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The menopause diaries: The bumpy ride begins - comment

 
 Wooden dummy holding menopause sign (photo credit: FLICKR)
Wooden dummy holding menopause sign
(photo credit: FLICKR)

Join me as I navigate my way through this difficult journey into the world of elasticized waistbands, hormone replacement therapy, cold showers, and sleep deprivation. 

Round 1: Denial

Women of a certain age will no doubt be familiar with the M word. 

For some, it simply passes without so much as a by your leave. These lucky ones are few and far between.

Most women, on the other hand, are slain by myriad, seemingly endless challenges of the effects of menopause. Hot flashes, sleepless nights, and bulging waistlines are just the tip of the iceberg. 

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I slid smugly into my 50s, wondering what the fuss was all about. Feeling young and sprightly, I scoffed at those who warned me of the perils that lay ahead, convinced that mind over matter would see me through this difficult stage in my life. 

Illustrative photo of a birthday cake. (credit: PXHERE)
Illustrative photo of a birthday cake. (credit: PXHERE)

A strong woman like me simply wouldn’t be defeated by it, rather like how I convinced myself that having kids wouldn’t alter me one jot. Well, I was wrong about that too. I’ve never been the same since – although the upside to losing your freedom and your figure in one fell swoop is becoming a mother. 

Menopause is an entirely different matter, however; there’s nothing to commend it, apart from one welcome factor – no more periods!

Trying to stave off the inevitable

I managed to stave off the inevitable until a year or so ago when the hot flashes began. So mild at first, they barely registered. As someone who’s always cold, they were actually quite comforting, if anything. 


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“This isn’t so bad,” I told my husband. “Can’t think what the fuss is all about.” And then it hit me like a train. All at once. 

Suddenly all my clothes shrank. I was barely able to sleep for more than two hours at a stretch, and I slowly started to resemble my late grandmother who barely had a hair on her head, as I recall, when she died, aged 99. 

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I soldiered on in a state of denial for months. Maybe it was the odd glass of wine or the sneaky bars of chocolate that were causing my clothes to shrink. 

Maybe it was the dogs wandering around my bedroom that caused me to wake repeatedly throughout the night. 

And maybe the years of dying my hair had finally taken its toll, causing it to fall out in large clumps. 

It wasn’t until I’d gone for months without a period that I decided enough was enough.

Finally, I put on my big-girl pants and made an appointment to see my doctor.

Now I’m no longer in denial. Now I have to face reality and deal with the stresses and strains of menopause

Join me as I navigate my way through this difficult journey into the world of elasticized waistbands, hormone replacement therapy, cold showers, and sleep deprivation. 

Looks like we’re in for a bumpy ride! 

The writer is 54 years and two months.

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