Before the menopause: Welcome to the intermediate realm

Since the beginning of last year my body is playing in a different league. It began with simple cycle disorders, the regularity of the 30 years before was over. Meanwhile, I have a Curettage, a curettage of the uterus, behind me. Yesterday I came home, after a night in the hospital. Now I'm sitting in a café on the Danube Island, holding my nose in the sun and recovering. The air is warm, boats chug past, and life looks friendly again.

"I got my days after 50 days"

In July, I went to Upper Austria to visit my parents. Calm, loneliness, only me and the highway. Time to relax and think. And to calculate. My last menstruation was more than 50 days ago. For weeks I dragged a premenstrual tummy around with me and the usual extra dose of water in my legs. Not a bad thing. Still uncomfortable. In the evening I stood barefoot with my mother in the front yard. In my stomach it moved suspiciously. It starts, I thought, looking forward to a piece of normalcy.

A week later and back in Vienna, I called Andrea, my very best friend. "Comfort me," I said as she answered. "I got my days after 50 days." - "Congratulations," said Andrea, "and?" - "They will not stop," I groaned. On the contrary. They became stronger and stronger. I was feeling sick, I was tired. I was sad. I do not know why.



Adieu? cyclic wave motion

Before I woke up in the morning, this blood factory called the uterus woke up to start production. I wore everything there is to buy ladies' toiletries on or in the womb. That scared me. For 30 years I had been one with my cycle. Reliable arrival between the 24th and the 27th day. A day's warm-up to tune in, then a one-to-two-day cinema with all the trimmings, then, almost to the finale, two more days of final work. Goodbye. A regular up and down, a cyclical wave motion. And now?

"It's not just the blood I lose," I said. "Youth, power, energy, form, I lose my confidence." - "No," said Andrea. "No," I said. Of course not. One part is already gone. The youth for example. Since you have to fool with 45 nothing more. Although of course everything is relative.



The visit to the gynecologist

The next day, my gynecologist gave me a special Saturday special. He gave a name to what was going on in my body: hypermenorrhea. His wife and assistant patted my knee while her husband dived between my splayed legs. I looked at the mosaic glued to the ceiling, a stylized female figure with an indicated middle.

"Hm," said the doctor, "I do not like it." We arrived at the ultrasound. It was about a cycle of 50 days and a menstrual period, which lasted a full week and was fierce. Actually, the uterus should have been done with cleaning up long ago. But she was not. "Hm," repeated the doctor and then: "Aha! A cyst." Probably the cyst and the long cycle and increased estrogen levels were related to the heavy bleeding. To stop her, I got prescribed pills. And because I had not enough, the doctor took blood from me. Out, I thought, just out.



"This condition between young and old"

It was a hot day, the sun was beating, I went to the dark side. The heat was too much for me. That too was new. With the recipe in hand, I was looking for the nearest pharmacy with weekend service. At that moment I would have swallowed everything to stop the bleeding. The pharmacist put a white box in my hand. With the tablets came the confidence. That it would only be so now. That everything would change again. That you can be like this in your mid-40s. Applied, counted. That I would just have to rest, then the rest would already find.

I sat down in a cafe on the Vienna Ring. There I stared into the air, thinking. I tried to understand this intermediate realm that opened up. This condition between young and old, no longer fully functional, related to the possibility of becoming pregnant. Not yet barren. That's not the actual "change," the doctor had said. But the beginning of premenopause. The preclimacterium. Takes longer, sometimes less years. Can calm down again, "regulate," he said. A phase with normal cycles and bleeding that would not empty the iron store within two days would be possible. Perhaps. Perhaps. A statement that was not really built on rock.

What is now, I wondered, what is it? A chance? Do you have to see opportunities everywhere? Do you have to draw a conclusion, an intermediate level? I sat there for a while and thought about it. I did not find any answers.

"Circling the uterus, what that sounds like, after butcher, after pain"

Nine weeks passed. The tablets that the doctor had prescribed for me, I had not tolerated very well. But they took the stun out of the bleeding. The uterine lining had been far too thick, raising estrogen levels enormously. It also had an advantage, I did not have to epilate my legs that often. After a week was checked: The mucosa was thinner, the estrogen value lower, the way the right, so my doctor. So do not take so many tablets, after a few more days, everything should be fine again.

After a few more days, the bleeding became stronger again, accompanied by mild cramps. Was that the normal menstrual period? I phoned the doctor, we decided to wait. In September, my nerves ended. I was bleeding heavily, losing strength and confidence at the same time, howling over the phone, lying in bed forever and yet constantly tired. Another appointment in practice. We talked about the Curettage, which I had previously denied violently on all dates. Circling the uterus, how that sounds. After butcher, after pain. This time I did not refuse, just asked, "When?"

Welcome to the intermediate realm

The procedure was to take place two weeks later. It felt like a mixture of relief, failure and being at a loss. Delivered to a development that can not be controlled. If I had been able to rely on something before, then on my physical fitness. After a period of serious illness at a young age, my mind had calmed down in this fitness, in life itself, and in the growth of my son. When I am at peace with myself, I can be drifted better, wherever.

And now all my attention had been focused on me for weeks, every move to the bathroom had become a status analysis: more or less blood, fluid, lumpy? Yes, I ran out, in the literal sense. That had to be stopped. The curettage was no big deal. The most strenuous was the anesthetic, but I also recovered quickly.

After that I felt better: no more bleeding, increasing power. An answer to what is happening right now in me and with me, I still have not found. I only know one thing: I have arrived in an intermediate realm. And I'll take a look at that. As calm and curious as possible. Maybe that's why I'm allowed to look at myself for a while. Maybe that's the message, if there is one.

Day 1 - Appropriate Use of Drug Therapies for Osteoporotic Fracture Prevention (March 2024).



Menopause, body sensation, bleeding, cycle, Upper Austria, Vienna, menopause, onset, signs, menopause