A verse came to mind the other night, as I was laying in my bed awaken yet again by 'The New Age'. The verse kept unfolding into something painfully familiar, but since my brain is fried with sleepless nights, it took me a while to remember where I'd heard it before. So here is my version of the popular poem, without its happy ending, I am afraid...
Do you like
Hot Flash and Sweats?
I do not like
Hot Flash and Sweats.
Would you like them
Here or there?
I would not like them
here or there.
I would not like them
anywhere.
Would you like them
in your bed?
Would you like them
make you red?
I do not like them
in my bed.
I do not like them
make me red.
I do not like them
here or there.
I do not like them
anywhere.
I do not like Hot Flash and Sweats.
I do not like this Meno-duet!
Would you like them
on a date?
Would you like them
with a friend?
Not on a date.
Not with a friend.
Not in the bed.
Don’t make me red.
I would not like them here or there.
I would not like them anywhere.
I do not like Hot Flash and Sweats.
I do not like this Meno-duet!
Would you? Could you?
In a car?
Get them! Get them!
Here they are.
I would not,
could not,
in a car!
You may like them.
You will see.
You may like them
When you pee.
I would not, could not when I pee.
Not in a car! You let me be.
Say!
In the dark?
Here in the dark!
Would you, could you, in the dark?
I hate them, hate them
in the dark.
Would you, could you,
in the rain?
I would not, could not, in the rain.
Not in the dark. Not on a train,
Not in a car, Not while I pee.
I really hate them, don’t you see?
Not in my bed. Not getting red.
Not on a date. Not with a friend.
I will not have them here or there.
I do not like them anywhere!
You do not like
Hot Flash and Sweats?
I really hate this Meno-duet.
And while a full night sleep is still just a hope, I am finding a new calling - poetry!
Monday, September 12, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Perimenopause, Interrupted
As fate and my body would have it, March was a strange month: I've had all of three days of something that resembled a proof of womanhood (chafing included), four full weeks of sleep, no hot flashes! I was so excited, I forgot to continue writing my blog. Maybe, I was afraid I'd spook my luck!
My stomach pains disappeared overnight and so did my muscle pains. It was a miracle! I searched in my rejuvenated mind for clues, I tried remember precisely the types of Gods I was praying to the month before (couldn't nail one, I am afraid), the supernatural ingredients in my diet (the only thing I'd added was seaweed) - anything that made this wonder happen. I found articles that claim that the miserable path to menopause can last as little as one year. I daydreamed that it would be me.
I waited. And waited. And I called it upon myself. For sure.
It came back, as swift, as taxes. And some!
I managed to discover one more symptom - the chills. Not the cold sweats that cover your body after the hot flash. These come and go as unannounced and as random. It's like jumping stark naked into ice water where not a cell in your body seems to be higher than 50F. As my hypothalamus tried to send extra signals to re-establish the temperature balance, my hormones (which I imagine as tiny mean gnomes dressed in green running up and down my blood vessels) work up another turmoil and throw my lovely me into a hot flash. Talk about a buzz kill.
My car really appreciates it when I run the heater on high followed by A/C on very high.
Well, the bright side is I had a break. AND I know that my car battery is working well.
My stomach pains disappeared overnight and so did my muscle pains. It was a miracle! I searched in my rejuvenated mind for clues, I tried remember precisely the types of Gods I was praying to the month before (couldn't nail one, I am afraid), the supernatural ingredients in my diet (the only thing I'd added was seaweed) - anything that made this wonder happen. I found articles that claim that the miserable path to menopause can last as little as one year. I daydreamed that it would be me.
I waited. And waited. And I called it upon myself. For sure.
It came back, as swift, as taxes. And some!
I managed to discover one more symptom - the chills. Not the cold sweats that cover your body after the hot flash. These come and go as unannounced and as random. It's like jumping stark naked into ice water where not a cell in your body seems to be higher than 50F. As my hypothalamus tried to send extra signals to re-establish the temperature balance, my hormones (which I imagine as tiny mean gnomes dressed in green running up and down my blood vessels) work up another turmoil and throw my lovely me into a hot flash. Talk about a buzz kill.
My car really appreciates it when I run the heater on high followed by A/C on very high.
