Work

Work and being productive is a basic human need and intrinsic to human dignity. It makes us feel valuable, exercises both mind and body, and if we are really lucky, provides security in the form of income. Don't confuse work with job as the former is productivity of any kind and a job is "work for hire" or a responsibility that provides money. Not really the same, but for many it is.

Jobs are great. They pay the bills, keep food on the table, and a roof over your head. Careers are better as the stability guarantees the food and the roof for a longer time. We, as humans, can put up with a lot of drudgery and soul-sucking hell for that stability, dragging ourselves out of bed each morning, suffering any number of indignities as we trudge through each day desperately counting down each hour until the weekend. People who cheer THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY have jobs. This can be work at its worst.

I've worked at jobs most of my life. I often had two jobs at the same time: one for money and one for fun. At one point I had four part-time jobs at the same time. I liked the variety and they were all fun, but part-time usually means no benefits or no insurance. Subsequently I was drawn back to the rat race. I sacrificed authenticity and satisfaction for misery. A high price to pay for income and benefits. All of my jobs were customer service or people-oriented.

When I became chemically sensitive I lost all ability to work with people. I found myself directionless. What do I do now? All past experience and familiar options were forbidden. At one point I was in a store talking to friends telling them how difficult the adjustment was going from four jobs to nothing. One of them said, "Maybe that was the point. The universe is telling you to take a rest." Hmmm...I did. I had no choice.

I was unemployed for about two years and considered disabled so I didn't qualify for unemployment benefits. Time constantly felt like it was running out. Homelessness loomed over my head like a big, black cloud as I watched my bank account dwindle to nothing. During that time I worked. I kept busy. To not be productive was unimaginable as I would have gone crazy with stress and worry. Work kept my mind off my problems and made me feel like I was doing something to move forward. When I wasn't cleaning, reorganizing, or redecorating my home, I wrote letters to various organizations about MCS and researched information on anything of interest. I even volunteered for friends. For one, I wrapped all her Christmas presents and decorated her house with holiday cheer. Another I did her gardening, and another I cut little squares of fabric for her quilting projects. I also helped several people move. I worked full-time all the while brainstorming ways I could turn my unemployment activities to income.

During this unemployment phase, I met with job counselors. Most of them were useless. One wanted me to be a professional babysitter. HA! The ultimate nightmare! Their ignorance of my situation was incredibly frustrating. Job search is challenging all by itself, but job search with lots of restrictions is worse. Not knowing what to do for work is frightening.

I've always heard the perfect job involves doing something you love. I used to take this literally yet wondered how I could turn my hobbies into income. It's not as easy as it sounds. How many people who love to sing or act become famous? How many people who paint make money? How many people can create a mega-business with home projects like Martha Stewart? Dreams don't always translate to money. Now that I'm older and wiser I'm finally figuring out it's not necessarily things you love, but to question how you work best. What kind of work do you love to do that excites your very soul and makes you want to jump out of bed in the morning. This soul-searching isn't easy but it could be the difference between a job you hate and work you love. Making something happen takes a whole lot of work, time, and commitment. When the going gets tough or the money in the bank starts to disappear, many want to give up. Giving up on a new career is easy if you aren't chemically sensitive or disabled as falling back on previous experience is an option.

I spent most of my youth ignoring my dreams and focusing on what would make me money. I choose my college major based on prospective income and security while ignoring my true needs. I interviewed for jobs that were prestigious rather than doing what I would have enjoyed. I ignored who I was and instead focused on who I thought I should be. I wonder how my life would have turned out if I chased dreams instead of money? A lot of those dreams involved chemicals. Would the satisfaction of doing something I loved negated future chemical sensitivity, or would I have been doomed just as easily?

Who knows? All I can do is live my life the best of my ability and keep working today toward a better tomorrow.

Revelation: Older Women/Younger Men

Today I am pondering the young, gorgeous, grocery god I gazed upon at the co-op a few days ago. In my recent search for menopausal truth, I discovered many new learnings. The most revelatory was why older women are attracted to younger men.

