The life of a woman seems to be spelled out in acronyms. As we struggle with PMS (pre-menstral symdrome), we consider going AWOL (absent without leave). At the same time, our children are ADD (attention deficit disorder) or ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) and we wonder if we might have PMDD (pre-menstral disphoric disorder). and are tempted to declare ourselves MIA (missing in action).
Just as we have come to grips with PMS, we enter the PM (perimenopause) phase of life. Perimenopause is no picnic as we have the pain and inconvenience of still having periods but are undergoing hot flashes, night sweats, and mood swings as well. After that, we enter into full blown menopause. I don't know if the big M has an acronym or if the single letter must suffice.
By the time I sort through all these acronyms, I feel ready to join the military which runs on acronyms. Come to think of it, that's not a bad idea. After all, I'm ready to be all that I can be.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
Day 41, June 29
I have a small plaque that reads, "Well-behaved women rarely make history."
Truer words were never said. Unfortunately, women of my generation were taught, indeed, it was drummed in to us, to be well-behaved, to mind our manners, to efface ourselves. For better or worse, those teachings stuck. I was well-behaved. I minded my manners. I effaced myself. I did the latter so well that I nearly obliterated myself.
Where would I be now if I had stood up for myself more? Would I be bolder and more confident? Most assuredly. Would I be happier? I know so. So what, you may rightly ask, does this have to do with menopause?
Withi all its problems and struggles, menopause is a time of freedom. We as women have finally come in to our own. We can stand up for ourselves; we can speak our minds; we can snub our fingers at the world and say, "Bite me."
Please don't misunderstand: I'm not suggesting that we become ill-tempered shrews. I am, however, stating, unequivocally, that it is time menopausal women (and ALL women) make themselves heard. If someone treats you shabbily, don't sit idly by and take it. Calmly, politely, tell the offender that you deserve better. Everyone deserves respectful treatment. Even menopausal women. Especially menopausal women.
One of my historical heroines is Eliza Roxy Snow, second General Relief Society President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At a time when women were under-rated and under appreciated, Sister Snow stood up for her beliefs and stood up for herself. When a mob member threatened her, she refused to back down. He doffed his hat to her and said, "You are a better man than I." She later confided to another sister, "I was not much flattered."
Menopausal women of the world, unite. Treat yourself and each other as the phenomenal women you are.
Truer words were never said. Unfortunately, women of my generation were taught, indeed, it was drummed in to us, to be well-behaved, to mind our manners, to efface ourselves. For better or worse, those teachings stuck. I was well-behaved. I minded my manners. I effaced myself. I did the latter so well that I nearly obliterated myself.
Where would I be now if I had stood up for myself more? Would I be bolder and more confident? Most assuredly. Would I be happier? I know so. So what, you may rightly ask, does this have to do with menopause?
Withi all its problems and struggles, menopause is a time of freedom. We as women have finally come in to our own. We can stand up for ourselves; we can speak our minds; we can snub our fingers at the world and say, "Bite me."
Please don't misunderstand: I'm not suggesting that we become ill-tempered shrews. I am, however, stating, unequivocally, that it is time menopausal women (and ALL women) make themselves heard. If someone treats you shabbily, don't sit idly by and take it. Calmly, politely, tell the offender that you deserve better. Everyone deserves respectful treatment. Even menopausal women. Especially menopausal women.
One of my historical heroines is Eliza Roxy Snow, second General Relief Society President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At a time when women were under-rated and under appreciated, Sister Snow stood up for her beliefs and stood up for herself. When a mob member threatened her, she refused to back down. He doffed his hat to her and said, "You are a better man than I." She later confided to another sister, "I was not much flattered."
Menopausal women of the world, unite. Treat yourself and each other as the phenomenal women you are.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Day 40, June 28
My granddaughter, Reynna, my daughter, Alanna, and I span the years of womanhood. Reynna at 12, Alanna in her 30s, and me--let's just say that we cover it all.
Reynna is just beginning the hormonal cycle; Alanna has it all figured out. Then there's me, who has no hormones. It's one of life's inequities. We spend much of our life getting used to having hormones. Once we've conquered that, we get to pat ourselves on the back for getting it right (at last). Finally, we have no hormones and we wonder why we feel like crap.
I am adjusting, slowly, to my new stage in life. Just as I did at 13, I'm trying to get it right. The only problem is, this time the learning curve is steeper and I'm that much slower.
Hormones are like men: you can't live with 'em and you can't live without 'em.
Reynna is just beginning the hormonal cycle; Alanna has it all figured out. Then there's me, who has no hormones. It's one of life's inequities. We spend much of our life getting used to having hormones. Once we've conquered that, we get to pat ourselves on the back for getting it right (at last). Finally, we have no hormones and we wonder why we feel like crap.
