Not really. But it sounds good, doesn't it? I mean, we are born women. We go through the normal events of childhood, adolescence (and wow, isn't it exciting when we get our first menses?), become young women, mothers... Through all these growth times, we persevere with cramps, bleeding, pain, weakness, childbirth...emotional issues, some of which include depression. For some of us, those times are relatively easy. For others, it's a monthly struggle and not something to look forward to.
And then, oh glorious wonders, we get the joy of menopause! Hallelujah, can you say amen? Night sweats that are so amazing that they awaken us from sleep... hot flashes that show up and make it feel like the sun has taken up residence somewhere between your nose and navel, with no possibility of getting out of the heat because it's coming from INSIDE...and then the emotional swings. Wow. I've had moments in my life of feeling sad...hasn't everyone? Times when I didn't know what to do with myself, anxious moments of feeling out of place... But this?! This is waaaaaay beyond all that.
I now have days when I don't want to get out of bed. And then, contrarily, I can't stay IN bed another second. And these feelings will erupt within minutes of one another. I have no energy; I have too much energy. And no...no no no no...it's NOT bi-polar disorder. I actually asked the doc about that kind of thing. He smiled (that knowing, smug little smile that made me want to slug him and ask if he had ever experienced these joys) crossed his legs and laced his fingers together, resting his hands on his upraised knee. He had already laid aside his iPad (which he uses for notes and to look stuff up while we have our visit) and looked at me.
"Angela, I think you're entering menopause."
Seriously? Like I didn't KNOW that? Gee, doc, what gave me away? I wondered. Could it be the red face and neck? The sweat popping out and splatting onto the wall--ten feet away--even though it's like minus ten degrees in this air-conditioned office? Or maybe it's the change in attitude. The fact that I've gone from smiles and forbearance to scrunched up and ready to cry at the drop of a hat? Maybe the fact that I missed my period for like 5 months and then it started up again, this time with a vengeance? Fifteen days of using feminine products, a half a bottle of aspirin (or Goody's powders if they're available), the desire for a glass of wine every night (which I don't indulge because it gives me a smashing headache within 20 minutes of guzzling----ahem, I mean sipping it)? How about the fact that there are times when I can barely sit still because my muscles and nerves are firing to get me onto my feet but my mind and heart just want to be quiet and still? These paradoxical feelings are very new and frustrating.
So I ask the doc, "What can I do? Is there something I can take or eat?"
"Soy seems to help some women," he says with a very benign tone. "Or blue/black cohosh."
I've tried the cohosh. Didn't do much. "Soy. I have heard it's linked with some pretty bad stuff. What about valium? I've heard that helps."
He smiles. Kind of chuckles. "You're not at the valium stage yet."
My gosh. How much worse will it get, then, before I AM at that stage?
"So, soy. In pills or do I choke down that Silk stuff? That soy milk...?"
"You can do either."
Yech. Blah. Nasssssssty. I'm sure it is. Even though I've never actually tasted it. I nod, knowingly. "I'll try that," I say, fully planning on trying it.
I pick some up on my way home from the doc's office. I get home, pop the little plastic thingy out of the spout and pour a 12 ounce glass. I smell it. Sip it. "Very Vanilla, huh?" I mutter, tipping the glass and opening my throat to roughly the diameter of a five year old fir tree. Glug, glug. It's sweet and reminds me of the smell of baby formula. Yech. I decide to check the caloric and sugar values. Oh, good grief. I've just lost almost 30 pounds by getting away from sugar. This stuff has more calories ounce for ounce than my favorite beverage, Pepsi. I would rather drink Pepsi, I think as I put the carton back into the fridge.
Praying that this thing helps, I go through my day, hoping for a better night of rest because for weeks I've waking up about 5 times a night. No joke. I'm drenched one time, then wake up the next freezing cold because I threw off my blankets when I was sweating. So I'm wet AND cold. I get up, dry off, get under the covers (sometimes after having to wake my husband to change the sheets if it's bad enough, other times I just throw a bath towel onto the damp sheets and change the pillowcase) ...and an hour later I'm awake again, hotter than a two dollar pistol, sweating profusely. And so on. I kid you not. Now, these moments don't occur every night, but frequently enough to be a tough thing to bear up under. No wonder I feel depressed, or even short tempered some days! I'm suffering from sleep deprivation!
My husband is really banal about it all. He mostly just nods and smiles when I'm having one of those days. God love him. I could just strangle him for being so unaffected. I know just where I'll bury the body after I reach the point of being unable to bear his kind regard during this time of great distress. The peach trees need fertilizing.
Maybe tonight will be less traumatic.
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