No More Head In The Sand

No More Head In The Sand

I know it is April, but in my life, April is the new January. I can summarise late 2014 and early 2015 like this.

August close business and have a really busy family holiday.

September very tired and guess what – still peri-menopausal.

October start blogs on the glorious decade, while having the symptoms in fabulous techni-colour.

November do an on-line course, and then decide to publish blog in book form.

December publish book as it seemed like a really good idea and have another really busy family holiday.

January and February am SNOOKERED.  Oh yes, and as if I could forget. After 8 months of no periods, I have PMS and a period which lasts 10 minutes.  Then the same happens in February – exactly 4 weeks later. Lucky or what.  2 x 10 minute periods – I kid you not.

March I decide I must stop eating worms.  Have amoebic dysentery from yukky food when I was taking part in the Kilimanjaro Marathon – get back to Dar es Salaam and am on a drip to get re-hydrated.  Finish gut antibiotics which feel like barbed wire scraping out your guts..because that is what they do to get rid of the bugs.

At the same time I was sick at the marathon I also had a spot INSIDE my nose.  OMG the pain. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I couldn’t stop, as I had to share how horrid it was.  It actually made my nose swell up so that if you looked at me straight on, I looked lopsided.

Once I had finished the food poisoning and ghastly nose boil, I start my scheduled 10 days of progesterone tablets.  This experience was appalling and I was again like a lamb to the slaughter.  I currently take an oestrogen-only HRT tablet, as the doctor thought I might go nuttier if I took progesterone as well at the same time.  It can make you more moody ha ha!  So in my last visit in December as my estrogen levels seemed to be levelling off, I could now start my progesterone, necessary to protect my girly tackle from cancer.  BUT I had such side effects. First deluge of blood, couldn’t get up from sitting down without worrying about leakage.  Second moody, horrid, old cow.  Third TIRED.  I hadn’t realised that there would be side effects.  I spoke to a friend going through and she said she had to stop taking progesterone only tablets as well as they were ‘vicious’.

I had a eureka moment as I realised I hadn’t looked the tablets up or really understood if I needed to take them.  I had just started taking them as it was the negative, scary thought of getting cancer that I focused on.  However my hubs said that I would have to go and live on a farm on my own three times a year for 10 days if I continued taking them according to the recommended dosage. My daughter was also horrified at the alternately yelly and teary monster who had taken over her mother’s body. Plus she got fed up having to rush and get tampons all the time as I was having emergencies all over the place.

I have learnt some wonderful “knowledge” about hormones this past 6 months. Having started knowing really nothing and being appalled at my own ignorance, I have now decided that I won’t be putting my head in the sand about my own health and darling hormones any more!   So now you can all ignore my key message from last year which was don’t read anything as it is too scary and just exercise or die.

I have the character type called Dynamo apparently, which is great at ideas, great at initiatives, great at getting carried away with all sorts of initiatives, hates rules, prefers to work alone and has a reputation for eccentricity… When you add peri-menopause into the mix well no wonder my life is all so extreme.

Struth, I thought neck breathing was a bad day. So far from January to March, I have only done jaw breathing.  I have high hopes for April.

So message to Little Miss Dynamo Self. In the words of the great Paul Simon;

“Slow down, you move too fast. You’ve gotta to make the moment last…”

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