Well, the bright side is I had a break. AND I know that my car battery is working well.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Teeter-totter, pull-push
Have I mentioned that I hate getting old? There are several reasons:
a. Vanity - as I painfully observe myself in the mirror, I begin to reconsider my no-plastic-surgery-age-gracefully policy;
b. Pain - I am a Perpetuum Mobile of aches, numbness, needle pricks, burning, stinging, stiffness and I am sure I am forgetting something else.
c. Menopause - the hourly reminder of my overstaying my welcome in the womanhood is annoying! It's either a brain-freeze, or a hot flash or a mood swing (ooh, I've re-defined those!)
Up until 2 years ago I planned to age gracefully. I was looking at the pictures of Audrey Hepburn imagining myself entering the world of wisdom where negative emotions cease to exist due to their futility. I would come to accept the superficial changes because they would be replaced with my inner peace.
I have no idea where that bullshit idea came from but I was looking forward to it. At a MUCH later day, than my 43rd year, by the way. Say, 55ish. Just for an onset. Plenty of warning, of course, like my mind, for instance, would suddenly be full of information I'd been feeding it through all my earlier (pre-55ish) years AND I'd be able to use this information productively, to create harmony around me. OK, I didn't work out all the details, but I thought I had time!
So here I am, aging with each ache, finding new and improved reasons to despise my current hormonal state. With each new symptom I rush to the computer anxiously searching for an answer. The answer calmly smiles at me from each site I visit - Menopause.
Here are some titter-totters I've come across recently:
The latest study on my kind of people has concluded that hot flashes striking early in menopause lower risks of a heard attack. Unless you cannot take it anymore and jump from the window.
When you get tired of the night sweats, your body may take a break and break into cold chills.
In spite of lack of energy, you are supposed to exercise harder during this tender period of growth into the wisdomhood. So if you're woken up by your night sweat or a cold chill, take full advantage of your sleeplessness, get bravely out of bed and practice the Warrior Three position.
Thyroid-Shmyroid, but I am gaining weight. I wish I could say that there is more of me to love. But since I am not liking myself much these days, there is more of me to dislike.
Anxiety attacks can be relieved by sex. One site was particularly insistent and suggested frequent masturbation. My last anxiety attack was on the top of a mountain during a long hike with a bunch of friends, including some kids. Not sure how trying to hump someone (or myself) right there would have enhanced everyone else's experience.
While the hair on my head is definitely thinning and doesn't grow much, there is also less of it on my body. So I can avoid one more pain - waxing.
a. Vanity - as I painfully observe myself in the mirror, I begin to reconsider my no-plastic-surgery-age-gracefully policy;
b. Pain - I am a Perpetuum Mobile of aches, numbness, needle pricks, burning, stinging, stiffness and I am sure I am forgetting something else.
c. Menopause - the hourly reminder of my overstaying my welcome in the womanhood is annoying! It's either a brain-freeze, or a hot flash or a mood swing (ooh, I've re-defined those!)
Up until 2 years ago I planned to age gracefully. I was looking at the pictures of Audrey Hepburn imagining myself entering the world of wisdom where negative emotions cease to exist due to their futility. I would come to accept the superficial changes because they would be replaced with my inner peace.
I have no idea where that bullshit idea came from but I was looking forward to it. At a MUCH later day, than my 43rd year, by the way. Say, 55ish. Just for an onset. Plenty of warning, of course, like my mind, for instance, would suddenly be full of information I'd been feeding it through all my earlier (pre-55ish) years AND I'd be able to use this information productively, to create harmony around me. OK, I didn't work out all the details, but I thought I had time!
So here I am, aging with each ache, finding new and improved reasons to despise my current hormonal state. With each new symptom I rush to the computer anxiously searching for an answer. The answer calmly smiles at me from each site I visit - Menopause.
Here are some titter-totters I've come across recently:
The latest study on my kind of people has concluded that hot flashes striking early in menopause lower risks of a heard attack. Unless you cannot take it anymore and jump from the window.
When you get tired of the night sweats, your body may take a break and break into cold chills.
In spite of lack of energy, you are supposed to exercise harder during this tender period of growth into the wisdomhood. So if you're woken up by your night sweat or a cold chill, take full advantage of your sleeplessness, get bravely out of bed and practice the Warrior Three position.
Thyroid-Shmyroid, but I am gaining weight. I wish I could say that there is more of me to love. But since I am not liking myself much these days, there is more of me to dislike.
Anxiety attacks can be relieved by sex. One site was particularly insistent and suggested frequent masturbation. My last anxiety attack was on the top of a mountain during a long hike with a bunch of friends, including some kids. Not sure how trying to hump someone (or myself) right there would have enhanced everyone else's experience.
