Once upon a time, long ago and far away there is an Isle of Women. It has been said in old folklore that when women were menstrating, with child (illegitimate), Adulteresses, and women whom having had met their maximum usage -via age and ability; were all sent away from their Village to live amongst themselves on the Isle of Women for the remainder of their years on Earth (except for the menstrating young women).
The women usually left their homes with just the clothing on their backs and food that they carried.
Of course this cloaked migration of women usually included the one’s with sage wisdom and especially those who were childless and going through what we now call “Menopause”.
Being barren was a huge deal back then so the fact that they lived long enough to be sent away on their final relocation is quite astounding.
By them being gone, it gave the local men of the tribes/ villages a chance to procreate with the younger females and continue their legacy.
Basically, few women lived long enough for men to find useful in such harsh conditions. True love was seldom a factor of couples. Most were betrothed.
The new village of older women would usually have an abundance of medicines created out of necessity and become mistakenly referenced as witches. The young women who finished their menses would return to their villages with fantastic stories seldom shared with the men and a new knowledge of wonder which proved helpful in midwifery.
Thank gooodness we don’t do that anymore! Alas, I do feel a cloak is needed for myself now though, I have been diagnosed, by a well respected doctor in the field of Endocrinology, with Menopause. *SHOCK! GASP! AWE!
I got a lab slip but no ticket to the “Isle of Women”. What am I going to do now? Just live as I was, prior to yesterday? Is that possible?
I’ve read that women have been able to use P.M.S. and Menopause as defense strategies within our current court system. The hormonal upheaval can and apparently has caused all sorts of problems for men to understand and learn to cope with. Which in turn causes the women in their lives to kill, maim, or hurt them.
I’m frustrated. I know that Menopause is not the end of the universe anymore. I also know that the age range is right. But jeez does it have to be now? My husband admitted that he’s “not loving the idea” either. Who wants to live with someone with these symptoms?
Whole body: fatigue, hot flashes, night sweats, osteoporosis, or sweating
Sleep: early awakening or insomnia
Also: anxiety, dry skin, irritability, moodiness, reduced sex drive.
Just to name a few.
Where is my island?
And Mary Kay
Even if you don’t know one
You know another
But you don’t know why
You suddenly need something new
Amongst the party and fun.
Oh sure you already have it
But it’s old or not the same shade
It is so much better
Because of its brand name
These parties are for the go-getters
Oh yes I get sucked in too
How many cookie stones
Book bags, lip glosses etc
Am I to use?
“Who do I make
My check out to?
Is that after tax?
Oh wow! Okay.
It’s for a good cause, you say?”
To be invited to so many
Parties makes you wonder
Am I that much of a sucker?
To not be invited is curious too.
Aren’t we friends?
If not me, then who?
I now have two pancake batter shakers,
A laptop zip around,
Foundation, blush and brushes
Enough to last for years and abound.
Coffee and cats
Who is to say
How these cats know
What’s in my cup each day.
But they do
Or at least they must
Because when my cup is set down,
It’s secret is a bust.
I keep my cup covered
To help in case of a spill
That is inevitable
With a swipe and a grin.
I swear my cats grin
When they swipe at my cup
The dogs wait under the edge
Of the table looking up
I think that they
are in cahoots
The cats swipe
The dogs lick
Nothing is sacred
From the juice they pick.
So I actually got a sign
From my husband
“Do not leave food unsupervised!”
Because of the cats
My cups of coffee
And the puddle that lies
(On the floor.)
Yesterday was quite the adventure for me. I had an appointment downstate with a doctor and it was set for 3:15 pm.
It didn’t matter whatever else got done, as long as I could get to my doctor appointment on time. With a two hour drive to get there, and my disdain for early mornings. I knew the window of wiggle room was between nine am and eleven am. Lunch was it’s own “must have” somewhere within this day.
So off we went! South again! We stopped in two towns for little “pop-in’s” before the rest of the drive became a blur of blacktop and trees. (I spy…. vertical log. Tree! Okay, your turn).
First, Oscoda! Need sustenance. McDonalds will do.
Second. Tawas. I like a certain flavor of Jelly Belly and The Village Chocolatier carries the individual flavors for some jelly beans that I wanted.
Next, Standish. I had the pleasure of meeting the Shopper and self described “fluffer” of stuff for the Forward Corporation in Standish. She was super nice. I tried convincing her to buy my book to carry at her gas stations. Then I found out she’s part of the fourth generation of that corporation and does more than just “fluff”. We’re still looking into adding my book to their inventory.
Next stop, The Electric Chair tattoo and body piercings in Bay City. Naturally Charlotte was with us and it was too hot to keep her in the car, we all went inside.
For a bunch of burly, stereotypical men and women, one little pooch can sure make a difference in the atmosphere. She was quite the star. Anyway, I got a new piece of jewelry and we were on our way.
