Six months ago, after having my hormone levels checked, my doctor declared me officially in menopause. The fact that he said he wouldn’t be surprised if I walked across the room and ashes fell out of my pants was all I needed to hear to throw out all my tampons, eat a cheesecake, and do a happy dance around my house —keeping an eye on the floor for ash fallout, obviously.
Ironically, the symptoms I’d been having weren’t unlike the ones that had plagued me four years earlier when my older daug...
Published on September 26, 2018 11:16