While the hair on my head is definitely thinning and doesn't grow much, there is also less of it on my body. So I can avoid one more pain - waxing.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Babe in the Woods
I received a phone call from my GYN a few days back: 'You are going through menopause', he said cheerfully after reviewing the results of my blood test. The cheerful part was obviously to make me feel good about it. "NO! REALLY? Here I thought it was a bad case of flu. With all those immigrants climbing over the walls who knows what sorts of bugs we have these days," I said. Then he said something about me having a syndrome with a Japanese name, to which I asked if I should stop eating Japanese food. I don't think he got my jokes but he bravely suggested I re-checked my thyroid gland, as it seems to act out.
So I did. And it does. And my gyn prescribed me yet another chemical to adjust a gland that secretes hormones that normalize something or other that would make it all better. I dutifully went to my local pharmacy and picked up my prescription. I set it up on the shelf where I keep my current medications and two thoughts occurred to me:
a. I won't have space for real food in my stomach;
b. What's the connection between the hormone producing gland and my current non-flu condition?
Here are some of the more significant problems associated with hypothyroidism:
fatigue, cold intolerance, memory loss, poor concentration, depression, menstrual irregularities. Sounds familiar, I thought, I wish my memory would work better. Wait a minute! Aren't these the same symptoms as the ones on my menopause list? I got so excited, I got an extra hot flash!
So I went on researching the subject. My brain is fried, my body is breaking down (still looks good, but apparently not for long (gaining serious weight in the near future)), but my intuition is still intact. There certainly is a connection and while it's hardly established scientifically (aging women are HOT; someone should start that clinical study!), I continue to wonder.
A living organism is a complex and a well-designed machine, where everything has created intricate connections. The question is: do I interfere? Or do I let my body figure out how to get back on track after taking a little break from this balance thingy? Do I put chemicals or herbs into it or do I trust that nature will find its way to make it work? (On a second thought, why would I trust nature if it came up with menopause!)
I am a pacifist by nature. All that war going on in my body is not agreeing with me from a political perspective as well as physical. I find myself so far out of my comfort zone. For the first time in my life I am officially a Babe in the Woods.
After the original posting, I continued to search the internet for clues on the subject of Thyroid and Menopause and came across this article: http://www.thyroid-info.com/articles/shamesmenopause.htm that you may find useful...
So I did. And it does. And my gyn prescribed me yet another chemical to adjust a gland that secretes hormones that normalize something or other that would make it all better. I dutifully went to my local pharmacy and picked up my prescription. I set it up on the shelf where I keep my current medications and two thoughts occurred to me:
a. I won't have space for real food in my stomach;
b. What's the connection between the hormone producing gland and my current non-flu condition?
Here are some of the more significant problems associated with hypothyroidism:
fatigue, cold intolerance, memory loss, poor concentration, depression, menstrual irregularities. Sounds familiar, I thought, I wish my memory would work better. Wait a minute! Aren't these the same symptoms as the ones on my menopause list? I got so excited, I got an extra hot flash!
So I went on researching the subject. My brain is fried, my body is breaking down (still looks good, but apparently not for long (gaining serious weight in the near future)), but my intuition is still intact. There certainly is a connection and while it's hardly established scientifically (aging women are HOT; someone should start that clinical study!), I continue to wonder.
A living organism is a complex and a well-designed machine, where everything has created intricate connections. The question is: do I interfere? Or do I let my body figure out how to get back on track after taking a little break from this balance thingy? Do I put chemicals or herbs into it or do I trust that nature will find its way to make it work? (On a second thought, why would I trust nature if it came up with menopause!)
I am a pacifist by nature. All that war going on in my body is not agreeing with me from a political perspective as well as physical. I find myself so far out of my comfort zone. For the first time in my life I am officially a Babe in the Woods.
After the original posting, I continued to search the internet for clues on the subject of Thyroid and Menopause and came across this article: http://www.thyroid-info.com/articles/shamesmenopause.htm that you may find useful...
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Science vs. Nature
I'd like to deviate from my List of 34 and describe something I've stumbled upon in my continuous quest for the answer to the 'WHY' question.
(Not Why do women go through menopause, or Why do I have to go through it so damn early, but rather Why has Mother Nature made it so hard on me. Isn't she the 'Mother', after all? What kind of a sick masochistic trick is that!)
