Her & 'The Change' In Me

One show-One woman- Four voices of the Menopause

Sometimes you can’t think too much about what has to be done, you just have to do it. 

That’s exactly how I am about to approach this blog. Who knew not keeping up with posts would cause so much guilt and stress? I can hear my mums voice now in her soft Irish accent, “Jesus, if you’re worried about that, then you can’t have enough to worry about.” On the contrary mum I’ve got loads going on.

Where do I start? Well to be honest with you, I really don’t think I will be able to get it all in this stab at communication over the world wide web. So, I am going to break it down into bite size chunks, in order not to bore the life out of you. In a quick version –since my last blog on the 1stApril I’ve moved house, taken on a pub, performed a show on my birthday, started HRT (I know, didn’t see that one coming) About to make a very small appearance in the forthcoming drama A Confession on ITV. I don’t say any-thing, but my eyebrows were nackered. Well it’s all that expression lark, more on that later. I have also got to start rehearsing for a show in October at Leicester University, and I have still not drunk a drop of vino or any other alcoholic substance since New Year’s Eve. So, lots to talk about…

I did question whether I would write a blog again, as work was starting to stop my thoughts from going anywhere outside this pub. I started to think I could let things settle down for a bit and get on with immediate job in hand. Somewhere in my sub conscious I know the show and all its components is safely bound cocoonlike, waiting for me to pick up a script, rehearse and release a new lease of life to Her and The Change in Me. A part of me thou got a bit nervous, as I started to feel comfortable in accepting the pub as my only focus of thought. What happened to the multitasking doer that I would often rely on myself to be? Was I still able to consider more than one job in hand at a time or was I even bothered any more about the menopause? I couldn’t understand why may enthusiasm had dampened, especially when I got such a feeling of camaraderie and purpose from writing and performing the show. Then I realised, I didn’t really care; it was as if I had returned to those days pre menopause when friends told me about their symptoms, and I would put invisible hands over my ears and sing loudly in my head, lalalala I can’t hear you. What had changed? 

I had started HRT and all those symptoms had disappeared.

Insights of a menopausal woman.

Well that’s all lovely, but I had just spent over a year of my life writing and performing, getting people to take me seriously in a funny kind of way about how the menopause changed my life. The brain fog, sleepless nights, anxiety, weight gain…Hmnn one is suddenly realising why she didn’t want to remember anymore. The truth of the matter is women feel they are moaning about something that no one wants to understand if they are not currently in it. Men don’t get it and women only tend to support each other when they are menopausal. And here I was doing it, guilty again of the very thing I couldn’t understand what women do when the menopause is discussed. Blanking it with those invisible hands and silent singing lalalala. Now I had rejoined the pack. Two things happened prompting me back into a menopause reality. I had to go to the hospital for a hand injury and was not sure if I was going to be turned away. This was due to me not replying to any automated calls from the hospital due to a bad signal in the pub, if I’m really honest I didn’t have the time to look into it. Until a got a text to tell me I had an appointment, although I had a sack of potatoes to peel for the triple cooked chips. I know why? I would take a chance and see if I could get an x-ray. 

As I walked towards the parking meter a younger lady than myself passed me her parking ticket with over two hours still left on it, always gives me a buzz when this happens. One because the organising bodies charge far too much and two you would get a coronary trying to get a poxy space. Anyway, I had my x-ray really quickly and was in a good mood knowing that I didn’t have to spend any more time there.  The thought came to me, I should pass on the parking ticket. Normally cars fly around that car park and I should of got rid of that ticket within seconds, but I had to wait seven minutes. (This felt like a life time, the potatoes weren’t going to peel themselves) Low and behold as I was about to loose faith, a little fiat pulled in.  I waved my hand looking rather like a lollipop lady. I indicated to the parking space soon to be available and passed on my gift that had now taken on the power of a Willy Wonker ticket (In my head) The young man, who looked so happy initially was now looking concerned that I was being that little bit too nice and I am sure I saw him lock his car. 

Now, I’m not trying to get praise here for passing on a parking ticket, it goes on in car parks all over the country everyday. Well lets hope so. I just couldn’t get that way of thinking out of my head, to join together and pass things on. Then it started those familiar stirrings of a need to get out there again and talk about the menopause, but even more than that. Talk about how we should keep multi tasking keep thinking about doing what gives us a buzz. To find ways of pursuing what makes us happy whilst still trying to keep our heads above water. Now that’s multitasking at another level, I’m still not sure if I can do it. But I’m going to give it a bloody good go…

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