Symptoms of Menopause - What Pauses, What Stops, What Speeds Up

I'm a 1947 vintage, uncorked to reveal a spicy bouquet. I'll talk about a variety of things here - some issues about which I feel strongly, some observations on newsworthy events, mostly observations on the life of a 2X-er. No, not somebody who wears size 2X. Somebody with two X chromosomes. Someone blessed with a higher number of neurons across the corpus callosum between the right and left halves of the brain. Someone who, for several years, has had none of her eggs in any basket - but all her marbles well in hand, and a diversified stock portfolio, thank you.

Uppity women, unite!

I speak to those who are older and have better insurance. (How many times have you watched Fried Green Tomatoes?) There exist unthinkable thoughts, and sometimes I will think them out loud here. I heartily invite you to share yours, as well. No taboo subjects. No more Ms Nice Girl. No old "should" tapes running in our heads from our 1950's mothers or our 1960's support groups. We have lived long enough to know the real deal, and yes, we will talk about it. I'll start today, with the fact of all our lives that gave birth to the banner of this column.

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Come in out of the cold about the joys of menopause. Yes, joys. You know them. Talk about freedom!

Do not whine about menopause being the turning point from which we know we are growing old. The first 30-something who called you "ma'am" told you that. Your daughter growing new breasts as your own began to sag told you that. The first crow's foot at your eye told you that until it was joined by other laugh-lines. Menopause is just a bit less convenient for awhile. Hot flashes exist. So does hormone replacement. So do exercise and black cohosh. So do female doctors who will help you find the right coping mechanisms for your own body. And, just in time, you're resourceful enough and persistent enough to find what's right for you.

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Changes in Latitude. Some measures of health rise; others fall. My own menopause was no picnic, starting with the hot flashes. Talk about mood-swings! Menopausal women get crabby because we are sleep-deprived from nighttime hot flashes. Hated it! My family and personal medical history allowed hormone replacement to work for me. Yours may not - try something else. Do not go gentle - you' re too irritable from sleep deprivation to go gentle, anyway. Get help. My boyfriend worried that hormone replacement would make me "lose my edge." I told him not to worry. Estrogen isn't Prozac.

On top of the expected hormonal dry-up, my thyroid went south with the rest of the girls. A male doctor told me that my thyroid count was normal when it was at the very bottom of the normal range, and let me suffer another six months wondering why I felt tired all the time and was gaining weight. Then his female nurse practitioner told me exactly how "normal" my thyroid count had been. I found another doctor, had another test, and soon thereafter started taking Synthroid. Bingo!

Changes in Attitude. I think, in some ways, the irritability of menopause-induced sleep-deprivation is a survival mechanism. It makes us far less tolerant of others' supposed authority if its dictates benefit us naught. Sort of like the founding mothers' attitude toward England. It's good to return to fundamentals sometimes. If it doesn't work, fix it or replace it. That applies to hormones and doctors, alike. Doctors and women, that's a-whole-nother article. Let me know what you think about doctors' interactions with female patients "of a certain age."

There is a Zen view of a bowl. Look at a bowl. You see the physical bowl. What is important about the bowl? What about the bowl benefits you, nourishes you? Not the bowl itself, but what is in the bowl. Now look at menopause. All your eggs were in one basket. The eggs are gone. What benefits you is whatever is in the basket. I say, refill your basket with the valuables you truly value!

Mine-opause

Now, I know that women have taken to calling hot flashes "power surges," and they certainly can be, but no euphemism will make up for their drain on your energy. Still, I've heard many women mention the same surge of creative power I experienced. Look for your own creative bursts. Fill your bowl with those.

I used this new energy to re-focus on my life's mission and directed that energy following my dreams. I started by throwing a Menopause Party for my female friends and all their mothers and daughters that they could bring. We played with our dreams, we wrote ourselves positive messages to tuck into pockets and under telephones for later when we'd need them, we affirmed our lives, our values and our missions. We continue to support each other. After a steep and winding path, climbing new hills and enjoying new vistas, here I am finding new mountaintops . . . and still climbing.

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One lesson menopause validated for me: I am not a body that has spirit; I am a spirit that has a body for awhile. When my body began visibly aging, needing more conscious effort from me (the spirit) to maintain it as a serviceable vehicle, at the same time that I (the spirit) felt my highest-volume, most mature creativity blossom, then I knew who and what "I" am. I am the spirit; I have the body. Yes, I know I just said that. I say it with every breath. Now, I know why I'm breathing. I know the nature of my power.

What is your power? Talk to me. Come on. Send me a signal from your own mountain top, or from wherever along your path you happen to be, on any topic that is your passion. Send the signal to, at least, yourself.