Darling columnist Kate Greenhalgh talks about her experience with the menopause and how she was led to help. Celebs like Davina McCall are speaking out about this now and it’s about time we normalised something that happens to all women
Kate’s personal journey:
At the age of 53, I started to lose my marbles. I couldn’t remember anything, I couldn’t concentrate on anything, I couldn’t navigate anywhere. I got lost driving to the dentist. I would start a sentence and forget how to end it. I couldn’t follow conversations. I couldn’t follow recipes. I misplaced things all the time. It was like a constant brain fog, pedals turning on a bicycle when the chain has come off.
Having a very kind, patient, efficient partner, I was able to hide my muddle behind his practicality. I couldn’t bear to tell him, or any of my children, that I thought they were losing me, but I needed to plan for my incapacity before it became too acute. When would be the right time to say something? As well as being muddled, I was now always anxious and frightened. At night, I was drenched in sweat and my sleep was shallow and troubled, with repetitive thoughts going round and round like a stuck record. I tried keeping secret notes to remind me of the things to ask people about, but then I would forget that I’d even made the note. It was after a year or so, when I got lost meeting an old friend at a regular haunt, I bottomed out. When I finally found her, I burst into tears. ‘I’m going mad!’ I sobbed.
‘Or possibly menopausal.’ she said, calmly. ‘Go and see Mr Braithwaite.’
A private gynaecologist? Surely not. They are for hypochondriac American women who take their pipework too seriously. Menopause? Surely you just crack on – how bad can it really be? Menopause is for pussies, so to speak. The GP’s I had seen told me it was all normal and I’d pull through if I opened the windows at night and tried not to get stressed. But I went to see Mr Braithwaite, getting a bit lost en route, of course. ‘Mr Braithwaite, either I need you, or a psychiatrist, or a dementia assessment, but I hope it’s you.’ ‘I think it probably is me,’ he said soothingly. (And I know. Why are these people usually men – bit annoying).
Mr Braithwaite found that I had NO hormones. Zilch. The Gobi Desert of hormone-land. All those fruitful childbearing years, awash with the stuff, then a complete cliff-edge. He prescribed various gels and pills which I slathered on and swallowed. We had the breast cancer chat, and he told me what is now widely agreed by scientists – the increased risk with the new HRT treatments is vanishingly small. And in any case, how does one live like this without help from hormone replacements? I was going ga-ga.
It was like the most extraordinary miracle. My friend’s advice had saved me. Within hours, literally hours, the fog started to lift. My mojo came flooding back. Clarity, concentration, crosswords – welcome back old friends! Not to mention my inner satnav. It was like emerging out of darkness into the light.
Fast forward a few years, and the relief and joie-de-vivre are still powerful. But by now, the news has really got out, because of publicity and information coming from well-known women like Davina McCall. The Big Conversation is happening and at last the NHS are prescribing what only private gynaecologists would give out. And lo and behold, no sooner than it does, the letters pages and opinion pieces start to fill up with women pouring scorn on the HRT ‘hysteria’ which has broken out. “I was fine. I just got on with it. Don’t lump me in with these weak, pathetic women!” Many insist the ‘natural’ way is best. Rather like the childbirth debate – all fine if ‘natural’ happens to work out for you. Nature is not always particularly compassionate. So yes – we know a lot of women are fine going through menopause. A lot suffer only mild side effects. But if this is you, please do not step on those of us for whom it has been a biological juggernaut. Problems with the menopause do not relate to every woman, but right now it is not about everyone – it is about the women for whom this is an amazing, life-changing breakthrough. Mr Braithwaite told me he became a gynaecologist because of what his mother went through. “It makes me sad,” he told me. “If I could go back in time I could save her now from what the menopause did to her.”
Have a look at Dr Naomi Potter, our resident menopause expert
@davinamccall
Main photo Kat Smith
