Hormonal, Hairy, Horny, & Hungry

Male menopause is a lot more fun than female menopause. With female menopause you gain weight and get hot flashes. Male menopause - you get to date young girls and drive motorcycles.
- Rita Rudner


I woke up Saturday morning a little sweaty. Was I having a night sweat? It was morning, humid and in the 90s. How will I know? I keep waiting...for something; I mean nothing?

I have noticed a need for increased lip-waxing. I look like a teenage boy with peach fuzz and laugh lines. Sunday morning, I zipped my lip before applying lipstick, easier without doing a part.

Hungry...voraciously hungry for anything, everything. Chips, ice cream...chocolate! Milk, dark, white, I am not picky. Anything loaded with fat, carbs and sodium.

Feeling sensual and amorous, arousal smolders at the possibilities. Inwardly, I struggle with an internal debate, Would I rather make passionate love or savor buttered popcorn? Can one make love while eating popcorn?

Hormone spikes stimulate my appetites, but also create havoc with my blood sugars and SPS symptoms. Over the weekend, I woke in the middle of the night to a blood sugar plummet just to awaken to an unhealthy high in the morning, and hungry!

While my biological clock is chiming, "Party-down at high noon," hormonal power surges create additional symptom brownouts for my compromised mobility issues.

A wild weekend ride, but by Monday I was a happily grounded girl.

"It is sad to grow old, but nice to ripen." ~Brigitte Bardot~

Copyright © 2009

Mrs. Crabtree

"As I give thought to the matter, I find four causes for the apparent misery of old age: first, it withdraws us from active accomplishments; second, it renders the body less powerful; third, it deprives us of almost all forms of enjoyment; fourth, it stands not far from death." ~Cicero~

Since diagnosed with a chronic neurological disorder, Stiff Person Syndrome, I walk with a shuffled gait, am sometimes slow, or completely immobile. Watching the effortless movements of others, I feel envy.

I watch the slow, deliberate shuffle of the elderly and I feel a kinship. As physical limitations are difficult for me to accept, I think about the parallels of getting old and disability. Does one grieve their physical losses with age? My opening quotation could easily define disability from chronic illness.

At the nursing home today, I saw Mrs. Crabtree. Smiling a broad genuine smile from her wheelchair, she asked me if I had seen her latest painting on the easel. I promised her I would look at it when we left.

Listening to the gospel music with the residents, Mrs Crabtree decided to join us. Fascinated, I studied her through the program. Wearing a loud print floral dress, the hem skimmed her feet, encased in very large athletic shoes. The thin material molded her ample frame, revealing a missing left breast.

Focused on her project, she meticulously crocheted tight, neat squares of lavender and green, her contribution to a group-effort baby blanket. Putting the squares away, capable hands of a few seconds earlier shook with the effort of gathering up her supplies. Busy, always busy, and interested in something. Painting, magic marker art, crocheting, puzzles and always upbeat and happy from her wheelchair vantage and nursing home confinement...not to mention her physical ails.

Mrs. Crabtree still accomplishes, selling her paintings, enthusiastically pursing interests and activities. She still finds immeasurable enjoyment in life, in spite of her physical limitations and living on life's death row.

Unknowingly, she is an inspiration on how I can live with disability and chronic illness. I got to hug Mrs. Crabtree, checking out her latest painting as we left.

"None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm." ~Henry David Thoreau~

Copyright © 2009

The Spoon Theory

I look healthy. Invisible illness allows me to be a 'poser' of normalcy. The last few weeks have been a dizzying circuit of medical appointments, family visits, and time with friends. Dancing the dance of presumed health, I pay the fiddler. I guess it is like our national deficit, I keep borrowing from my future reserves until some days I collapse in bed from exhaustion.

I remember the days when I could outlast the Energizer Bunny.

A lady with a chronic illness shared this link on another support site. The truth of this piece clicked in my mind with the simple analogy used in describing chronic illness to someone.

I thought I would share.

The Spoon Theory

Antibacterial - Security Alert!

"You got to be careful if you don't know where you're going, because you might not get there." ~Yogi Berra~

These few weeks are a personal tourist season, complete with my traveling entourage: SPS, diabetes, and what next? R & R is the brief 'recoup and repack' at home between travels.(travails?)

My latest trip, I was escorted aside for additional airline security checks, coming and going. The only threat I pose is to myself, but...

Going...Swine flu is debated, debunked, and detailed in news coverage with a running death count. Armed with a small bottle of antibacterial gel, an x-ray of my purse determines I am in need of closer scrutiny. Juggling my cane and shoes, I am taken aside to purse contents exploration and rummage through my carry-on. I am told to take the gel out of my purse..."the next time." Bath & Body Works is now a delicately-scented terrorist threat.

Coming home - Lesson learned. I remove my antibacterial gel from my purse to go solo into x-ray. My Levi rivets and insulin pump set off the alarm as I labor through the metal detector. "Female security needed," the attending male booms.

Once more, I am escorted to the side. Wanded and patted down, I am again cleared for take-off. As I unpack my checked luggage when I get home, I discover the cap of a new tube of body cream ripped off at the hinge. I envision unknown gloved hands going through my dirty laundry after mutilating my tube of Bath & Body Works Dancing Waters.

Next on the itinerary, a road trip to the Gulf to visit with friends...an island, white sand, food, and zero threat alert for my Dancing Waters.

"The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and a leaky tire." ~Unknown~

Copyright © 2009