51 and Hot

I turn 51 in a few weeks and realize I am early in my 6^th decade and not 5^th as I thought. That’s a significant jump and feels a little shocking, especially when I say it out loud.

My kids tease me about having been in menopause as long as they have known me and they think that’s pretty funny. The topic of menopause can be a sensitive one, so I will do my best to be tactful. The whole hot flush thing started for me a few years ago with night sweats. Added to that came day-sweats at the most inconvenient times. Eating food seemed to trigger a reaction, then I only had to get out of bed in the morning to start the furnace climbing. When women complained of hot flashes, I admit my sympathies were elsewhere. I mean, how bad could it be? It didn’t look like it hurt and what’s wrong with changing clothes a few times a day. At least it was a better reason than, “I felt like it”.

It only took a bit of experience with hot spells for the compassion to kick in and for me to realize the associated embarrassment and inconvenience is real as well as limiting. Granted, it’s not a 3^rd World concern, rather more 1^st World, however, when it’s happening at frequent intervals and with growing intensity, hot flashes can be quite disconcerting.

Why did I not just take HRT and get it over with? Twelve years ago, I made the decision that, if at all possible, I did not want to delay the natural aging process by submitting my body to hormone replacement therapy. The idea of ingesting pregnant horse urine was unappealing and so was the thought of experiencing the same symptoms when weaning time came. Add to that the sad fact that I have lost several friends to breast cancer and had no interest in increasing my own risks. Nope, no HRT for me!

During my last doctor’s appointment, he asked about “symptoms” and I related, in the least complaining voice I could muster, that my ability to sustain a regular temperature needed work. He assured me that menopause means a “short pause” so symptoms should lessen as time went on and reminded me that everyone is different. He recommended I look into some natural alternatives, which I had already done to no avail. Hope for relief felt a little thin at that point.

I decided it was up to me to get through with the most positive spin I could muster. Whatever my internal clock intends, and in whatever physical way my body responds, for the first time in my life, I am considering myself a hottie, at least in the hormonal sense of the word.