Starbucks. Enough said.
If you don’t know me, Starbucks is my kryptonite. If you do know me, venti caramel macchiato.
It’s time to go home, but now I’m hot, and uncomfortable. It’s muggy and 80°+ and the windows in the car do little to block the sun.
I’d guess 75% of folks would be comfortable in that scenario. But not my body! No way! I know this because I had a bit of a “spell” by four pm.
I hate to sweat, but I was sweating. I hate to feel out of sorts, but there was no semblance to what my twitching, head bobbing, speech slurring and overall “out of it” countenance was doing.
Maybe I had done too much.
Maybe I hadn’t had the right kind of fuel.
Maybe it was just too humid.
Maybe it was because it was a Tuesday, in June. I don’t know.
I just don’t know. This is what makes traveling or planning anything almost impossible. My body is so random at what it will cooperate for that I hate making plans, or leaving my lair for any length of time.
It’s been twelve hours and I feel like a whole other body or person now. But I’m at home in my air conditioning, next to my husband, in bed.
I just don’t know what else I can do to find the place in my life that will let me feel normal again. I’m discouraged, disappointed and hurt. I’m not living right now.
Hashimoto’s and Hypothyroidism
Sometimes I feel like I need to explain these invisible diseases over & over again. Let’s start with the most obvious:
• The definition of invisible is
Look at me….
Really look. Do I look like I have a chronic series of diseases? Be honest. Make-up not with-standing of course. Are my eyes vacant? Do I look Jaundiced? How about tubes and cords? See any of those? Me neither. This is not trick photography. This is me.
Now, examine my blood chemistry. Can you? Are you able? No? Well according to the blood work specialists my chemistry is off by an innumerable percent. I lack moderation in all aspects of absorption. That means, I take a lot of medicines hoping something will “stick” and have a chance to dissolve and work for me. WARNING ⚠️, I’m about to be crude… I can usually notice/ see my whole pills in the toilet after I’ve gone number two.⚠️. What a waste of money, right? Right.
This phenomenon is called Malabsorption.
If the meds don’t absorb there they don’t make it anywhere. Kinda like an old Broadway 🎭 song.
Let’s review: Brande has diseases, you can’t see them but she can feel the myriad of symptoms.
My small intestine doesn’t absorb the medicine to make me better. I am at the will and call of the environment in which I am established at the time. Goody.
I know this. Technically my friends and family know it too. Problem. We all forget. Unless I have my cane, it’s easy to forget. I have good and bad days/ moments. I usually don’t have much of a warning. If you are a victim of hot flashes and insta-migraines, you may understand how fast and hardcore my symptoms hit me.
So why am I writing about this again? Simple. I forget. I try to do things like I used to, and get so angry when I can’t. I have to remind myself. So, if I need to be reminded or re-enlightened, you must need to as well.
My Body is NOT Cooperating (part two).
My first attempt at explaining this phenomenon is a part of book one. Yet here we go again. Thank you “White Snake” for those wise lyrics.
It all started this time on Sunday morning before the sunrise. I was awake at 2:40 am with a headache. I took my medicine specifically for headaches and went back to sleep.
By the time I was up for the day (6:30 am ish), I felt much better. It had been raining all day and night Saturday so I should have expected the humidity. I did, actually. It was the rest of me that took a nose dive into Hashimoto’s Oblivion.
By 11 am I felt terrible and sought out the assistance of a masseuse. The Festival was full of them! I chose the closest one to my booth and threw myself down for the hook up.
She took out her crystals and stones and went to work on me. She did say, “This is going to hurt. Will your have time to rest tomorrow?”
“Yes. Just fix me now and I’ll deal with the aftermath tomorrow. Please?”
“Okay. But you will more than likely feel out of sorts late today and probably for the next three days.”
Plop! I was on her massage table.
She did an Esteric massage. That means, it wasn’t the usual touchy-feely type. However, it did kick my ass; and it didn’t wait until late afternoon to knock me out. I had to turn everything over to my mom and leave the Festivities early. I got back to my hotel room and (for all sakes and purposes) passed out for about three hours. The following days were just as difficult to manage. I’m certain that I will be back to a healthier me soon.
I think the moral of this story is that my body is still healing. (I hope) and it needs to be “Esteric-ed” further down the road or at least not when I’m hurting already. I went to a masseuse to feel better and my body did not cooperate.
Ya know what! These days I’m getting really sick and tired of being sick and tired. 👹
A really good friend told me that I have got to learn how to work smarter with my body. That people around me have to learn that I am different now. My body and personality are going through some really big changes that I cannot sweep up and toss out. I think she’s right.
So for those who have known me and loved me, I would love your continued support. And to those who have just gotten to know me these past two or three years, thank you for loving me, for who I am today.