Menopause
I’d love to find a page in a diary of my grandmother(s) that told me what life was like for them in their fifties. My Grandma Verna had breast cancer and that was a different time (the 1970s) so I suspect she went through something much worse and much different than I can even imagine. She had a mastectomy, opted for no reconstruction, and after a few treatments of chemo decided that she would rather die young than live through the chemo. She stopped her treatments and lived to be 86 with the cancer never rearing it's ugly head again. That took guts! My Grandma Pauline died before I was born. Both of their experiences remind me of the gift that I have been given to even live my life to this point. Not everyone is so lucky. My health is a gift that I often take for granted and probably always will, until I can't anymore. If my mom was affected by menopause like I have been, well then, she hid it well. According to her the hot flashes weren’t really a big thing. I was living on the opposite coast when my mom was my age and Mom (Granny) isn’t a complainer and not really a sharer. If she was miserable, I probably wouldn’t have known. As a result, I had no idea in my forties that I was inching towards a long season of changes and challenges that I’m not sure I was, well I know, I was not prepared for.
Think of this as the short menopause version of What to Expect When You are Expecting...
When I was younger, I used to literally plan events around my mood. Week two to three I was as normal as normal is, week four I was an angry/mean/sad/emotional woman that really could have used some medication to get through (and for a period of time I did). This was the week that I’d schedule vacations and happy events around best I could for fear that my hormonal self might ruin them. Then I’d circle back to week one where I was (on a normal day) pretty happy and positive. It was like clockwork and knowing the hours of the clock I’d just navigate through it. There was something kind of nice about feeling like you hated the world and everyone in it only to look at the calendar and justify every feeling you felt because – well – you were hormonal and that is a free ticket to feel all the feels. I might want to punch you right now, but that’s fine – it’s week four and I’m allowed. It’s ok though, sit tight, because week one is just around the corner and I can’t wait to love you again. That was life for many years. Then came the 50’s.. Cycle, what cycle? Is it week one, two, three, four? I have no idea. Do I hate you right now or is it hormonal – I really wish I knew. Cycles go from consistent, to inconsistent, to heavy to light to often to seldom… until it stops (but for months you don’t really know that for sure).
What other fun things do you have to look forward to, well... I had never before had an exercise routine and I never had to worry about what I ate. I happily went through a good thirty years of eating what I wanted when I wanted and not really giving it much thought. Those days quickly appeared to be ending so the sneakers got laced up at 50 because I’m not going down as the numbers on the scale go up without a fight. So walk, run, hike – but get moving. I got moving and the scale seemed to level out. That part I’m not so mad about. I mean I don’t want to have to stop eating the chips and salsa sooner than I wanted, but I sure do love lacing up the sneakers and getting outside. At 50-something I can actually do something now that I never thought I could do before. Those under 10-minute miles feel pretty awesome and often on days when I need that feeling the most.
Wrinkles... yup they arrive almost overnight. It’s like you don’t have them and then you do. I have the oldest hand and elbows on the planet and drinking a straw is what I blame for those wrinkles on my face. I still at 55 on a regular basis find people surprised that I have an almost 30-year-old. It kind of gives me the same happy feeling that being carded in my 30’s did, but it’s only because they aren’t looking closely. Look closely – I look my age.
So there’s the weight gain, the wrinkles, the things that don’t need to be discussed in a public blog (you are welcome), and then there’s the biggy, at least for me it is. HOT FLASHES… I’m a cold natured person with hot flashes and this has been the norm for at this point more years than I can count. I’m still holding out hope they will go away one day. It goes something like this – normal (probably a space heater on at my feet) to feeling a little unsettled. I want to panic a little but I’m not sure why. Something is wrong. Space heater off NOW and if I don’t get this sweater off in five seconds, I might need to cut it off of my body. The only way to describe it is feeling like you are in a car on a hot North Carolina August day with the AC off, the seat warmers on and you can’t get the windows or doors to open no matter how hard you try. The temperature and the panic combined – well that, that is a hot flash. You begin thinking – it actually is hot in here and you just aren’t sure why nobody is else responding. But it’s not long before you realize – it’s you. It's only you. It’s always you. I’m now so familiar (sadly) with them that I can feel the unsettled, uneasy, panicked, something is wrong feeling and I can say to myself – breathe, get some water, nobody knows, hang tight. You are about to get very warm and then it will pass. There really is nothing wrong and nobody can see that you feel like it’s 1,000 degrees in here, only you. Then as quickly as it started it ends. I’ll let you know at what age it stops but for now, I just wanted you to know if and when this happens to you that … I think ... it’s normal. Buying a pullover sweater now almost makes me cringe. It’s light shirts (maybe even a sleeveless shirt) with a sweater over top so that I can quickly remove layers in a moment’s notice. My wardrobe has changed, but I sure hope one day I can wear those comfy winter sweaters again without fear of needing the scissors. We’ll see.
Something about this season brings about an awareness of how quickly time is going and how desperately I’d like to slow it down. When did I go from the youngest in the office to mom to work mom to a grandmother!! How? In a blink of an eye that's how. I miss blaming my moods on PMS even though the hormonal mood swings are just as bad. Difference now is they come with no actual proof that it is hormones and not just me. I hate that. It’s a season when you will crave the sisterhood of a tribe more than ever while feeling isolated and sometimes so lonely (even though you are not alone). It can be complicated and confusing because it’s taking you on a path to the next chapter. It's the in-between (and yes I know that's not supposed to be a word). There is youth, adulthood, and then, well, I guess the now. A new time and body adjusting and adapting to the new life that lies ahead. This next chapter though will be the one where I know myself better than I ever have before. A new confidence and an understanding of who I really am. I will have arrived and earned it and I'm going to enjoy every minute. The chapter ahead may just be what I've waited my whole life for. I'll let you know!
I recently read Katie Couric’s book. She’s about ten years older than I am. She lost her husband and sister at a young age and understands that we don’t all get to experience the joys of aging. She posted a picture on Instagram one morning before the makeup, hair, etc. She was simply capturing a typical morning in her life that she is so thankful that she has gotten to live. It hasn’t gotten past her that with all of life’s challenges that everyday truly is a gift. One of the comments on her post said, “Boy she got old.” Katie’s response –
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