Wheelchairs and Woe!

Woe! Woe! And Thrice Woe! The stubborn songbird hath returned with a vengeance (see previous posts.) I’ve just got back from the doctors, armed with another Canestan pessary, as the oral tablet I took on Saturday has not shifted the dratted bird from its nest. I’ve also been doing a little internet research on Candida Albicans (latin name for the bird) and it transpires that the ph of my private parts is of paramount importance in the ousting of this foe. Therefore, last night, armed with this new knowledge, I attempted to “flush the thrush” in a warm bath containing two cups of cider vinegar. It certainly seemed to soothe my parts. Thus, the husband has been duly despatched to Tesco to buy more stocks and also to procure some live yoghurt for me to eat to even up the score between the dreaded thrush and it’s somewhat friendlier companions. I’m led to believe that live yoghurt can also be liberally applied to the affected area, although I feel that this would be a rather more messy business.

The good news is that the period chart is now complete, with 12 consecutive missed periods. I am therefore officially post menopausal! I think I might throw a Post Menopausal Party. Well, why not? After all, people throw divorce parties, with Champagne, cake and all. Perhaps I could commission a cake in the shape of a giant uterus with frilly fallopian tubes, in an engaging shade of red. Or perhaps I will go into politics and stand for the Post Menopausal Party, after all, if you can have a Monster Raving Loony Party, why not a Post Menopausal Party? My constituency would, of course, have to be based in Wombwell and I would fight for the rights of all post menopausal people (men included.)

I’m still employed as a temp in the Wheelchair Unit of my local hospital and in the interests of furthering my knowledge, I just had to try out the new electric chair. No, not Old Smoky, but a motorised chair. You’d be amazed (said in a Frankie Howard voice) at how fast those wheelchairs can go and they can turn on a sixpence. I thoroughly enjoyed my few minutes of power, zipping up and down the corridors like Davros from Dr. Who. I could think of a few people I’d like to exterminate in the NHS, but I shan’t mention any names………………..or shall I? ;-)

"Spot The Belge" and Bunny Burying - RIP Angus

I am very pleased to be able to report that the song bird which was inhabiting my nether regions has finally flown the coop – Hurrah! (See previous posting.) It only took 6 weeks of bombardment with creams, pills and pessaries to frighten it off.

Not such good news on the tooth front, I’m afraid. My quarterly hygienist appointment and general dental check up culminated in an X-Ray and a choice between root canal treatment for yet another infection, or extraction. As the root canal work would not have been a permanent solution, I opted for extraction. Unfortunately, I needed so much local anaesthetic that the swallowing mechanism on the affected side was paralysed and I felt like Deuce Bigalow Male Gigolo in the clinic scene. A most claustrophobic, uncomfortable and dribbly experience which, thankfully, didn’t last too long. The extraction itself was pretty uneventful, despite the roots being quite deep and splayed outwards. The crunching and snapping noise/sensation was rather unnerving though (if you pardon the pun.) So I have now temporarily joined the ranks of the soup slurpers until such time as my new gap has properly healed. It gives "mind the gap" a whole different meaning.

I have further unhappy tidings to report as well. Sadly, we had to have our elderly and much loved rabbit, Angus, put to sleep, as he had a heart murmur and developed breathing difficulties. As he had been living indoors with us for some time, it was a harder wrench to make the decision than if he had still been living outside. R.I.P. Angus, we miss you lots. :-(

On a brighter note, have you ever played “Spot The Belge” whilst driving abroad? Highly unlikely, as it is a game that my husband and I formulated whilst holidaying in the South of France. For some reason, there appeared to be more Belgians in France than ever this year, so we slipped into a “Spot The Belge” competition whereby whenever a Belgian car was spotted, the spotter would shout out “Belge!” at the top of their voice, thus scoring a point over the other one. The trick was to pretend that you weren’t playing and then catch your opponent unawares by shrieking “Belge!” into his ear at 100 decibels whilst pointing an accusing finger at the innocent foreign driver. We once actually managed a tie, both shrieking “Belge!” at the same time whilst pointing accusatory fingers at the innocent bemused Belgians passing on the other side of the carriageway. I expect they thought “there go the nutty Brits again.” Of course, the game can be adapted in order to insult all different nationalities, i.e. “Bosche!”, “Waps!”, “Yanks!”etc, depending on which country you happen to be in. You should try it some time. It provides hours and hours of mindless and insulting fun!