Iranian scientists, between making a nuclear bomb and stoning adulteresses, have discovered that a simple blood test that measures the anti-Mullerian Hormone in women can predict when she is to expect her menopause, so she can plan her procreation accordingly. They've tested 266 women. The Brits jumped on the wagon. They've started their own study of an even larger number of women - 2500 (British women are not as bashful) and so far the findings coincide.
I dug even further and more questions arose from my research than answers. One particular question is: WHO IN THEIR EARLY 20-s and 30-s CARES ABOUT MENOPAUSE??? I would like to meet them - her. Aren't we more into dating and fashion and careers at that age? We just learn to balance our check books (some of us continue this process into our late 40-s)!
Nevertheless, someone has funded such a study (in several countries, too) and designed and carried it out. So now that we know how much time we have left, I propose the following:
a. With the early menopause on a rise, we should support teen pregnancies! You never know when Mother Nature will strike you with the Big M;
b. Off with the Uterus! Your GYN should be trained to remove your uterus immediately following the delivery of your last agreed-upon-with-your-hubby offspring. Hysterectomy significantly reduces the negative effects of menopause;
c. Sex change operation must be covered by health insurance. Escape into manhood!
One more thing: someone commented on my blog (THANK YOU!) that it's all about life expectancy - we live longer than originally designed. In Neolithic Era, life expectancy was 20 years - the shortest of them all. On average, throughout all Eras, life expectancy was 35 years. Current world average is 67.2 years (2010 data), and that is in spite the Bushes!
Mother Nature just didn't think that far ahead. So, I guess there is one more question: What are we to expect from our bodies once we learn how to live to 120 years?
(Not Why do women go through menopause, or Why do I have to go through it so damn early, but rather Why has Mother Nature made it so hard on me. Isn't she the 'Mother', after all? What kind of a sick masochistic trick is that!)
Iranian scientists, between making a nuclear bomb and stoning adulteresses, have discovered that a simple blood test that measures the anti-Mullerian Hormone in women can predict when she is to expect her menopause, so she can plan her procreation accordingly. They've tested 266 women. The Brits jumped on the wagon. They've started their own study of an even larger number of women - 2500 (British women are not as bashful) and so far the findings coincide.
I dug even further and more questions arose from my research than answers. One particular question is: WHO IN THEIR EARLY 20-s and 30-s CARES ABOUT MENOPAUSE??? I would like to meet them - her. Aren't we more into dating and fashion and careers at that age? We just learn to balance our check books (some of us continue this process into our late 40-s)!
Nevertheless, someone has funded such a study (in several countries, too) and designed and carried it out. So now that we know how much time we have left, I propose the following:
a. With the early menopause on a rise, we should support teen pregnancies! You never know when Mother Nature will strike you with the Big M;
b. Off with the Uterus! Your GYN should be trained to remove your uterus immediately following the delivery of your last agreed-upon-with-your-hubby offspring. Hysterectomy significantly reduces the negative effects of menopause;
c. Sex change operation must be covered by health insurance. Escape into manhood!
One more thing: someone commented on my blog (THANK YOU!) that it's all about life expectancy - we live longer than originally designed. In Neolithic Era, life expectancy was 20 years - the shortest of them all. On average, throughout all Eras, life expectancy was 35 years. Current world average is 67.2 years (2010 data), and that is in spite the Bushes!
Mother Nature just didn't think that far ahead. So, I guess there is one more question: What are we to expect from our bodies once we learn how to live to 120 years?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
To Bleed or Not to Bleed - That Is The Question...
One day my ovaries (well, technically only one of them) decided to revolt against my aging, prove it wrong, defy it with all its mighty might. At first, it wasn't even funny how mighty it proved to be. That tiny shrinking hormonal gland was going through its own mood swings, sending me to the bathroom more often than my small bladder. I'd wake up several times a night to check for any leakage.
For 2 bloody (and I mean it literally) years I had to forgo wearing white, had gone to Costco and invested serious cash into feminine disposables.
Then it stopped - the shrinkage became irreversible and I was considering to set the fire on all of my remaining 'Mommy diapers' and my tampons... I imagined a fun fire in the garden, a glass of wine and warm memories of PMS and cramps and bloating and breast tenderness, as I'd pour the tampons out of their box and say my final goodbyes. I'd even shed a tear...
