Transmissions and Transitions

This week my car AND my uterus required immediate attention. And so I got to thinking about the similarities and stresses involved with getting an indicator light on BOTH in the same week. I took a day off to take care of them--even though going to the mechanic and the OBGYN on the same day--is pretty much every gal's nightmare. It had to be done.

Let's take them one at a time. (And in order of least uncomfortable to write and/or read about.) First up--engine #1. I love my car--I don't have kids or pets--this is it. I'm a BMW woman. I love to drive fast. I take care of this car--wash it, watch where I park it, etc. I got already got one indicator light earlier this month--$500 for some pumps and hoses. So when this second indicator light came on blaring "service engine soon" I thought--okay, must need regular maintenance? I'll take it in next month--it was just in. I popped out the book with my maintenance records and as I paged through the car manual, I read that that light didn't mean "regular maintenance." It means--get yer expensive German car to the doctor quick--something is rotten in Dusseldorf. So I did.

When I went to pick up my baby at the mechanic's--I was trying to think positively. Or I was in total denial. I thought it was probably something like a gasket or whatever those control arm bushing things are. (See while I love to drive BMW's I know nothing about what makes them go vroom-vroom.) But as I walked up to Louis the mechanic,  it was as though everything suddenly switched to slow-mo. I heard him say "Looks like you're gonna need a new transmission"--but I thought if I keep smiling and don't get upset maybe he'll rephrase that with better news.

I said (with a smile) "Yeah, but it only has 76 thousand miles on it!" He ignored the smile--which by now had turned into a psychotic-looking smile with glazed-over eyes. "It could go out in two days, two months, or a year. My advice--sell it. Don't hit the pedal too hard so you don't get another check engine light and sell it."  I'm sorry? What did you just say? Is there any other way to drive a BMW--than to pound the
0-to-60-in-3-seconds-pedal to the floor? Sell it? Huh?

So there it was. My baby--named "Sterling Silver" by my little niece (she names my exes and my cars) was DOA. Or at least--not long for my world. I drove little Sterling home. Even rubbed it's dash--asking it to be good for me as we rode along at 24 mph. I came home and sat in a daze at how unbelievably crappy my luck has been lately. Financially--I really can't afford this right now. But really...WHAT ELSE???

An hour later, as I waited in the exam room for the new doctor (always searching for a new OB aren't we?) I thought about my car. I can't sell it knowing it's got a bad gut--I have a conscience. I still owe on it--more than it's worth anyway. I still love the car and have put so much into it? (door opens) GREAT. Time to get MY engine checked.

New doctor is nice. I'm always a little weirded out by male gynos--I ditched the last one (see previous post) who seemed ultra nervous and stood in the corner 5 feet from my vagina after the exam. But I may have hit the male OB jackpot on this one. HE'S GAY. I love that in the first few minutes of the exam he mentioned his "partner" and the two children they adopted from China. Both me and my uterus relaxed. No risk of the rogue perv male gyno.

But then the conversation turned to..."So let's talk about what we're going to do about those fibroids?" An earlier test revealed my barren womb wasn't entirely barren--it was giving birth to blobs. I give the poor thing an A for effort--for trying to do what it's supposed to do: not be empty. "I think you need to go on birth control pills until you go through menopause." I heard him saying this--but again--I had that same weird, hollow smile on my face as I did earlier in the day waiting for him to offer another option. Really? The pill? Leave it to my life to require birth control pills, when there's absolutely no birthing of any kind to control. Nor any pre-birthing action. Nada. Hollow hormones at work.

I walked out of there with my little prescription in hand. And my still-tagged BMW key in hand. Wondering if I should just drive the car and my problem uterus off a cliff? Or--lease a Mustang and slut it up? I came home and rounded out this day of intestinal upheaval by immediately going to Google. The news wasn't good. Yes it's possible for a BMW with only 77K on it to need a new transmission. I'm one of seven percent of BMW owners surveyed who fit that classification. You really can't make this shit or those odds up. That--and the search results revealed a rebuilt transmission will be a GM engine and cost 4K. Wow. Maybe taking some extra hormones will do me some good to balance out the fits of road rage I'm going to be experiencing in the near future as I drive my AstroBeemer?

When I Googled that--(hormones, not road rage) I was immediately faced with a laundry list of side effects--and for someone 48--including blood clots, bloating and acne. I stared at my computer screen, thinking the odds are slim those will happen to me--but then I remember the BMW survey--and the "slim odds" you'll need a new transmission at only 77K. So what do I do? I can't afford to fix it. Or buy a new one. I don't want blood clots. Or a rebuilt anything! And BTW--why is life so cruel--really, more acne? I didn't even use the damn thing? Can't I just cruise through menopause? Pedal to the metal? I'd happily take a uterus rebuilt by GM. Seriously. Those suckers come with a 6 year warranty--that'll take me into my 50's!

Looking under the hood is a good thing. If you know what's wrong--you can find solutions and fix it. I turned off the computer. I'll get a second opinion on the car--and my girlie parts. I popped the first pill--a little sad I don't have my committed boyfriend to have some committed fun with. (you knew that was coming.) And while I"m pretty sure I experienced about ten of the top 20 side effects that night--I'm trying to be fearless. I'm trying to let go. I'm trying to trust. Maybe it'll be good for me? Besides we're all driving on borrowed time. Right?