I've always liked younger men. When I was twelve I had a crush on a nine-year old. Three-year age differences aren't a big of deal unless you are in sixth grade and he is in third grade then it's unthinkable. Although I was probably more emotionally and physically mature, sex wasn't even in our vocabulary. He was taller, stronger,  smarter, blonder and tanner. He also lived across the street so it was more of a case of proximity. We spent a lot of time together outside of school, running through fields, trail-blazing in the woods, building forts, and tormenting our younger siblings. It felt incredibly natural at the time, although at school this age difference was taboo.  I would have never bragged about it to my twelve-year-old girlfriends, yet he was far more fun than they were.

Fast forward to the future and my mid-life college years. He was twenty-one. I was thirty. Again, proximity is to blame. We had classes together, both majoring in education, discovered a mutual love of hiking right before a summer break and spent the whole summer backpacking together. I certainly didn't plan a relationship with a kid just outside his teen years. My dad called him "the twelve-year-old" just to torment me. I found the teasing not only irritating, but irrational since my dad was married to a woman half his age. He didn't see the contradiction nor recognize the sexism.

A few years later I dated another adorable twenty-something. I heard through the family gossip one of my snide relatives wondered aloud, "So, which junior high did she find him at?" Amidst the constant disrespectful teasing and humiliation I questioned my attraction and even my sanity. Some of my relatives accused me of feeling old and thinking a younger man would make me feel young. Hmmm...no. This was pre-MCS so I was feeling pretty young at the time. Younger men can be quite gorgeous and youth IS attractive, no doubt. But is that it? Am I that superficial? Or am I immature? I pondered long and hard trying to justify if all the harassment was worth it.

First, I was selective. The younger men I dated were intelligent and fairly mature as well as fun, energetic, and free-spirited. We usually shared common interests like hiking, backpacking, camping, kayaking, scuba diving, and music, and their sense of adventure made them very opened-minded to new experiences. They rarely complained of bad backs or painful joints, and they didn't have prior entanglements like ex-wives or older children that always took priority.

More importantly, I liked that younger men were less controlling. In fact, they would do whatever I wanted. I called the shots. I had the power. Older men, on the other hand, were set in their ways and incredibly manipulative. They were in charge and we did what they wanted. My opinion was of no concern. Constant fighting for a voice wasn't fun. Older men always wanted to get married, too. A more permanent state of control was expected from their generation.

Younger men didn't stink. Their natural body odor usually didn't smell badly and if they even considered wearing cologne or smelly body spray, I'd put my foot down and they'd immediately comply. Younger men also remembered not to wear anything stinky. Memory isn't a problem for a younger man and it was as if I was important enough for them to listen to me and pay attention. Telling older men they can't stink and they perceive it as a threat. There is something to be said for the saying, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" and you can't change years of nasty habits. They would show up for the next date bathed in stink, feel miffed when I frowned, demand everything is fine, and let me know I should get over myself. I was often treated as a disappointment and my disobedience in need of retraining. I wasn't meek and subservient enough.

I found it strange that my habit of younger men was so repulsive in our culture, but an older man with a younger woman is not only sanctioned, but envied. Society just smiles and claims the man is going through a mid-life crisis. Other men nod their approval and see him as a role model. Who wants to be with an older woman when they can have a young, attractive, compliant girl?

In my twenties, I did go through a stage where I was the younger woman. At the time older men seemed more thoughtful and romantic, as well as employed and stable. They liked going to fancy restaurants and getting dressed up for cultural outings. There was a certain security in our age difference and being young and silly, I liked having someone tell me what to do and how to think. At the time too many boys my age didn't have jobs, drove barely functioning cars, and didn't want to do anything but drink and avoid taking baths so a more mature partner was preferred. Then I grew up....

Granted, times are changing. Now we have "cougars" and "tadpoles" and the idea of strong women dating gorgeous young men isn't as repulsive. Older women have income and with age this gives them power. This has its own disadvantages. However, find online articles about this age difference and the comment section still disapproves. Especially if the woman LOOKS old or isn't as attractive as the younger man then everyone is judgmental. She's obviously taking advantage of him. Youth and beauty still rule and hags are evil. In many indigenous cultures the pairing of a younger man with an older woman is standard practice and not taboo. The older woman is considered the respected teacher. The last twenty-five year old that asked me out I told him he was too young for me. He replied a bit confused, "I'm surprised age would matter to you." He was right. We did have a lot in common and he made me laugh. I was embarrassed society's opinion had taken its toll. Don't tempt me, young cute thing!