Well, what do you know, three months into it and the ovary woke up. Off I go to the drug store to replenish my supply. As I prepare for the usual and so very familiar routine, it stops. It comes back in a week for a day. Then 4 months later for 5 days.
I've realized that my ovary isn't playing the die hard/hide-and-seek with nature. It's playing evil mind games with me. It comes unexpectedly: when I am out running very far from home, or when I am in the middle of an important conversation. It hits you with the ever diminishing might (finally!) leaving you somewhere between a pad and a pantyliner. FOR DAYS! Try exercising with this! Tampons won't do anymore, due to the Symptom #7 - Vaginal Dryness.
As always, I find a silver lining in this situation as well - this is the only time when I am hot-flash free! But more often than not, when I wake up in the middle of the night chafing, I reeeeally long for that bonfire...
For 2 bloody (and I mean it literally) years I had to forgo wearing white, had gone to Costco and invested serious cash into feminine disposables.
Then it stopped - the shrinkage became irreversible and I was considering to set the fire on all of my remaining 'Mommy diapers' and my tampons... I imagined a fun fire in the garden, a glass of wine and warm memories of PMS and cramps and bloating and breast tenderness, as I'd pour the tampons out of their box and say my final goodbyes. I'd even shed a tear...
Well, what do you know, three months into it and the ovary woke up. Off I go to the drug store to replenish my supply. As I prepare for the usual and so very familiar routine, it stops. It comes back in a week for a day. Then 4 months later for 5 days.
I've realized that my ovary isn't playing the die hard/hide-and-seek with nature. It's playing evil mind games with me. It comes unexpectedly: when I am out running very far from home, or when I am in the middle of an important conversation. It hits you with the ever diminishing might (finally!) leaving you somewhere between a pad and a pantyliner. FOR DAYS! Try exercising with this! Tampons won't do anymore, due to the Symptom #7 - Vaginal Dryness.
As always, I find a silver lining in this situation as well - this is the only time when I am hot-flash free! But more often than not, when I wake up in the middle of the night chafing, I reeeeally long for that bonfire...
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
33 and Me
Well, it is supposed to be 34, but since I am still waiting for the last one to arrive, I'll concentrate on the 33 symptoms - it's a long list, really.
I've told you all about my hot flashes (1), night sweats (2), pain (3), sleeplessness (4).
We are on to Symptom #5 - Mood Swings.
The only difference between my mood swings and the bipolar disorder is that my version of abnormally elevated energy levels is yelling at the top of my lungs at an asshole in the car in front of me for cutting in. Then my energy immediately drops to the minus levels and I start hating myself for yelling at the guy. Luckily, the windows were closed, so he couldn't have heard me, so I am happy again. My energy comes back, AND...
there is that asshole again. Clinically it's referred to as 'rapid cycling'.
I also experience waves of depression. Well, no, Tsunami of depression, when a hole in my running socks suddenly reminds me of trapped Chilean miners, or Darfur or something equally atrocious and my intestines tie into a boa tie. And all I can do is lie down and cry, thinking of how pathetic I am, which, in turn, makes me even more depressed.
The good news is that many of the art geniuses out there are believed to have suffered from bipolar disorder (Van Gogh, anybody?). So my plan is that while my own version of the disorder is lasting, I should quickly try to create something artsy that would become an instant masterpiece. If only I didn't spend all my elevated energy on that asshole...
I've told you all about my hot flashes (1), night sweats (2), pain (3), sleeplessness (4).
We are on to Symptom #5 - Mood Swings.
The only difference between my mood swings and the bipolar disorder is that my version of abnormally elevated energy levels is yelling at the top of my lungs at an asshole in the car in front of me for cutting in. Then my energy immediately drops to the minus levels and I start hating myself for yelling at the guy. Luckily, the windows were closed, so he couldn't have heard me, so I am happy again. My energy comes back, AND...
there is that asshole again. Clinically it's referred to as 'rapid cycling'.
I also experience waves of depression. Well, no, Tsunami of depression, when a hole in my running socks suddenly reminds me of trapped Chilean miners, or Darfur or something equally atrocious and my intestines tie into a boa tie. And all I can do is lie down and cry, thinking of how pathetic I am, which, in turn, makes me even more depressed.
The good news is that many of the art geniuses out there are believed to have suffered from bipolar disorder (Van Gogh, anybody?). So my plan is that while my own version of the disorder is lasting, I should quickly try to create something artsy that would become an instant masterpiece. If only I didn't spend all my elevated energy on that asshole...
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