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Until a year or so ago, I’d never experienced anything that could have been labeled PMS. I could certainly tell when Auntie Flo was rollin’ into town, but it was never severe enough to warrant any more than a glance at the calendar and a check to ensure that my purse was stocked with the appropriate supplies.
But now…dude. At least a week before the date in question, I begin losing my mind. It’s really not pleasant. I do my best to maintain a stable disposition, but wow it’s not easy.
Recently I took stock of the changes in my body and mind. I glanced at the calendar. Yep, I was FTS. I was FTS within a couple of days max.
I was fixing to start—but I didn’t start.
My friend and I jokingly talked over our methods of birth control (redundantly severed tubes and vasa, encasement in latex). We decided that conception was impossible, utterly impossible. And yet I toyed with the idea of picking up a test along with the milk, bread and cans of fruit, because if there is one thing that nature does quite well, it is this: It finds a way.
As the unbloodied days passed, the PMS grew. Or was it PMS? I looked back at the calendar. Had I somehow miscalculated? Was it possible that stress had delayed the onslaught? Where the hell was Auntie Flo?
Then a friend helpfully pointed out my age. I’m on the cusp of 40. My mother began the ‘pause in her early 40s.
I googled around. I chanced upon a list of menopausal symptoms. I kept a mental tally while reading through the list. I seem to have 75% of the typical symptoms.
I’m earning a solid “C” in menopause.
Now I realize that I’m quite young to be officially in menopause. I also realize that many of the symptoms are nebulous and easily misinterpreted. But I need to accept that the process is probably at least beginning.
Eight days late, my period did start. I felt an almost instantaneous sense of relief, not because I was ever truly worried about becoming a mother again but only, I believe, from the fast shift of hormones.
“Hormone wrangling” is what my doctor calls the management of these out-of-control chemicals. If it’s going to take the loss of my period to get my hormones adequately wrangled, I’m to the point where I think that would be a right nice idea.
Anybody else at the same place? How did you know that you were starting this phase? Do tell.



