As I gracefully tiptoed into the realm of fifty, little did I know that my body is planning a rebellion of its own. Everything seems to embrace a southwardly direction, both figuratively and theoretically. Leading this insurrection is my bladder, which has decided to gain a newfound existence and treat me to relentless "emptying" signals at any given moment. The 'wee alarm' has now become an uninvited soundtrack to my nights, ensuring uninterrupted sleep to become a distant memory.
Not content with the standard 'wee alarm,' my bladder has now introduced me to the exclusive club of "Painful Bladder Syndrome." Just when my mind is geared up for some enjoyment, a sharp shooting pain in the tummy crashes the party, as if my bladder has a personal vendetta against my chillax mindset.
Enter perimenopause, the chaotic conductor of emotions, delayed reaction times, and the unexpected arrival of pesky little beards and moustaches. These rebellious hair, determine to steal the spotlight during lip color application, and have forced me into a newfound awareness of LASER guns, threading, plucking, and waxing. The once oblivious face now welcomes these treatments with reluctant open arms.
The bizarre additions continue with creaking joints, wobbly feet, and the ominous presence of osteoporosis. I wonder about the disappearance of calcium, obtained diligently from palak, paneer, milk, and nuts. Is there a ' bone traffic police 'preventing its entry? Only the divine knows..
In a valiant attempt to combat the impending doom of painful bones, I ventured into the realm of weights and stretching at the gym. Enthusiasm soared in the initial days, only to crash with a twisted knee and a body that protested vehemently, leaving me to question the wisdom of my pursuit of health.
And then, in the middle of an 8-degree room, hot flashes decide to make an uninvited appearance. I have always desired for a smoking hot body but not in this way!
Amidst this chaos, I can't help but suspect the existence of a mischievous menopause fairy lurking in my room. She is playing the grand thief, snatching away my figure, sleep, mood, patience, eyesight, and finally, my brain. Left in her wake are a lousy moustache, a muffin top, hot flashes, itchy skin, a myriad of moods, a dodgy memory, and an insatiable need for naps, coffee, wine, and carbs.
So, dear friends, if you encounter a grumpy me, fear not, for I am out waltzing with the menopause fairies! Ciao.....
28/12/2023
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