Menopause

Like becoming a parent for the first time, nobody tells you the whole truth about menopause either. Why do women conspire, to not necessarily hide, but neglect to tell you what it may be like in a practical sense? They are doing their own a mighty disservice.

Some women will breeze through it with little or none of the dreaded side effects of losing your hormones. Others will battle on with it for years, some may be able to take HRT or other “natural” medications, and power to those who can, just beware of the increased risk of breast cancer from long term usage. Some of us can’t and get the most out of our daily lives, within the limitations our bodies place on us.

I’m no scare-monger, I just want to be told the truth, all of it.

So here’s my take on “instant” menopause.

Signs of menopause

You swap your monthly sanitary protection for daily incontinence products.

You hear the call of nature, but can’t answer it in time.

You fear coughing, sneezing and laughing.

In the supermarket queue, you want to beat a complete stranger into a pulp because they dared to ask if they could go in front of you, after all, they have only 2 items!

You forget what you’re talking about mid-sentence.

You can’t think of particular words and have trouble describing the word you’re looking for.

You continually put things in a “safe place” then can’t remember where any of your safe places are.

You wonder why the toilet paper won’t fit in the fridge.

You wonder why your pre-wash spray won’t kill flies.

You can’t remember anybody’s name (including your family), even though you’ve known them for years, or you’ve just been introduced.

You write multiple lists for everything.

You always manage to leave your lists home that you should have taken with you.

You forget appointments, even when they are clearly written in your diary and on the calendar.

You do the “hokey pokey” all night with your bedding.

A sheet is too much bedding.

You suffer insomnia and then don’t get more than 1 hours sleep at a time.

You wonder why everyone around you is so damned incompetent.

You wonder how drivers got or keep their licences.

You can’t do more than simple jobs in the garden or else your head will explode.

Your scalp oozes perspiration that runs down you back and drops off the end of your nose.

You sweat around the eyes.

People worry when after the simplest tasks your face turns beetroot.

Mowing the lawn is a major achievement, after which you need a shower and complete change of clothes.

You can’t enjoy a hot drink, a glass of wine, hot soup of a curry because you’re frightened your head will explode.

Your joints ache.

You take evening primrose oil in an effort to relieve hot flushes, only to get diarrhea, and you still have hot flushes.
You realise that PMS and placenta brain have nothing on menopause.


Wednesday 26 May 2004

AC2 – Day 1

Took J to Kindergym.

I’m supposed to test drive a van this morning. H still thinks we should get a blue car as it’s cool.

12 noon – onc for second chemo treatment.

Kindergym ran over time so I didn’t leave until 10.22am. had to race home, drop J off and go test drive the Tarago. It is very nice to drive, you sit up high, but don’t feel like you’re climbing into it. It runs very quietly too.

Then had to race home gather up J and DH and head off to our friends. J settled in quickly, especially when there was a cat to “chase”.

Got the clinic with 5 mins to spare.

My bloods were OK from mid cycle, although the white count was down a little more than normal. I mentioned about all the dryness of skin etc, but there’s not much than can be done – I can’t drink much more than I am – well over the 2 litres a day. He wasn’t concerned about the puffiness in my left forearm.

Went into clinic, and it was almost a full house (ended up being that way) and had blood drawn. Ate a sandwich and had a choc milk. Was given the anti-emetics, then Adriamycin, then cyclophosphamide – it took about 2.15 to 2.30. Found that the tube was a bit bent in my arm. Left at about 2.35-2.40pm and we drove back to our friends. J had been very good and played well. He was a bit tired though and ended up sleeping in the car for about 30 mins.

I had soup for tea.

Took stemetil before bed.

Next treatment is 11am 16 June 2004.