Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot

I, like many women my age, have been riding the happy hormonal roller coaster of THE CHANGE (cue ominous music) over the past few years. What no one tells you, however, is that your family members are forced to get on the coaster with you. And there is no amount of Dramamine that will cure the motion sickness of this up and down, multi-looping, gut-wrenching ride.

To all the gentlemen who have clicked on this and are about to think, "Oh, hell, no!" and switch over to YouTube or ESPN.com, bear with me.  This applies to you, too.

Menopause is in many ways like pregnancy.  Your body temperature changes.  Your clothes don't fit.  Your moods swing more often than a pendulum.  Only you don't get a bouncing bundle of joy as a reward for surviving it.  What you do get is clothes that still don't fit, the feeling that you are constantly in a state of PMS, and family members who think you are losing your mind.

I've had symptoms for the past few years, but they came on in full force this January.  I wake up in the middle of the night throwing off blankets, then wake up again about 30 minutes later because I am freezing.  I feel like crying over mundane things, one minute, then the next go on my merry way as if nothing has happened.  Half of what is in my closet does not fit correctly.

I began doing some research and trying some herbs that seemed to work for other women.  And, not wanting my family to contact mental health professionals, I tried my best to go on as normal.  And my family played along not wanting to release the hormonal she-beast lurking just beneath the surface. Everyone tried to act as though all was well.

But the truth was they were all on my nerves.  My husband was on my nerves.  My kids were on my nerves.  Even the dog was on my nerves.  My son would come in asking what was for dinner, and I would respond with whatever was on the menu for that night.  But in the back of my mind, I was thinking, "I don't want to have dinner with you people.  I want to have dinner by myself.  In a cave on the highest peak of Mount Everest only accessible to mountain goats." And by "dinner," I meant a five-pound box of chocolates and a bottle of anything that contained the word "alcohol" in the ingredients.

We all react differently to the magical world of menopause.  Some, like myself, could often fake it.  Others not so much.  I know a woman who got into an argument with her husband when he accused her of exaggerating her symptoms.  She responded by throwing a bunch of broccoli at his head.  Of course, it was better than throwing the knife that was in her other hand at the time.

She has my sympathy.  Been there, sister.

There are plenty of books and websites with advice for those going through menopause.  But I saw very little that offered guidance for the loved ones of hormone-ravaged women like myself.  Therefore, I would like to offer the following suggestions to those who are forced along on this hot-flashing, crying-jagging, Dr.Jekyll-and-Mrs. Hyde of a journey:

• If your significant other says, "It's hot in here," don't argue with her.  Shut your pie-hole and turn down the damn thermostat.

• When she is complaining about how miserable her symptoms make her feel, do not respond with "Well, at least you're not..." then launch into a litany of your own complaints.  Your one and only safe response to this is, "Here, have a glass of wine."

• When she opens yet another gallon of ice cream do not ask her, "Do you really need that?"  Ask her if she wants a glass of wine to go with it.

• If she asks if her outfit makes her look fat or if it appears she is gaining weight, DO NOT AGREE!!! Respond with, "That damned dryer is shrinking everything again!"

• When you have absolutely no idea how to respond to her moods, complaints or quirks, return to your safety mode, which is the phrase, "Here, have a glass of wine."

The good news for all of us that go through menopause, and those loved ones who are dragged along helplessly with us, is that it does not last forever.  I am almost to the point where I can wear sweaters again.  And the desire to throw cruciferous vegetables at the heads of family members is lessening.

So, to all my friends who are in the same hot, hormonal boat, and to those who love them, I say, have faith.  This, too, shall pass.

And don't worry, ladies.  We're still hot.  It just comes in flashes now.