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I've never been a woman who struggles with aging. At 30, people seemed to expect me to regret my lost youth, and I didn't. At 40, people seemed to expect me to have some kind of crazy crisis, and I didn't. I'm 45 years old and I like being 45 years old. I'm looking forward to 50. Or am I?
Though I've never had that aging angst that I read about in women's magazines and women's blogs, I have to be honest and say that there is one thing about getting older that's starting to really bug me - the loss of menstruation.
I like menstruation. I've always liked it. Now that I'm getting older, my cycle is unpredictable (to put it mildly) and it's beginning to make me really cranky. I didn't mind the short cycles - 21 days, every month was ok by me because I could still rely on the fact that I was going to menstruate sometime around day 21. Those 21 day cycles are gone and I'm all over the calendar now.
For awhile, in October, I was afraid I was never going to menstruate again. And when I did, I wanted to throw a party... until TW informed me that I'd had a 30 day cycle in July, too. That made me a little less interested in celebrating because it reminded me that my cycle she is a mess and that means I really am getting closer to the day when menstruation is a thing of the past.
It makes me nervous but I still like being 45 and I'm still looking forward to 50. Except when I'm not.
Like Monday, October 27.
Mondays are crazy busy for me and this one was extra busy. It was also freezing here in Illinois and I hate freezing. Also, the heat in the front of the house wasn't working (again) and I was grouchy about that. Monday, October 27 I was not in a good mood at ALL.
But the landlord arrived and informed us that the pilot had simply gone out, apparently the cover had fallen off and it's windy down there in the basement or something. Hah. I was feeling more hopeful but still grouchy. Nice Mr Landlord headed to his house to grab some new screws to put the cover to the pilot on properly and tripped over a package sitting on our steps. He carried it in, handed it to me and went about his business.
Yay! A package on our steps! I love unexpected packages in the mail! I asked TW if she'd ordered something - she hadn't. She asked who it was addressed to - it was addressed to me. I open the box, expecting something wonderful... and what do I find?
Menopause.
Menopause arrived in the mail. Unsolicited.
Hmph. WhatEVER.
I do not really need a big pharma who shall remain nameless to remind me that menopause is coming. I've got the crazy cycles doing a good job of that already, thank you very much. I also do not need whoever sold my brand new address and age to big pharma to do so again. It ticks me off that I have no idea how big pharma got my new address and birthdate. It ticks me off that big pharma thinks I'm at all interested in hearing "a thoughtful perspective on menopause and hormone therapy". And it really really ticks me off that big pharma sent me a handheld fan on a really long cord that I can hang around my damn neck. NO THANK YOU. I do not need menopause to arrive, unsolicited, in the mail.
The only good thing about my menopause package was that it sent me off to read women blogging about menopause (though that caused me to start missing Sue Richards who is fighting Parkinsons and no longer blogs at Menopause. I miss Sue.)
Here's a 4am Menopause Rant.
Ummm Family Menopause Education Night? aye yi yi, No TW we are not doing this. Do not even think about it.
(Which reminds me, I'm having a hard time finding LESBIAN menopause blogging - anyone know where I can find that?)
Please excuse me