I am adjusting, slowly, to my new stage in life. Just as I did at 13, I'm trying to get it right. The only problem is, this time the learning curve is steeper and I'm that much slower.
Hormones are like men: you can't live with 'em and you can't live without 'em.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Day 39, June 27
Among my bodily parts that have drooped are my eyelids. They hang at half-mast. In fact, I'm fortunate that I can still see. I'm considering an eyelid lift. Maybe insurance will cover it if I can prove a medical need.
Anyway, back to my eyelids. As I contemplate having them surgically lifted, I realize that that will offset the hook on my nose. Well, I could always have that fixed as well. After all, in for a penny, in for a pound. But if I have my nose fixed, it will make my earlobes (which continue to grow) all the more prominent.
It's sort of like, you paint a room, then notice the carpet looks shabby. You get new carpet and realize how threadbare the sofa and chair are. A new sofa and chair emphasize the twenty-year-old drapes. And so it goes.
Upon further consideration, I think I'll just stick with my droopy eyelids. After all, they fit the rest of my face.
Anyway, back to my eyelids. As I contemplate having them surgically lifted, I realize that that will offset the hook on my nose. Well, I could always have that fixed as well. After all, in for a penny, in for a pound. But if I have my nose fixed, it will make my earlobes (which continue to grow) all the more prominent.
It's sort of like, you paint a room, then notice the carpet looks shabby. You get new carpet and realize how threadbare the sofa and chair are. A new sofa and chair emphasize the twenty-year-old drapes. And so it goes.
Upon further consideration, I think I'll just stick with my droopy eyelids. After all, they fit the rest of my face.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Day 38, June 26
No blog on menopause would be complete without a discussion of sex. When a husband and wife have been married as long as Larry and I have been, sex takes on a shorthand form.
Our conversations go something like this:
Larry: "Aaaargh?" (Do you want to have sex?)
Me: "Aaar." (Okay.)
Larry: "Uugh uugh." (Well, take your clothes off.)
Me: "Aaar." (Okay.)
With a minimum of grunting, he's communicated his needs and I've given my acquiesence. It's a system that has taken 39 years to refine. A few more years and we'll have it down to a raise of the eyebrows and a twitching of the nose. Ain't communication a wonderful thing?
Our conversations go something like this:
Larry: "Aaaargh?" (Do you want to have sex?)
Me: "Aaar." (Okay.)
Larry: "Uugh uugh." (Well, take your clothes off.)
Me: "Aaar." (Okay.)
With a minimum of grunting, he's communicated his needs and I've given my acquiesence. It's a system that has taken 39 years to refine. A few more years and we'll have it down to a raise of the eyebrows and a twitching of the nose. Ain't communication a wonderful thing?
Monday, June 25, 2012
Day 37, June 25
Do you remember MADAM BOVARY from literature classes? I'm thinking a better title for a book would be "Madam's Ovaries." Ovaries are capricious organs. They give too many hormones at some times; they take away hormones at others. Either way, many of us are left with a surplus or a deficit, depending upon our age.
Those hairs that migrated from our legs to our chins? The ovaries stopped producing estrogen. Instead, our bodies decided, "Why not try some testosterone?" Yes, why not indeed? That's all we need, some male hormone running around unsupervised in our bodies.
What about the thickening around our waists? Lack of estrogen again. So we try some supplements. Estroven, anybody? Or maybe we go herbal.
I don't know about you, but I'm wary of supplements. Natural doesn't always mean safe. Neither does herbal. So what's a woman to do?
I suggest prayer, chocolate, and more prayer. When all else fails, a good curse comes in handy. Your choice.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Day 36, June 24
My daughter, Alanna, helped me set up this blog. Her 12-year-old daughter was there while we were doing it and asked what I was going to write about.
"Menopause," I said brightly.
"That doesn't sound like much fun," was her response.
"It's not," I assured her.
No, menopause isn't much fun. And it's certainly not for the faint of heart or wimps. Of course, neither of those apply to women who have endured what we laughingly called 'natural" childbirth, put up with unruly teenagers, and deal on a daily basis with recalcitrant husbands.
We are warriors. We are survivors. We are WOMEN.
And, so, I continue to write, hoping you'll find insights if not laughter in my small observations.
"Menopause," I said brightly.
"That doesn't sound like much fun," was her response.
"It's not," I assured her.
No, menopause isn't much fun. And it's certainly not for the faint of heart or wimps. Of course, neither of those apply to women who have endured what we laughingly called 'natural" childbirth, put up with unruly teenagers, and deal on a daily basis with recalcitrant husbands.
We are warriors. We are survivors. We are WOMEN.
And, so, I continue to write, hoping you'll find insights if not laughter in my small observations.
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