So as I'm reading various books on menopause and sexuality I'm finding information on hormones. Our hormone production declines in old age. I think most of us know that. Young women are saturated with estrogen which makes them soft, sweet, nurturing, cuddly, and fertile. Younger men are flooded with testosterone which makes them energetic, aggressive, not so fond of cuddling and always ready to reproduce. The sexual peak for young men is twenty-two. Other than the reproduction potential, the sexes are in opposition.

Older women have less estrogen and more testosterone. This imbalance makes them more energetic, more aggressive, and more authoritarian. Their sexual peak is around thirty-five years old. They know what they want. Old men, on the other hand, lose testosterone and this imbalance makes them more emotional and cuddly. Sexual role reversal with aging is our natural inclination. The age difference we seek is merely our natural tendency to match our hormonal changes and new-found personalities to new partners. Divorce rates are highest in later years because of this. Older women are more compatible with younger men, and older men are more compatible with younger women. It has nothing to do with older people seeking younger partners to feel younger. Older men and younger women like to cuddle. Younger men and older women like to, well...be energetic.

Fascinating. I'm enjoying the idea of aging more and more. It makes me feel brave. Like a cougar.

Call me Yatna...

Moroccan Lamb Stew (Recipe)

 

 

Chicken, hamburger, fish...hamburger, chicken, fish...fish, chicken, hamburger. I can only take so much repetition before I feel really unsatisfied. So as I'm staring at the meat refrigerator at my local co-op, trying to dredge up some excitement anticipating the same-old meals I've been eating for the last year, I decide instead to flirt with the cute grocery guy who was stocking the hot dogs.

"I'm really bored eating the same old thing day after day. Do you have any turkey?"

"Nope, turkeys are butchered only once a year just before the holidays."

"I'm at a loss for what to eat."

"What about lamb?"

As I recall, lamb has a very distinctive, rich flavor. An acquired taste. Of course, I've never really known how to prepare it. I spied the ground lamb and the lamb stew meat on the shelf as I listen to this tall, dark-eyed, wavy-haired, edible Greek god talk about mouth-watering stews made with  seductive spices. He was describing food of the gods. I was drooling, or rather swooning, as I imagined him eating it.

I get into a checkout line with my bag of lamb stew meat and lucky for me one of the deli cooks is running the register. She gave me some ideas for Moroccan Lamb Stew. At home, I checked for a recipe online. Most had tomatoes which are not on my Paleo/Hashimoto's diet, but I found a recipe online without tomatoes and then I experimented. It amazes me with all the dietary restrictions I have, I can still manage to find gourmet recipes that comply.


Ingredients:



3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
2 pounds lamb stew meat
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 1/2 cups chopped onions
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 1/2 tablespoons minced peeled fresh ginger
1 1/3 cups water

3 large carrots, chopped
4 cups butternut squash, peeled and chopped into 1 inch pieces

1 large blood orange or any orange
1/2 cup fresh parsley, chopped
1 tablespoon honey or two soaked dates (optional)



Preparation:

Mix salt, pepper, cinnamon and allspice in a medium bowl. Add lamb and toss to coat with spice mixture. Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium-high heat. Working in batches, add lamb to pot and saute until brown on all sides, about 4 minutes per batch. Return all lamb to pot. Add onion, garlic and ginger to pot and saute 5 minutes. Add water and bring to boil. Reduce heat, cover and simmer until lamb is almost tender, stirring occasionally, about 1 hour and 30 minutes.

In the meantime, chop carrots and squash. Grate peel from blood oranges and reserve. Cut all remaining peel and white pith from oranges and discard. Coarsely chop orange meat. Add carrots, squash, oranges and grated peel to lamb mix. Cover and simmer until lamb is very tender, about 20 minutes longer. Stir in parsley and honey/dates. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

I used regular oranges because I had already shopped by the time I got home to see the recipe and didn't have blood oranges. I left out the honey.