Finally, the latest menopause scores:-

Hot Flushes = 0
Night sweats = 0
Periods = 0
Smear Test = 1 :-(

Thrush and Toothache

5 WEEKS!!! That’s how long I’ve been suffering with Thrush, or Candida Albicans to be precise. I had no idea that thrush could be linked to the hormonal disruption of the menopause. I’ve tried Canestan cream and pessaries and now, as a last ditch attempt, I’ve just popped the Canestan single dose pill in a desperate attempt to rid myself of this irritating (literally) affliction. Until you’ve had it, no-one knows how the itching and soreness drive you to madness, especially when you haven’t slept properly for some time because of it. If the pill fails, then it’s off to the docs for me. I have heard that applying live yogurt to the affected area can help, but I don’t fancy doing my weekly shop at Tesco and leaving a trail of yoghurt dripping in my wake. It wouldn’t do much for my street cred now would it? By the way, has anyone found a foolproof way of scratching their private parts in a supermarket without getting funny looks from the other customers? It reminds me of the old joke about itchy parts and a Japanese motorbike? But, perhaps we’d better not go down that route.

AND…on top of that, I’ve had toothache, but am trying to hang on until my appointment with the dentist in a couple of week’s time. Now I know how babies and OAP’s feel when all they can do is suck up mush. The upside to this is that I cannot now stuff my face with biscuits, so have managed to lose a little weight. Add to the above, a good dollop of family troubles and ongoing unemployment and you can see that “the devil well and truly vomits in my kettle once again” (acknowledgements to Blackadder for the quote.)

Still, onwards and upwards, as they say. I’ve been busying myself with my “new” Etsy shop, which sells upcycled and hand embellished T-Shirts, Tanks, Skirts, Dresses and Lingerie, as well as the odd item of handmade jewellery (http://crystalpearl.etsy.com) As per usual, I threw myself into it body and soul and, after opening 3 months’ ago, am still awaiting my first sale, despite Twittering, Facebooking, Burdastyling, USTrendying, My Spacing, Beboing, Flickring and Foruming until I’m blue in the face. I mean, what does it take to get one measly sale? Blood? Bribery? Chocolate?

The good news is that the dreaded hot flushes and night sweats appear to have abated. Not quite sure when it happened as they just seemed to slowly peter out – Hurrah! So apart from the songbird which is currently inhabiting my nether regions, I am menopausally (if there is such a word) asymptomatic and I jolly well hope it stays that way!

Blowtorch and Garlic

Greetings, one and all. Long time, no blog.

You may recall (or not, as the case may be), that last time I blogged, which sounds like some disgusting form of sexual perversion, I had just come back from sunny Corsica to do battle again with the UK job market. Well, the good news is that I managed to secure a week’s work in the Mental Health department at my local hospital. Strange how I always seem to gravitate towards Mental Health departments. Am I missing the point here? Anyway, the assignment went very well and there is a slight chance that there may be more work there in the future, hopefully of a permanent nature– Hurrah!

In between waiting for calls from the employment agency, I have been busy on a new project. I’ve been setting up my new web store which sells hand embellished fashions, including lingerie. Unfortunately, despite Twittering, Facebooking, Burdastyling, USTrendying, My Spacing, Beboing and Flickring myself to death (oooerrr missus!), I have still had no sales to date. So if anyone fancies being my first customer, please have a look at my store http://crystalpearl.etsy.com/

All comments and, of course, sales much appreciated.

The cottage cheese thighs are in danger of creating an international incident by becoming a cheese mountain and all the good work from walking up and down the 60 steps at my last place of work has truly been undone, although the scales show only an increase in weight of 2lbs (I’ll leave it to the whiz kids to convert that into kilos.) The fat on the stomach has rudely re-appeared and the ever abhorrent elasticated waist jobbies are looming on the horizon once again.

As for the hot flushes, then I can report a slight improvement and the period chart now has a proud 8 missed months on it, so only another 4 to go and I am officially post menopausal – Double hurrah!

At a recent visit, my hairdresser kindly informed me that he could “do something about” my rapidly advancing grey hair situation but, at £70-£80 a go, I think I’ll just let it march on regardless. Of course, I could do a bit of DIY, but just can’t manage to gird my loins in that direction. Loin girding is in short supply in this house at present.

