I think mine are in full-on rage. Or, completely gone. Or, I contracted malaria in the jungles of my farm.
Trying to change one’s eating habits at this age is no picnic. But, looking back at my food journals, I’m doing pretty well overall.
Exercise, not so much. What is complicating matters as far as exercise goes is the fatigue that has settled in my body over the past week. That, and symptoms that I’m just about to have a visit from cousin Mary. Or whatever it is that happens when we are too old to put up with Mary, but, in God’s Infinite Wisdom, He decides that instead of just ending menstruation, period, we need a gentle, gradual withdrawal phase to ease the transition. As if stopping cold-turkey the sore boobs, bloating, melancholy and feminine hygiene products will be too traumatic for us to endure. Which is odd for God to decide that, given that in that same gentle weaning phase, He throws in some fresh new traumas like hot flashes and night sweats.
In a word, menopause. The pause between men-strual cycles and o-thank God that’s finally over.
As hypochondriacal as I am not, the fatigue has been sufficiently life-impacting that I was thinking flu? hypothyroidism? mono? spinal meningitis? I Google “menopause fatigue” — And I discover that there is something called “crash fatigue” as a symptom of menopause. That is what it feels like, a total crash-and-burn. No survivor.
Since I have already decided that I’m not going to do hormone-replacement therapy, I next Google “menopause fatigue treatment.” I get “get more and better sleep” as the Number One treatment. Oh, please. Tell that to Lulu the Hurricane in a Dog Package who adopted my bed quicker than she adopted the freshly baked whole turkey breast left on the counter by the stupid Human Treat Dispenser.
But with help from Google’s Infinite Wisdom, I find some supplements, estrogen replacement via plants or something, not an illegal weight-loss drug per the Commandments. I’ll try it. I’ll try anything to get back the Human part of the Treat Dispenser. Not that Lulu will care. She has the bed. And a cat.