys moving?” I asked the receptionist.
    “No,” she said flatly, not acknowledging the large box overflowing with papers on top of her desk. “Just bring this backto me when you’re finished filling it out,” she continued as she handed me a clipboard full of forms.
    I sat down on one of the two sad plastic chairs in the “waiting room” and propped my feet up on a box while I filled out the standard intake forms. I usually fly right through the columns, knowing the answer to all of them is “no,” because I don’t have any