I’m pleased to say that I’m off to sunny France again on Saturday, for my annual fix of all things Gaelic (and garlic.) Can’t wait to get back to the Luberon where life is most tranquil and pleasant. However, jobs to do before I go include:-

1) Find swimsuit which can suck in a stone of unwanted fat.
2) Shave everything on body to within an inch of its life.
3) Remove 12 layers of chipped maroon nail varnish from toes with blowtorch and repaint.
4) Clean top ledge of window in bathroom in case die in plane crash and mother-in-law finds dirt whilst clearing house.
5) De-flea cat (again.)

Au Revoire, mes petits escargots!

French Bread and Cottage Cheese

Bonjour mes amis

I’ve just returned from two fab weeks in Corsica and, boy, did I need ‘em! The sun shone every day bar one and the sea was warm enough to swim in. Plenty of wine, food, swimming, sleep, reading (and nudists.) Just what the doctor ordered. Now it is back to reality with a bang. Reality being the fruitless search for an enjoyable part-time job in a convivial atmos, working with nice people. It’s like searching for the holy grail when you are 50+ and menopausal. The hot flushes have been pretty gruesome of late and it seems like I only have to think of one to conjure it up. Must get some more Dr Vogel’s Menosan drops, which seem to work if taken regularly. Now there’s the rub, as old Bill Shakes would say, as I get a bit forgetful in this regard. Still desperately trying to think up a nice little internet earner that would allow me to work from home and endure my hot flushes in private, but nothing workable has sprung to mind so far, unless some ultruistic publisher suddenly offers to publish my blog but, quite frankly, I’ve got more chance of being struck by a canary on a bicycle than of that happening.

You may recall that last time I blogged, I was just off to have some cosmetic treatment done to combat the ravages (ravishes? radishes???) of time, i.e. fillers administered to the Grand Canyon that is my forehead. Well, I have to say that it was moderately painful (despite the indignity of the topical anaesthetic and cling film Alice band) and the results were a little on the disappointing side, as the canyon, although less grand, is still firmly in situ. I suppose it was worth a try though.

I haven’t ventured near the weighing scales for over a month, but actually feel as if I have lost some more weight, or at least have managed to tread water, although the thighs are pretty cottage cheesy now and the skin is starting to sag rather alarmingly on the inner thighs. But, on the bright side, the fat on my stomach does appear to have diminished somewhat, so my chances of having a heart attack have probably been halved – which is nice.

As well as the sagging skin, the silver hairs are once again on the march and I feel another battle with the dye bottle is looming on the horizon. Part of me wants to fight the rising tide of menopausal evidence and part of me just can’t be arsed. Love me, love my grey hair/flab/spots/hot flushes/saggy thighs and cellulite.

And, to add to all that……… the cat’s got fleas again!

Tune in and chill out with Menopause and Mayhem!

Klingons and Bee Gees

Two weeks ago, I took the plunge and had a little Botox work done on my forehead. I am pleased to say that the results were better than the first time around when I ended up looking like a “before” and “before” photo. Whilst the improvement is subtle and I have no Spocky eyebrow, it is a precursor to the fillers which I am having tonight. The Botox made my eyes water, as it is like being stung by a dozen very angry bees, but it was bearable. However, for the fillers, I have to administer a topical anaesthetic 45 minutes before treatment and cover the area with cling film to improve the efficacy. It somewhat reminds me of Dave in The Full Monty when he sits in the garden shed, covered in cling film and eating chocolate bars. I hope the neighbours don’t spot me coming out of the house with my cling film bandana and, hopefully, I shall only resemble a Klingon before the treatment and not afterwards. Obviously, I will keep you posted on progress.

The night sweats and hot flushes are beginning to escalate and I’m getting pretty fed up with them now, but I still shy away from the dreaded HRT. Instead, I shall make a foray to the health shop to see what weird and wonderful potions they can suggest. Luckily, I don’t have the mood swings that a friend of mine is currently enduring, whereby she feels like kicking everyone and everything in sight and even berated a sausage roll the other day for daring to break up and make a mess on her newly hoovered carpet. I mean, how bad is that?

TRAGEDY!!! (sung in a Bee Gees Falsetto voice.) The weight is still refusing to budge from 9st 2lbs, despite making sure I went to the loo and cut my toenails before climbing on the scales, so I seem to have hit a bit of a plateau. I have to confess that I did scoff two pieces of birthday gateau that someone at work very kindly brought in yesterday as it would be rude not to, together with a couple of digestive biscuits that I had bought as a treat for the rabbit. From the accusatory glare he gave me, I think he must have heard the rustle of the packet. Who said rabbits were thick? The period chart still remains wonderfully scant and I am now into my fourth consecutive month sans bodily functions, so I’ve only got another eight to go before I earn my badge of honour as a fully paid up member of the Menopause Club – Hurrah!

