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Column: There should be a National Menopause Day

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For most women, menopause begins in their mid-50s. Hot flashes typically continue for two to three years.

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By WENDY ORBEN

Special to the Tribune

Published: October 14, 2009

A ceramic mug called out to me from a bargain store aisle. The caption read: "REAL WOMEN DON'T HAVE HOT FLASHES, THEY HAVE POWER SURGES." My kitchen cabinet is full of mugs, but the $1 price clinched the sale. The mug hopped into my shopping cart and followed me home.

My other mugs are jealous and resentful because I use this cup exclusively. Oh, how the saying speaks to me. I'm a 59-year-old menopausal woman, an eight-year flashing and surging survivor.

Before hot flashes, I rarely ran my air conditioning. Hot weather didn't bother me. Now I can't get enough blasting, frigid air.

A girlfriend in the throes of menopause jokingly said to me, "You probably won't even know when you're having a flash." And, indeed, my first flashes were so slight, it took me a while to catch on. I wiped the perspiration from my face and wondered, "Is this a hot flash?" All doubt was quickly removed as I soon began flashing like a neon sign.

I decided to start recording the length and frequency of my flashes, even carried paper and pencil in my pocket. Big mistake! The flashes consumed my thoughts, like a dieter counting calories.

But I did gather valuable information: The average duration was 10 minutes, and the flashes occurred approximately every hour with a total of about 20 a day. Sometimes, I felt nauseous. At the end of the day I'd have a throbbing head and feel utterly drained.

My body has adjusted, no longer getting the headaches or nausea, but the exhaustion remains.

Once, while we were hugging, my boyfriend inquired, "Are you flashing?"

"How can you tell?"

His response, as he wiped the sweat from my upper lip: "Because you're smoking hot."

Standing in front of a fan that almost blows me off my feet does help. But the greatest relief comes from opening the freezer door, sticking my head inside and breathing a sigh of relief as the heavenly arctic air flows over my body. My boyfriend finds this maneuver hysterical, but it's a matter of survival. I dream about removing the shelves, climbing in and closing the door.

Hormone replacement therapy is not an option for me. "Tough it out," my doctor said.

"But they're tougher than me," I exclaimed. "They're winning!"

When I asked how long I'd be having flashes, she replied, "How long do you plan on living?"

I was hoping she had a good sense of humor, but she wasn't smiling. My neighbor, in her late 60s, told me she still gets flashes. That information didn't make my day.

My daughter-in-law, a nurse, suggested soy milk. Soy contains small amounts of estrogen. It seemed to help, but there's only so much soy one can drink. I graduated to soy tablets, then black cohosh. I tried both together.

Finally, I became acquainted with Estroven, an over-the-counter supplement that contains both of these herbs, as well as calcium, B12 and iron — all necessary ingredients for a body like mine, riding the plummeting hormonal Tower of Terror.

I used to have big and little flashes. Now, all are ballistic. Everything I try helps for awhile; but these flashes adapt and mutate faster than strains of bacteria.

Some days, I have only a few; other days, they come like trains during rush hour. They even stop for short periods, luring me into a false sense of security and messing with my mind. I know they're sneering: "We'll be back!" And so far they always do come back — with a vengeance.

But they don't come when I want them to. A warm day turned into an unusually cold night, and I shivered. "Where's a flash when you need one?"

Not one appeared, but I could hear them snickering in the background.

My daughter says my mood swings go from out of my mind to just plain grouchy and unbearable. My boyfriend doesn't always understand my moods, either. I would like to zap him with a power surge and enlighten him. The closest he ever came to comprehending was when I shouted, "It's like running a marathon in 120 degree weather after you've ingested a furnace!"

A friend told me I should wear a headband to keep the sweat off my brow. I told him I need a sweat band for my entire body. I don't feel my feet sweating when I flash, but from the ankles up, every pore gushes and glistens. I've taken to walking around with a towel over my shoulder. When I'm at home I don't wear a bra, so I can just yank up my top and mop.

My girlfriend gets night sweats that are so bad, she has to change the sheets. I don't have that problem. The flashes wake me, and I get out of bed. So all I have to change is my nightshirt.

I think there should be a National Menopause Day. To commemorate the day, menopausal women all over the country could come together to celebrate their womanhood. Real women can stuff their faces, share war stories, join hands in solidarity.

And with one huge power surge, we could light up the towns and cities.

Wendy Orben is a 20-year resident of Tampa. She has a medical lab technician degree but is currently working in a hotel where she meets people from all over the world. She has been a volunteer usher at the Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center for nine years.

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