The dish isn't "hot" spicy just tantalizingly spicy. Moroccan spicy. Such a treat. The carrots and the squash soak up the spices and balance the richness of the meat (lamb is very greasy). Heavenly.

Yum.

Call Me Yatna

Welcome to my very own Happy-To-Be-A-Woman Celebration Ritual! 

 

 

 

 

It's also called The Croning Rite and can be found in The Women's Wheel of Life by Elizabeth Davis and Carol Leonard.

 

"This rite of passage is observed when a woman has completed menopause, with no menstruation for a full year. The post menopausal stage heralds the start of a new life phase, when she is to be venerated for her life experience."

 

In other words, this is my very own "Self-Veneration Ceremony" that is to encompass all previous celebrations I missed. I didn't get a Menstrual Celebration Rite which would have kicked off my gender pride initiation and I've never been pregnant so I didn't get a "So-Glad-You-Are-Reproducing Ritual" also known as a baby shower. I say self-veneration because it's really supposed to be done amongst a gathering of women friends and family of all ages so together we can share and learn from each other while at the same time honoring the initiate and her passage into old age. Unfortunately, I have neither family or friends nearby, fragrance-free or available, but that won't stop me!

 

 

The purpose of this ritual is two-fold. First, it is to explore feelings of loss, uncertainty, confusion and even anger that often accompany aging:

 

What the hell is wrong with my body?

 

Will I never be "normal" again?

 

Damn, why did I take my youth for granted?

 

Will I never be allowed to wear t-shirts with cartoons again?

 

Is life over?

 

 

The second purpose is to explore the potential of transition:

 

I can't wait to be wise and powerful.

 

Will I really become psychic?

 

If life expectancy for women is anywhere between 80 and 100, I still have half my life to live!

 

What do I plan to do with all that time?

 

 

The actual ceremony, whether in a group or in solitude, can include many decorative elements such as lighting candles (not going to happen), burning incense (nope), or sprinkling of essential oils (no way). I like the part where each woman takes a turn and shares her life learnings after introducing herself with a "Mother Line."

"I am Catherine, daughter of Charlene, granddaughter of Clara, great-granddaughter of Marie."

 

Then she tells us what she has learned in life, what wisdom she still seeks, or what she must do to complete her life's mission. I think going to a celebration like this when I was young would have been an incredibly validating experience. If every girl did, just think how few of us would approach menopause with such trepidation.

 

I've been pondering my deepest life lessons of wisdom in the last few days. What were my most important learnings? What would I share with others? What would I pass to my daughter [if I had one]?

 

1.) Don't ever have sex with any man who would not make a good father. Just think if we taught girls to be more selective. We might even eliminate unwanted children, child abuse, teenage mothers.

 

2.) Marry only for love.

 

3.) Be proud of who you are and celebrate all those unique qualities that make you different.

 

4.) Be verbally, emotionally, and physically strong enough to defend yourself against anyone who disrespects you.

 

5.) Do what you love and the money will follow.

 

6.) Don't procrastinate. Do it now in case you don't have tomorrow.

 

7.) Be healthy in thought and practice.

 

8.) Think for yourself.

 

9.) Learn as much as possible until the day you die.

 

I reserve the right to modify this list at a later date.

 

What wisdom do I still seek or how do I complete my life's mission?  Or how do I plan to live the second half of my life? I have to admit, this is like a really serious New Year's Resolution. The responsibility is overwhelming. It's a LIFE resolution and much more difficult to ponder. How can I live the second half of my life by improving on the first half? Where do I start? How do I start? This is stressful.

 

 Be brave.

 

 

That says it all. I've had life-long issues with being excessively responsible, paralyzingly cautious and afraid to take chances. It has kept me out of trouble for sure, but I think it would be more fun to get into more trouble.

 

 

After all this brainstorming, sharing, and venerating, the next part of the ceremony is the name change. This is a common Native American tradition in a culture that honors the wisdom of the elderly by giving postmenopausal members new names signifying their new, more authoritative position in the tribe. Very cool. I searched online for names at http://babynames.merschat.com/ which is a website that gives not only the meaning of a name, but it's desire and potential. My real name's desire is solitude...really?? Solitude is very much the opposite of what I want. So I searched for a new name that would fit my mission and real desire. I found Yatna which means perseverance with friendship as the desire, and specialist as the potential. Searching for wisdom is a component of the specialist potential.

