Seriously Lord! Periods and Childbirth Pain Weren’t Enough?

Warning, this is a rant — Men, only read this if you want to have sympathy for the woman in your life.

I know Eve really blew it with the apple, but Adam was the man of the garden. He could have said, “No, dear. The Lord told us not to eat this fruit, so we’re not touching it.” She would have listened, I’m sure. 🙄 Now, we females get to pay for her sin for the rest of our lives.

The monthly periods that go along with the privilege of being able to give birth usually start at the age of twelve. It’s called the curse for good reasons. 👿 I don’t know any woman that enjoys them. After over 40 years of dealing with the pain, pads, and petulant personality that accompanies the curse, we’re blessed with menopause.

Whether it’s premenopause, menopause, or postmenopause, the pause is just as unpleasant as the curse. The difference is that you get to experience its effects on a daily basis. 🥵 The level of discomfort varies for us ladies. My best friend toughed it out and never took medication to relieve her misery. I know she’s a trooper, but I can’t imagine her going through what I did without seeking relief.

My misery began at age 52. I almost bled to death, sometimes twice in a month. I opted for a procedure called Endometrial ablation. It’s described as a minimally invasive surgical procedure used to treat heavy menstrual bleeding (periods). The procedure works by destroying the tissue in the uterus lining, which is called the endometrium. Simply put, the walls of your uterus are burned off. Sure, as shooting, it handled the bleeding issue.

I barely had time to enjoy the lack of the monthly curse when I was assaulted by menopause. 🥵😈 The hot flashes and night sweats were unbearable.

I owned and operated a bar and grill while traversing this life experience. I would be waiting on a customer, and suddenly, my face would burn red, and sweat would roll off my face in a torrent. Thank God for bev naps. The person I was waiting on would typically ask if I was okay. “Just having another personal summer,” I’d say.

Did I mention the night sweats? 🤯 Now, there’s a joy. I would be in a fitful sleep when suddenly a blow torch would accost my entire body. I’d throw the blankets off, but the fire did not subside. I eventually got a fan on a stand with a remote control that I sat next to my side of the bed, pointing right at my face.

When I felt like I’d cooled off a little, I’d start freezing to death. Fan off, blankets back on, and I’m shivering. I don’t think I got a straight four hours of sleep for a year.

When I had all I could stand, I went to my gynecologist for help. She put me on low-dose estrogen and progesterone. It was a Godsend. The flashes and night sweats went away, and my energy returned. I put the fan away, and my and my husband’s sleep improved.

He hated my night sweats almost as much as I did. 🥵

For over a decade, I took my daily meds and enjoyed being menopause free. I visited my doctor annually, and she filled my prescriptions for another year.

My husband and I became full-time RVers two and a half years ago. As we traveled across the country, doctor appointments became a serious pain in the backside.

Getting my prescriptions filled wasn’t a cakewalk either. Despite calling Walgreens and talking to a pharmacist in the store I wanted to fill my prescription, they would send it to the wrong store, sometimes in the wrong state. I switched to Walmart and ran into the same problem. 😣

I finally had enough. At 63, I reasoned that I didn’t need to worry about menopause anymore, and I slowly weaned myself off my meds. I was still taking my progesterone pills, which I’d cut in half when I ran out of my estrogen. Pharmacy screwups left me with more of one than the other.

Guess who made a valiant return? Hot flashes and, shortly behind them, night sweats. I’m 64, for pity’s sake. 😫

I’m back to blankets on, blankets off, and very little sleep at night. The hot flashes aren’t near as extreme as they were in my 50s, but they are still a misery. When does this insanity end?

I keep telling God that I think this isn’t fair. Adam ate the darn apple, too.

Thanks for giving me your time. If you are curious about who this whiner is this post will tell you a bit about me.

Check out my memoir. The life of a Christian woman, biker bar owner, married to an alcoholic was a wild ride.