The Big M

I’ve got the menopause.

I know.

I know.

It is perhaps the dumbest thing I’ve ever written. And perhaps we aren’t supposed to talk about it on a platform like this or anywhere but the Red Tent, but I figure I don’t have kids so I can’t mommyblog.

I can however, menoblog.

I’ve got the menopause.

I assure you, it’s the truth.

I had bloodwork done in January after some very obvious signs that I had, in fact, contracted the menopause. It was pretty clear that something was amiss. Mostly estrogen.

The hot flashes. Sweet mother of pearl, can we talk about how much those suck? So I finally waved the white flag and went to my primary care doc and we decided to try some hormone patches.

The first week I was on those was Cousinpalooza.

I was a freakin wreck. So emotional. And turns out, it can interfere with certain alcoholic beverages. WHICH I CALL BULLSHIT ON BECAUSE CAN YOU NOT SEE THE SWEAT DROPS DROPPING FROM MY DAMN LIP???

I got really close to inappropriate levels of drunk and disorderly that week. Thank God we are family. They still love me. The newbies maybe cautious of ever hanging again, but I’ll win them over soon enough.

I wore the patches for one month solid and while the hot flashes were lessened, I felt depressed. I felt like I was going to kick start back onto the train of monthly eating and emo..OH WAIT I DID.

I know that my experience last week was one filled with emotion. But my eyes are STILL feeling like they’re coated in sandpaper from all the tears. I’m better than Sally Field at crying on command. (ok let’s be real, I was good at that prior to contracting the menopause) I just want to throw my arms up and scream.


I am not doing all of the mourning of my womanhood, I am a little freaked out that I’m 45 and this is where I am. Honestly, I’m freaked out that I’m 45. That is still weird to me but whatever. Here’s the thing:

I want to be healthy.

I want to feel normal…you know what I mean? I demand more choices than to be strapped into the PMS roller coaster, eating easy mac as if my father’s love were at the bottom of the container OR sweating like a woman praising the Lord at a Georgia tent revival. In August.

so. much. sweat. ya’ll. It is so cold in our house at night that my poor husband is wearing layers to bed.

I pulled my patch off last night and as of today, the day that I am supposed to reapply, I have not re-filled my prescription. I feel like it should’ve treated me better than it did, so I’m walking away until I can figure out what I’m going to do to get through this chapter.

So maybe you know some things? Maybe this is what menoblogging will do for me?

I’m kind of ok being one step closer to Grace & Frankie and ten steps farther away from Carrie Bradshaw & Co.

But fucking hell the sweat. I’m so G.D. stinky I can’t hug anyone without an apology.

Anyways, that’s what’s going on in the Land of Ridiculous. Feel free to throw me some advice. I’m open to all suggestions.

From the super medicated to the goonie goo goo. I’m all in. Sweaty. But in.



7 thoughts on “The Big M

  1. so it’s been a while since any of this was effective for me, but get yourself to a Health Food Store…look for Black Cohash (not sure on the spelling) and mmm I can’t remember what the other thing was, but I’ll think of it and let you know 🙂 That worked for me for the first 2-3 years to “minimize” the symptoms. They’re gonna tell you to cut out caffeine and wine and chocolate…yeah I told them to “go screw themselves” on that lame advice! There also is a lotion I used to apply to my wrists, that also worked for a while. I finally gave up and bought/collected about 3 dozen fans, I have them EVERYWHERE!! At 62 I mostly deal only with night hot flashes now.


  2. I simply refer to my hot flashes as power surges. The hormone pills didn’t help me as much as specially made cream did. Don’t give up; go back to your doctor and demand something different. Courtney told the dr he was sleeping with one eye open because he was scared of me! The dr quickly tried something different. It wasn’t a quick fix, but it is much better now!


  3. I can only offer laughs at your funny, and hugs regardless of your stinky. And I’ll throw in some sympathy for good measure because that all sounds pretty miserable. Im sorry!!


  4. I want to hug you. I am here…at this very level where you are, only I seem to have developed a penchant for using the ‘F’ word…in any variation, ALL THE TIME. After using the actual words ‘mother F-er’ at the dinner table, I decided it was time for an intervention of sorts. I did lots of Googling last weekend and found out a lot of interesting things about estrogen-and what the lack of it does to my sanity. Apparently there are foods you can eat that promote estrogen levels-they are not in any way, shape or form related to the chocolate, pasta, or potato chip family. Really? For the love of all things yummy, why, why if we have to be forty freaking five can we just not eat the snickers and the spaghetti and not gain all the pounds? I haven’t gotten brave enough to try the replacement therapy…for now I will eat the f-ing cucumbers and f-ing berries and try some deep breathing through the nightmare that is the menopause.


  5. I am a few years behind you, so no advice, though the hot flashes at night have already been a thing, though my friends also swear by the black cohosh, in both pills and tea. But you made me laugh. The menopause.


  6. I’m with Sarah on advice. I would look into holistic health care though. I for one am glad you’re menoblogging. I have a mother who does not discuss such things and I need to know what’s coming. Also, talking openly about it takes away some of the power and mystery we’ve decided to attach to menopause. This is what happens to our bodies and there’s nothing shameful about it. There’s no reason to have to whisper about it behind dressing room doors.

    So…thank you for your sweaty blogging.


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