One round of wheelie pills down, many many more to go

Menopause is a funny thing, especially if you weren’t prepared. I saw my mom experience the beginnings of it, before she realized she wasn’t actually insane, and sought help, but it’s so much different living it. 

I don’t know if it’s different if you experience it at the time of your life you’re biologically designed to go through it, compared to 31 years old. I would suppose you’d at least see it coming.

I suspect mine has been misdiagnosed for at least the past three years, as depression. The mood swings were pretty severe, oscillating between being teary and being angry. 

Occasionally crying while angry. This sort of collided with some other major life changes, so it crept in without my noticing it. 

I thought I was suffering from depo-provera withdrawal when the hot flashes started. Those are fun. Walking around, minding my own business, and then turning into the Human Torch the next moment. 

Nothing quite reminds you of your own mortality as quickly! Other super sexy symptoms include night sweats, and some pretty odd hair in some seriously weird places. 

Oh and shedding bucket loads of hair. Which I didn’t notice, as I have enough hair on my head for at least three people. DO NOT IGNORE THESE. 

I ignored it for far too long, I should have been on hormone replacement a long time ago. It may even have saved some braincells.

Before you start sending cancer links, or try and convince me that soy supplements are somehow better, read up on premature ovarian failure. 

Those of us whose ovaries pack up and go back to the mothership before age 40, need the hormone replacement. I read all of it, including the horrifying package insert. 

I have no experience in hypochondria, but I did feel decidedly stroke-like after reading all the small print.

Oh and another side note: I forgot to add the other glaring symptom. Short-term memory loss. Because I forget that I keep forgetting. 

I waltzed up to the counter at the chemist yesterday, to get my second wheel of pills, and in that moment I couldn’t remember what my prescription was. Doh.

Thank the Lord for Big Brother, if all my details weren’t captured, including pill names, I would have burst into tears.  So safe to say while I no longer burst into fire at random moments, my brain function isn’t quite back to normal.  Which is okay, because I forget that I don’t remember anything. 

I suspect my mother handled most of these with far more grace than I am, or she is just less of an exhibitionist. I did, however, get my sense of humour from her, hence describing the hormone replacement as anti-werewolf tablets. 

It’s nice that the estrogen is definitely keeping The Hulk under control at the moment, even if I do still tear up at a moment’s notice. Crying is so undignified, especially if it is at your child’s acro-gym concert. Poor kid.

Five months to go till I find out how much longer I get to keep my (neutralized) uterus.  Here’s to many more wheels of pills!

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