BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS
Making a video series about menopause wasn’t an easy task for Herald journalists Carolyne Meng-Yee and Mike Scott. Meng-Yee talks about how it came about and her own menopause experience — from hot flushes and flash flooding to foggy brain and anxiety
When I suggested a video series on menopause, a middle-aged news editor blew a gasket. “Bloody hell — only half the population will watch it,” he shrieked — or should I say mansplained?
He’s right. Most men don’t want to know about “it” and some women avoid talking about “it”.
The thing is, menopause matters, and conversations about “it” are firing up. Women from the “girls can do anything” era can’t stop talking about “it”.
Menopause is likely to have an impact on relationships, families, friends and in the workplace. It happened to me, and like many women, I suffered in silence.
Meno-rage, night sweats and a dry vagina are the stuff of jokey Instagram memes. But for many women, they are anything but funny.
Perimenopause is its evil sister, a stealthy precursor to menopause that will slap you in the face when you least expect it — months, sometimes years before your period stops. Ageing ovaries stop producing oestrogen — the hormone that controls many functions of a woman’s body. And on come the endless symptoms: hot flushes that make you feel like you’re boiling from the inside out, irritability and itchy skin.
I was a hot mess through perimenopause and wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of symptoms — hot flushes, flash flooding and a foggy brain. My sleep was disrupted and anxiety crept into my life as insidiously as the icy chill of feeling invisible and cancelled.
Then menopause arrives and your periods stop, a relief for many women who have suffered the crippling agony of endometriosis. But the menopause symptoms don’t leave you alone: they can stay with you for years.
Endocrinologist Dr Megan Ogilvie at Fertility Associates Auckland says around 20 per cent of women will escape with few symptoms. But 80 per cent won’t and about half of that group suffer symptoms that affects their quality of life.
Blood, Sweat and Tears was conceived after a candid chat with my colleague Mike Scott, who filmed, directed and edited the series. Together we have worked on many stories and he’s never been “judgey” when I’ve had a flush or been a bit cranky.
At home, Mike says he’s used to dodging hormonal bombs being lobbed at him from his two teenage daughters and his perimenopausal partner.
He says he has learned to understand the physical symptoms of menopause and how it has shaped his family.
“As a guy, I’ve dodged bullets not having a monthly cycle to worry about and not physically experiencing an end to these cycles. The rage, anxiety, brain fog and insomnia can ricochet through relationships and families, causing immense damage.
“I live with a wonderful partner in her 50s and two teenage girls so unsurprisingly there were bombs lobbed. The worst thing was not understanding how conflicts arose or where the bombs were coming from and how I reacted.
“Menopause is a natural part of life, there are treatments, so there is hope.”
In preparation for the series, it was my job to find “talent” to talk about their experiences on camera. I approached a range of women — cops, lawyers, judges, contacts in our industry. But although they applauded the idea of a series on menopause, none wanted to share her story publicly for fear of being judged by peers and bosses.
No midlife woman wants to be singled out as weak or vulnerable or provide another excuse to be written off.
A celebrity broadcaster with more than 40,000 Instagram followers was insulted at the mere suggestion she might be going through menopause. “What a bitch, why did you ring me?” she laughed out loud.
After many phone calls and a tonne of rejection, my dogged determination and gentle persuasion paid off. We
met women brave enough to speak out — a firefighter who thought she might have Alzheimer’s; on the way to emergencies she would forget where she was going. An award-winning columnist who developed debilitating anxiety; and a mother who thought of walking away from her family because she could not bear for her kids to hug her.
We filmed endocrinologists who explain menopausal symptoms and treatments and debunk myths about hormone replacement therapy (HRT). We learned of work initiatives such as menstrual and menopause leave.
Former Herald premium content editor Miriyana Alexander, who commissioned this series, introduced period products in our office bathrooms last year to support female colleagues.
Alexander, 52, a strong advocate for women’s health, says it is important for male bosses to be educated about menopause and for women not to shy away from talking about it at work.
“I say, ‘bugger’ to that. I think we need to own the space, it’s natural. I’m a straight shooter and there are some days I need to be near the bathroom, so I don’t have a problem saying I’m going to work from home today. Women are half the workforce so it’s appropriate to take sick leave and have flexible working hours,” Alexander says.
Pacific Media Network offered menstrual and menopause leave to its female staff in 2022. Chief executive Don Mann says there is an inequity between how males and females deal with sick leave. “The males were 100 per cent supportive of extra leave for women. We have a natural inclination to look after one another.”
Ogilvie says women struggling with their mental health is not uncommon.
“If you have had a major depressive episode in the past, you have a 50 per cent chance of recurrence in perimenopause. If you’ve never had a major depressive episode, then you have a 25 per cent chance of a major depressive episode — that is significant and incredibly impactful on women’s lives.”
Mental health in menopause is surprisingly illexplored, as Megan Nicol Reed discovered. “It was torture and the anxiety nearly killed me.”
The award-winning columnist and author of the gripping novel One of Those Mothers says she experienced hot flushes and interrupted sleep. “I was physically ageing and to be honest I had a very dry vagina.”
The 49-year-old mother says she escalated from being worried all the time to being beside herself. “I wasn’t doing my usual freak out about stuff; I was having full-blown panic attacks.”
Nicol Reed thought she was resilient and could get on top of things without anti-anxiety medication, but she is now thankful for the little pill she takes. Her mother Lynne Browning says it’s great to see her daughter laugh again.
“It was agonising. I felt so sad for her, there were times she hurt me dreadfully and that was hard as a mother. Her friends asked me to convince her to get medication, but I felt I couldn’t twist her arm . . . it had to be her decision. It was really a chemical imbalance, heightened by menopause.
“Megan was fraught with anxiety. The most wonderful thing I’ve seen is her laughing.
“You know when your daughter doesn’t smile or is riddled with so much angst, it’s permeating every aspect of her life . . . well, to see her throwing her head back and having a good old belly laugh
. . . is just wonderful.”
I know how Megan feels. I’m through the worst now.
My panic attacks have lessened, I can wear my cream skirt without being paranoid and I no longer fire missiles at my husband when he loses his car keys.
My energy is back, I can stay on my feet all day in 32C heat — without a pee break for 16 hours — staking out a former Prime Minister’s wedding.
Best of all, I can sleep. I just need to figure out why I have a recurring dream of someone trying to strangle me.