P.S. The photo is of Klingons, not Bee Gees!

Davros And Cassandra

I’ve decided to do it! I’ve decided to take the plunge and go for the Botox and fillers. After all, you can’t take it with you when you go, as they say. I’m cautiously optimistic about my imminent regeneration from Davros into Lady Cassandra. Moisturise! Moisturise! It’s wonderful what they can do with a sonic screwdriver these days. The thing is, you don’t have to look menopausal just because you are menopausal. Call me superficial if you like, but how you look has a direct effect on your self esteem and wellbeing. The bottom line is that if you look like crap, you feel like crap. End of story.

Speaking of bottom lines, I am fervently hoping that the six flights of stairs I climb each day at work will improve my own bottom line. It’s the original form of step aerobics which should help old Gluteus Maximus (that famous Roman emperor.) If that fails, then I may have to resort to buying a bum bra to lift my cheeks off the back of my legs. Whatever happened to that pert little bottom I had in my 20’s? It sodded off down South, that’s what.

One piece of menopause defying information I’d like to share with you is Co-Enzyme Q10. For several years, I’ve been having chronic gum problems. The situation has sometimes been so bad that it’s been difficult to eat. However, after reading an article on the internet which stated that cholesterol lowering medications called statins can interfere with the body’s own production of Co-Enzyme Q-10, causing chronic gum problems, being on statins myself, I decided to purchase a month’s supply to test the theory. The good news is that they’ve worked like a dream. I’m not saying that all my gum problems are solved, but from the first day I “popped the pill”, I have seen a miraculous improvement. Even my dentist is surprised at the change. Hopefully, I will manage to avoid Nobby Styles syndrome for a bit longer.

http://www.blogarama.com/link-to-us
http://www.bloghints.com

http://www.bloglisting.net

Gene Hunt And A Whore's Drawers

Greetings, my menopausal mates. Long time, no blog. Has anyone ever eaten coleslaw on toast? Well I just have. It’s not part of some weird new fangled diet, but more the fact that I bought it to go with Friday night’s pizza and had nothing else suitable to eat it with. Besides, I hate wasting food. In fact, I haven’t had pizza for ages, as it is not particularly diet friendly but, “a little of what you fancy”, as they say. In any case, I’m pleased to report that my weight is now down to 9st 2lbs. I’m afraid the Saatchi egg diet theory went a bit pear shaped over Christmas due to the usual seasonal excesses, as did the cayenne pepper and green tea. However, a good dose of diarrhoea, followed by flu soon restored the status quo (no air guitars please) and got rid of a couple of extraneous pounds into the bargain.

On the menopausal esteem boosting side, I recently secured a 3 month contract with the NHS which necessitates a 20 minute walk to and from my car each day, plus some great aerobic exercise trugging up several flights of stairs to the 3rd floor office (NHS lifts are notoriously lazy.) Needless to say, I am half dead by the time I get there, but feel quite virtuous nonetheless and the advantages are obvious. I am now able to get back into some of the Size 12 trousers which I was forced to abandon when I was a stone heavier. The downside is that the three new pairs of Size 14 M&S trousers I bought some months back are in danger of becoming victims of my first car boot sale of the year.

On the menopausal esteem squashing side, my face has more lines than the London underground and appears to be dropping faster than a whore’s drawers. I cannot underestimate how demoralising it is to see the proof of such a rapid decline each time I pass a mirror. After much consideration, I therefore decided to reconsider the prospect of a little non-surgical assistance to rectify the situation and, to this end, arranged for an initial consultation with a Consultant of Facial Aesthetics. The prognosis was depressing, both aesthetically and financially, as it was deemed that I would need not only Botox to relax the offending muscles, but also fillers to plump out the deeply entrenched crevasses. The total cost of a year’s “ironing” would amount to the price one would normally pay for 2 weeks’ holiday in the sun, so the jury is still out on that one.

Still, look on the bright side - there’s always Philip Glenister to get the old hormones rushing around again (what’s left of them.) Now that the gorgeous Gene Hunt has temporarily disappeared from our screens, I have turned my attention to a weekly fix of “Demons.” “A little of what you fancy…” Aaaaahhh…….., the pockmarked perfection of the guy!