It has been two and a half years since I last paid my doctor a visit to talk about the menopause. Today I find myself walking across Bath to the doctors surgery once again.
Whilst walking along in the morning sun, my mind starts running through how the conversation will go. I ask myself how to define menopause in one word. The answer – torture. Over the last two and a half years the hot flushes did come and go in the early days, but these last twelve months have been nothing but constant hot flushes. I feel a broken woman. Like most women, you just have to get on with it. Grin and bear it. Isn’t that what women are good at?
It has been hell. I feel like a prisoner who has constantly been tortured every single day, and today I have given in to their demands. Give me a pen and I will sign on the dotted line. I will sign anything you want me to agree to, just stop the pain!
Even as I walk, my mind is asking me if I am doing the right thing. If the doctor could tell me when this torture will end then I will just get on with it. What’s a few more months when I have come this far?
Like most women, I have done my research on HRT. Read everything I could get my hands on. I have even been surprised that there are some benefits to the treatment that I didn’t know. It is not a negative drug. I feel that I have been scare mongered into thinking this. As with everything in life, there will always be an element of risk involved.
Having sat down with the doctor and gone through all the small print in her medical book, I left with a prescription. It feels weird. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Should I or shouldn’t I take this medication? Well, if you don’t take it you will never know, and am I prepared to carry on with this torture I ask myself.
If you have a menopause or HRT story, then maybe you could share it with me.