As with all good intentions…The great practice of medicine being practice, the great physician and I decided it would be a wonderful idea to rid me of my female problems; this way I could concentrate on my Addison’s Disease. I had a host of issues, so this seemed like a great plan to me! Off I went to the hospital, loaded up on steroids, ready for the big day. The surgery for the hysterectomy went great; the next day I went home with my little tube of estrogen-in-a-pump. I am a great planner, or my friends are incredibly paranoid; I had a bottle at work, several strategically placed around the house, one in my purse, one in my work bag, and one in my car. There was no way I was going to forget to use this stuff! Menopause was not for me.
Fast forward six months. I had gained thirty – yes, THIRTY – pounds, felt depressed and tired, my blood pressure had shot up like fireworks on the Fourth of July, and what, oh what was wrong with me NOW?
The internist proceeded to send me back to the gynecologist. She knew…but he did not believe. However, he ran the blood test anyway. It came back, and we all let out a huge breath when we found out this hormone replacement therapy had been doing NOTHING for me. NOTHING at all! Unlike most women who get to gradually ease into menopause, my parts were ripped out of my body; I went there overnight! All those little bottles everywhere…useless. Now we start again.
So if life were not thrilling enough, dealing with all of the ups and downs of having a husband, a job, a daughter, and stinky old Addison’s, I was now a thirty-something-year-old woman in full-blown hairy-scary witchy-bitchy menopause.
After being on the patch for two weeks, those chin hairs did not seem to be fading…on the positive side, my husband was no longer the only one who could grow facial hair in this house.