My Menopause Blog: Warranty Expired

I am a physical wreck.

Following Friday's collision with 'death desk', and the subsequent blackening of my left thigh, I cautiously made my way through Saturday. No crazy sex for this kitty cat. Rather, I found solace in a bottle of Italian Red and a pork tenderloin.

For reasons that defy logic, this morning, clad in a sweater and knee high slippers, I decided to muck through my largest closet. My mission. To find my old brown down coat and store my 'not warm enough for winter' leather jackets.

When my lower back seized up, it was immediately clear that I had a situation on my hands. Deep in the back of this no-woman's land, no pants in sight, I was in pain deeper than 'death desk' had dished out.

I lowered myself to the floor. This after discovering there was no way up. So, butt to the ground, I backed my way out.

Slowly.

Every movement offered the undesired feeling of having a butcher knife jabbed into my sacrum.

Too vivid?

Too bad.

Once out of the closet, I used my desk to straighten.

Sound gay?

It wasn't.

I did a quick inventory. Seemed that as long as I stayed ramrod straight, my back felt normal.

Too bad I had to pee.

That's yet another feature of menopause....frequent peeing.

But I digress. Or do I? Regardless. My body seems to be in a state of decline.

I told Gareth to put me in my composter.

Sue Richards

Tag: menopause