(Bunny slippers are sooo in, says Miss Dub)You know what I’m not looking forward to? Menopause.
I don’t want to do that again.
Yes, you heard me right. I’ve been through menopause. And about two years later, I gave birth to Miss Dub.
For those of you scratching yer heads, I’d like to inform you that there is such a thing as a medically-induced menopause. (Basically, it’s a shot that blocks your body from making estrogen.)
And for those of you considering a dip into the world of hot flashes, dry skin and horrific moodiness, I would say, “DO NOT DO IT!”
The whole issue started on my mission to El Salvador, where some doctors at a lovely hospital mistook a case of endometriosis for appendicitis. A surgery and an earthquake later, I found out my appendix had been martyred and that I’d been given near lethal doses of anesthesia. But I digress.
Upon my return to the states I underwent a laparoscopy to rid myself of now-diagnosed endometriosis (otherwise known as “wicked cramps”), but the silly disease just kept at it. So in desperation I turned to a doctor who recommended I take shots to inhibit estrogen, in hopes that it would “reboot” my womanly system and make the bad, bad endometriosis go away.
This is what I heard: “You’ll feel better.”
This is what he probably said: “It will suck so, so bad and you’ll want to die so why in the world would you ever submit to this horrible treatment, other than the small chance it will make your stupid-head disease go away?”
This is what I said: “Sign me up. Now!”
And within a few minutes, my menopause began.
I won’t go into details, but the next few months involved serious depression, terrible heat and lots and lots of crying. (Mostly due to an accidental overdose of the shot administered to me by a well-meaning nurse.)
It’s really a blur, to be honest, which is good. I hear that most trauma victims have to block bad memories in order to move on.
I don’t want to do that again.
Yes, you heard me right. I’ve been through menopause. And about two years later, I gave birth to Miss Dub.
For those of you scratching yer heads, I’d like to inform you that there is such a thing as a medically-induced menopause. (Basically, it’s a shot that blocks your body from making estrogen.)
And for those of you considering a dip into the world of hot flashes, dry skin and horrific moodiness, I would say, “DO NOT DO IT!”
The whole issue started on my mission to El Salvador, where some doctors at a lovely hospital mistook a case of endometriosis for appendicitis. A surgery and an earthquake later, I found out my appendix had been martyred and that I’d been given near lethal doses of anesthesia. But I digress.
Upon my return to the states I underwent a laparoscopy to rid myself of now-diagnosed endometriosis (otherwise known as “wicked cramps”), but the silly disease just kept at it. So in desperation I turned to a doctor who recommended I take shots to inhibit estrogen, in hopes that it would “reboot” my womanly system and make the bad, bad endometriosis go away.
This is what I heard: “You’ll feel better.”
This is what he probably said: “It will suck so, so bad and you’ll want to die so why in the world would you ever submit to this horrible treatment, other than the small chance it will make your stupid-head disease go away?”
This is what I said: “Sign me up. Now!”
And within a few minutes, my menopause began.
I won’t go into details, but the next few months involved serious depression, terrible heat and lots and lots of crying. (Mostly due to an accidental overdose of the shot administered to me by a well-meaning nurse.)
It’s really a blur, to be honest, which is good. I hear that most trauma victims have to block bad memories in order to move on.
And I’ve moved on. And the pain is basically gone, though it’s hard to say if it was worth it, especially considering the side effects (like permanent menopause) some people experience.
But the only problem is I have to do it again some day. (Maybe sooner than later consider my wacky girl parts.)
One day menopause will sneak up behind me and slyly whisper, “I’m baaack!”
At least this time I can wear a patch.
