Thanks, I think I'm going to buy a copy. If I don't like it I can always take it to the halfprice book store and get rid of it--that's when I get up the guts to actually go to the halfprice bookstore. The Hot Flash Club is available online. I shop online a lot now--don't have to drive--don't have to "show" myself to the world--and deal with all of the estrogen rich sales clerks.

Adair--thanks for the recommendation of the "I Hate My Neck" book. I've seen that on the NY Times Best Seller list for weeks--and it did catch my attention--but I was thinking I might be too fragile to read it yet--but perhaps now that I seem to be "resurfacing" into the land of the living--I'm ready to be able to laugh again. Geez--it's been so long since I laughed--don't even use "LMAO" in posts anymore--because it would be a lie. Besides--that would have to be a pretty big laugh to dislodge any of my "A" now that it seems someone inflated it when I wasn't looking.
Now I have to see if I can get over this funny idea I have in my head that sitting and reading is bad. I don't know why I've felt that way. I don't seem to mind sitting at the computer reading--but sitting and reading a book has seemed frivolous to me since I got blind-sided with this menoSTOP (no pause about it--it stopped me dead in my tracks.)
I'm thinking that if I start doing the things I used to do--and enjoy--that perhaps the old sanity will return as well. It's just a theory I've got---and for some reason seems scary to me--for one thing, I have to re-kindle my self discipline and make myself do things--to see if the old me comes back. I've given up so many things I used to enjoy--and I think perhaps that's what I resent the most. I really didn't do anything to deserve this...but then, perhaps I did. I used to take my old self for granted.
Well, that's probably too much information, but as I feel better, I'm starting to feel like a little kid that wants to tell on someone--so they'll get into trouble for the horrible thing they did to me. Only thing is--I don't know who to tell on. I'ts times like this that I remember my Dad telling me, "Life isn't fair." I never really got it until now.
Miss Tibbs