 

Call me Yatna...

 

 

Next, "She-Who-Is-Venerated" goes into seclusion and returns later reborn into a new life phase. Hmmm...I don't know if I need anymore seclusion. Every time I do something people-oriented I do feel reborn as if my old life is back so I'll do something dangerous and go shopping or to a movie and call it good.

 

 

To conclude my Happy-To-Be-A-Woman Ceremonial Rite,  my imaginary friends and I would eat massive amounts of chocolate (not going to happen), get drunk on alcoholic beverages (nope), and dance naked in the moon light (maybe).

 

 

 

I've Been Cheated...

Since writing my last post on menopause I've been questioning my attitude on womanhood.


WHY have I been embarrassed to be a woman all my life?

WHY has the monthly curse been a source of shame?

WHY am I not greeting menopause with unbridled enthusiasm and naked dancing eager to celebrate how wise I will be in my elder years?


So I started reading. It seems women have been oppressed for centuries most often due to male-dominant religions and the idea that the "weaker sex" needed to be managed and their knowledge and power harnessed. If a woman refused to keep her mouth shut or refused to be an obedient, passive wife and subservient subordinate, a good burning at the stake was the remedy. Nothing like the fear of God to justify violence against someone needing to be controlled. The sexuality of women has been condemned and repressed at every opportune moment in history, but older women have really paid the price.

Hags, witches, and crones are the undesirables of past mythologies who still infiltrated our basic beliefs with their stereotypical cackling, cursing, poisonous gifts, and lack of sanctifying beauty. They were not only thought of as fearful, but disgusting. Although this is our historical legacy, not much has changed. Fast forward to modern civilization. It's not good to LOOK old let alone BE old. I was raised with shame and repressed sexuality, hiding my femaleness and dishonoring my womanhood in a culture still contaminated by past male-dominated views.

 

I knew this. I've been reading about feminism and women's spirituality traditions for years. Girls rule; boys drool. Girl Power. Long live Gloria Steinem. I get it and I know I should be proud of who I am. So why have I personally perpetuated sexism with my archaic attitudes toward my own body? Why has it taken me so long to recognize this self-inflicted injustice? And what I want to know...why in the hell did I not get a Menstrual Ceremonial Rite?

Ceremonial rites celebrating a young girl's transformation into womanhood are a tradition of indigenous cultures. It's a multi-generational gathering of women honoring the beginning menstrual cycles of younger initiates. It's a girls-only party to share and pass on learned wisdom which encourages strength and gender pride. Why was I denied my right to be proud of my sexuality?

Oh, I remember now. My mother died before I reached puberty and to say my step-mother was incompetent at parenting is an understatement. Lack of a female role model is a convenient excuse, but not good enough. Why don't I remember any of my friends getting Menstrual Ceremonial Rites? I'm sure their mothers had the "birds and the bees" talks with them, but I certainly don't remember any coming of age parties and definitely nothing remotely resembling a ceremony or grandmother-mother-daughter bonding ritual with women of all ages holding hands, lighting candles, and honoring the transformation of a young girl. I was discreetly handed a book and warned, "You might find this interesting." Actually, it was incredibly boring. I had already found my grandfather's stash of pornography literature so I had a basic idea of how things worked and believe me, his books were much more interesting than some scientific manual on conception. I so regret not having a positive woman role model in my life to make me feel strong and proud to be female. Perhaps this is why I am greeting old age with such disdain?

Although menstruation is over, my life isn't. I won't be cheated out of a Proud-To-Be-A-Woman Ceremonial Ritual.

Hey, I see it clearly now. My eyes have been opened. Maybe this is that wisdom everyone claims with old age?


How did your mother teach you about sexuality? Did you get "the talk", a book to read, or a ceremony? Did she make you feel proud to be a woman? Or was it quiet, secretive and shameful?

