Menopause And Friends

My life flipped upside down.

I have never seemed to win anywhere on the ladder where biology is concerned. I am currently 41 years old, and on top of a myriad of other issues, I have now been hit with early menopause brought about by PCOS and multiple surgeries to remove cysts and parts of my reproductive system. That early jump into the next stage of womanhood came with some gifts (I use the term sarcastically, of course) that just keep on giving.

About four years ago, I thought that I was going to die. I had developed daily heartburn for one. Terrible bouts of it that would keep me awake all hours of the night. It did not matter what I ate or drank; I could not make it go away for any real length of time. My muscles were always sore, even if I did not do any strenuous activities. My joints had also started to swell and stayed swollen for two to three times a week.

If all of that was not good enough to keep me miserable and convinced of my impending demise, there was the bleeding. Rectal bleeding, to be exact. One hundred percent honesty; it was not a little toilet paper coloring that we are talking about here. We are talking the kind of bleeding that would make you think that you were on a never-ending period, only from your backside instead of the lady bits. Yes, I thought I was going to die of colon cancer or something equally as bad.