Who would have believed it in August when I got back from holiday? Here I was in November, at a friend’s 40th birthday lunch, holding court over the other 10 women aged 30 something…ish.
There was one other woman my age. We were both having hot flushes.
I told the group, that as I had organised it, we were inside with aircon, and I hoped that was ok with them all, given my condition and all that. “And mine”, she chipped in. A fellow hot flush sufferer, I asked her, “which year are you in of your glorious decade?”
She replied, “year 3, you?”
I announced “year 3 as well”. We gave each other a high 5. I then got out my pill purse and tipped it out on the table. Everyone gasped and then cheered. I gave my new friend one of my quick acting get sachets as she was having a bit of a moment. She clearly didn’t generally out herself quite as much as I did, but was loving it. The Laurent and Perrier champagne also helped. Her, not me, I don’t drink alcohol, I am too sensitive – as you all know.
My god asked the others, how do you remember, which to take when?
I then proceeded to show them my systems of bleeps, clicks, harps sounds and doorbell buzzes, which get me through each day.
But the best was when I said, “it’s awful, but you do have that liberating thought on a regular basis, which is I’m menopausal, I’m over 50 and fuck it, I can do what I want and I don’t have to worry about what other people think any more…” “Amen to that,” said my new friend. “yes, fuck it, if I have to put up with hot flushes, and forgetting everything, then I don’t need to put up with other shit any more…”
Someone said, “I want that now, I aspire to be menopausal if I get that…..
What a great moment. Being me is COOL.