The Pause: Sequel to The Curse

Menopause. Another one of God's cruel jokes. This word should strike terror in the hearts of young women, but youth tends to shield us from the horrors of life as we skip along believing we are immortal and will never suffer the torment of hot flashes, homicidal rages, suicidal depression, panic attacks, and dried-up vaginas. And from what I've read, those are just of the few highlights.

Try to anticipate what one might experience in the later years and you are met with vague theories and little support from the medical community.  Surprising since menopause has been around since the beginning of human existence. Medicine has been dominated by men for most of history so this really shouldn't be a surprise at all. What I have heard is women normally go through menopause in their 50s and it normally lasts for about two years. OK, that's nice. And what about those of us who would be considered abnormal? One doctor told me he had a patient who didn't go through menopause until she was in her 80s and another told me the hell can last up to ten years. Oh, great.

I have also been told the best indication of your impending experience is your mother. Whatever her experience was, yours will be similar. This is much like the so-called hereditary factors in diseases. Is it really hereditary or is it a common diet and environment? Unfortunately, my mother died when she was 34 years old so if my longevity has anything to do with heredity, I am doomed! I think it should be part of the licensing requirements for parents that mothers must impart this knowledge onto their daughters before they die, if at all possible. If the mother doesn't survive to menopause, then that responsibility should fall on the maternal grandmother. My grandmother didn't impart any knowledge on me, but when she was alive I was young and immortal. I probably wouldn't have listened. I now wish she would have FORCED me to listen!

What are the physiological reasons for these often debilitating symptoms? Besides hormonal imbalances caused by your body disintegrating, no one seems to know. No one knows what causes hot flashes, although between 75 and 85 percent of women have them. Ten percent are incapacitated by them and that leaves about 25 percent of all menopausal women who don't experience them at all. Yet no one knows what causes hot flashes? Hormone replacement therapy is a huge, money-making business for the medical community so why would anyone care about something that might affect their bottom line?

Anytime someone tells me no one knows, my brain screams CHEMICALS! No one knows? Really? No one has figured this out in, oh, 2,000 years?

I've heard of women who go through menopause much earlier than normal due to chemical exposures. One was chemically sensitive due to a pesticide exposure. The other worked for a photocopying company and became incredibly ill due to the photocopying chemicals. Both went through menopause when they were in their thirties. I wonder about my thyroid and adrenal fatigue issues? Are these hormones imbalanced because of my chemical exposure history? That's my guess, especially since I'm already convinced autoimmune diseases are caused by chemicals and my thyroid issues are autoimmune-related.

So as I crept closer and closer to The Pause, I wondered: Would my experience be much worse because I am chemically sensitive to even small amounts of chemicals in everyday, household products, or would my symptoms be less since I avoid chemicals as much as possible. Will I be part of the lucky twenty-five percent of women who never have hot flashes or will my hot flashes be so crippling I'll need to take hormone replacement drugs? My diet is much cleaner than the average, normal American woman, too, devoid of soda pop, caffeine, and processed foods. When I first gave up caffeine all my PMS symptoms went away so maybe I won't have menopause symptoms? I also don't smoke, drink alcohol, do recreational drugs, or put chemicals on my body. I've pondered this for years, eagerly anticipating the conclusion of this life's experiment to find out if all my lifestyle restrictions will finally pay off.

Today I have not had a period for exactly one year, so by definition I am officially in the throes of menopause. My fall from grace, or rather, youth, started about a year and a half ago. First, on and off periods. One every two weeks to two months lasting anywhere from two days to two weeks. Then about six months later for three weeks I had hot flashes. Maybe one or two during the day and every time I would awake during the night. Not to bad either. Hot, but tolerable. OK! I thought,  I can do this! During the winter months I kind of liked them keeping me toasty. I prefer the hot flashes to the cold flashes. Cold flashes are really nasty, but I have only had a few.

