Grand Jokes of Life
I have a question. Is perimenopause the joke? Or is the joke the fact that we're all much healthier, stronger, and more limber, and that we're living longer, so that perimenopause is no longer the harbinger of dowager's hump that it used to be?
If you think about it, in the olden days, people were so miserable that perimenopause in your forties was the least of your problems. Unless, of course, you were like my waspier relatives, who were busy pickling themselves on cocktails and golfing their brains out. Then, you missed it and were just occasionally hit with a wave of depression. I think.
So, back to perimenopause. When I was 35, discovered that I was infertile. I spent about three and a half years and amazing amounts of money in trying to get pregnant (both with myself and with my wonderful surrogate mom, Shelly.) Eventually, as an act of pure magic, I ended up pregnant.
Infertility treatments are pretty nasty. You really muck around with your hormones. Not fun. Shots in the tummy, wierd measuremenets of your hormones. So I was less than pleased four years later to hear about perimenopause.
"You're probably going through it," said my doctor. "How long does it last?" I asked. "About ten years," he said.
Oh my goodness. Is that a cosmic joke, or what?
Probably.
At least I have a sense of humor.
I'll stick links and info in here as I find them. To start with, check out MUM - the museum to the left. Interesting topic, huh?
