Image by ( kema keur ) via Flickr

Eight years ago it became necessary for me to undergo a TAH-BSO. (In layman’s terms, that means they took the crib and left the playpen.) Immediate menopause – ten or fifteen years before I would have experienced it in the normal course of things. My doctor recommended HRT (hormone replacement therapy) and I started the medication before I even left the hospital. Never suffered from any of the horror stories of menopause, such as night sweats, hot flashes, mood swings (other than the “normal” swings all people go through) or growing hair in strange places. Lucky me, right?

Well, certain family medical conditions came to light that made HRT not such a good choice for me, and so the medication was stopped. Here we go, I thought. I’m entering Menopause Hell.

Actually, I didn’t feel any different. Still no night sweats, no hot flashes (other than those that come from watching “Survivor” – that Jeff Probst is dreamy,) no mood swings (although my children might say otherwise) and there was an occasional stray hair, but nothing that a good pair of tweezers or a hot wax strip couldn’t handle.

Until I lost 40 pounds.

Oh, Lordy. I didn’t realize that a woman gains weight in perimenopause in preparation for the Big M when it hits. I didn’t realize the reason for this (from the body’s point of view) is because a woman’s fat cells (which are five times bigger than a man’s, which is grossly unfair, in my opinion) contains estrogen, and my weight loss, although healthy, triggered the Fun That Is Menopause eight years after the surgery.

NOW I get it. I never thought my fat served such an important purpose. Not only do I have night sweats, but I could be standing in the middle of Antarctica, stark naked in a blinding blizzard in the middle of January and STILL be sweating like a prostitute in church. I mean, these hot flashes SUCK.

And the hair thing? Let’s just say, Sasquatch has nothing on me, at least as far as facial hair goes. It’s pretty sad when you can grow a thicker beard than your grown son. You know it’s bad when you give up on the tweezers and hot wax and go for the weed-whacker.

*Sigh*

On the up side, menopause has been good to me, I must admit. No more periods (HALLELUJAH) and no more PMS (PRAISE BE.) Don’t have to worry about birth control (YAY) and actually, when you lose your uterus or journey through menopause, a lot of other things are just not as important as they once were. There’s a certain amount of freedom that comes from menopause – the babies have been birthed and, if not on their own, close to it. It seems like this is a breather between having children and anticipating grandchildren; in the meantime, there is finally ME time. It may take a while to adjust to the concept, but it’s a good adjustment, and avenues you may never have thought of before are opening before your very eyes.

All that’s very nice, of course, but you don’t really have a choice. Menopause is coming, one way or another, and there’s nothing you can do but roll with it. I’ve just traded menstruation, PMS and birth control for hot flashes, night sweats and Strange Hair Growth.

So far, it’s been a fair trade.