The worst thing about the hot flashes is they made me feel damaged. Less than optimum. Hey, my body is decaying! I don't feel obligated to be happy about it just because this is a normal, natural process and a part of aging. It's still embarrassing. (I was also embarrassed about The Curse, too. Bleeding uncontrollably for a week was not my idea of a good time.) I've watched as friends and perfect strangers, grocery checkers and store clerks stop mid-sentence to erratically fan themselves and scream, "OH! GOD! OH! GOD! ANOTHER HOT FLASH". They start stripping off their clothes right there in public. If they didn't make such a huge production out of it, I don't think I nor anyone else in the vicinity would have noticed.  I don't care if I feel like I'm about to explode, I am determined no one is going to know if I have a hot flash. I'm going to ignore it and hope no one notices if I'm burning red hot and dripping sweat.

After three weeks the hot flashes went away only to return, again, four months later. Still relatively mild and most often at night. I say they are mild because I've read about women who wake up so drenched in sweat they must change their nightclothes and sheets in the middle of the night. Or they pass out. I have felt so hot it gets my attention, but at night I don't even have to strip naked or use a fan.

These new hot flashes, however, were preceded by adrenaline rushes. Have you ever had an adrenaline rush when startled? These are more intense, like a prickly, almost painful nerve sensation that starts in the middle of my body (where the adrenal glands are located) and spreads outward all the way to my fingers and toes.  If I'm not fully awake when it starts, I am definitely wide awake by the time it reaches my extremities. Thankfully, it only takes a minute to run its course. I have found little documentation and fewer theories on what causes this, but my assumption is my cortisol is low at night and my body needs to jump start itself in order the have a hot flash. The adrenaline rushes are worse than the hot flashes. They are, however, only at night and only when I wake up in the night. If I am stressed out and waking up often, I'd have them as often. On occasion I'd have a hot flash in the late afternoon, but rarely and without an adrenaline rush. According to tests, my cortisol levels are fine in the afternoon.

Eating any kind of high glycemic food tends to bring on rush-and-flash episodes more often and more intensely. I don't eat sugar, but even a handful of dates will do the trick. Does this coincide with blood sugar levels blamed for middle of the night wakings? Maybe. It makes me wonder if a high carbohydrate diet is responsible for those really intense menopause symptoms I read about. If I gave up dried fruits and rice completely, would ALL my symptoms go away?

I'm thankful I haven't experienced mood swings, panic attacks, skin sensitivities, brain fog, urinary incontinence, or palpitations. I haven't passed out either. Irritability and bitchiness...we'll that's a normal part of being chemically sensitive. It hasn't changed or intensified so I think I'm OK. Knock on wood. I think I'm getting off really easy. Is it the sweetener-free, dairy-free, gluten-free, almost-grain-free, junk food-free, caffeine-free, alcohol-free, and drug-free diet with a chemical-free life? Maybe.

Online websites and articles on menopause-symptom-relief diets suggest avoiding or reducing your intake of caffeine, alcohol, sugar, high-fat foods, high-sodium, hot foods and carbohydrates. Few advise to eliminate them all together. I think they must be afraid to state absolutes for fear the brains of junk food addicts will shut down just thinking about it. If three dried dates can intensify my experience, how can eating the above foods even in small amounts help anyone? I guess these articles are targeting those eating a typical American diet of processed, carbonated, caffeinated, salted, deep-fried, sweetened dishes and any reduction would help. No mention of chemically-induced menopausal symptoms and no suggestion to eliminate everyday poisons like perfumes or scented products.


Foods on the approved list are fruits, vegetables, good fats, calcium-rich foods, iron-rich foods, protein at breakfast, and lots of water. Sounds like the diet I'm on. Some websites also suggest eating tofu which is high in phytoestrogens which mimic estrogen, but I've always heard soy is the number one food everyone should avoid since it is genetically modified and potentially toxic. Anyone with breast cancer in their family history should avoid soy as well as those little genetically modified cells do strange things to breast cells. So creepy. Another site said to eat chocolate. As soon as I read that I lost all confidence and respect for the knowledge they pretended to have. The Internet is full of quacks.

Of course, my menopausal experience is not over. The normal two years isn't up and since I consider myself abnormal, this might be off and on for the next twenty years! Will it get worse before it's all over? I don't have a clue. Still, I'm feeling fortunate. I'm hoping to by-pass the mandatory ten pound weight gain, too. And maybe my boobs won't ever hang down to my knees? Wishful thinking.

I hate getting old.

It sucks.