The Pill? No, it’s the menopause that puts us on right road

MUCH fanfare over the news surgeons have found a way to delay the menopause. Nine women have undergone the procedure, which involves an ovarian implant, at a cost of around €11,000 per patient.

Not only does the operation reverse unwelcome symptoms, from hot flushes to the sense of decrepitude that comes with the tapering of female hormones, it may even restore fertility. Hurrah! That, at least, seems to be the general consensus. And for women who either enter the menopause early or haven’t yet been able to start a family, I would agree unconditionally. But, for the rest of us, I’m not so sure.

Don’t get me wrong — I hated the menopause. I suffered the full gamut of symptoms, from flushes that rose like volcanic lava, to muscle fatigue and joint pain.

I began to chunk up like a labrador and no amount of exercise or diet made a difference. My hair grew even thinner, my skin became dry, my fingers and feet started to swell and my blood pressure soared. I felt as though Mother Nature wanted me dead.

NOT surprisingly, I was also all over the place emotionally. My poor family had to put up with months of me being alternately sad, hysterical, furious, exhausted, confused and generally more bonkers than usual. Luckily, I was eventually prescribed HRT (hormone replacement therapy) and the nightmare receded.

I took the pills, very successfully, for around two years, and have been HRT-free for just over 18 months. I feel better than I have for a long time. And I’m convinced it’s all

thanks to the menopause. For the first time in my adult life, I am not a slave to my hormones. The highs and lows of the menstrual cycle have been replaced with a single-note existence, in which I wake up every morning feeling mostly the same as the day before (give or take the odd glass of wine). Much, as I imagine, most men do, which probably explains why they came to be in charge for so long. My

pre-menopause hormones ruled my life. And now they don’t. No more bloating, break-outs or headaches, no more bursting into tears for no reason or requiring chocolate at odd times of the day and night.

Hormonally speaking, I am a blank page. And I love it. In fact, I’d say it’s been a liberation.

Forget the Pill, it’s the menopause that truly sets a woman free. Sure, the transition is unpleasant — like becoming a teenager in reverse.

But, afterwards, it’s no longer all about living everyone else’s life for them, it’s about living your own.

This is what TV presenter Fern Britton meant when she talked about jettisoning some of her obligations now that her children are older, and ‘repowering’ her life aged 62.

Contrast that with poor Anna Friel. At 43, actress Friel — mother to a teenage daughter — is in the thick of it in terms of juggling work and family life, and is clearly feeling it.

‘Men don’t have to have babies or periods and they grow older more beautifully,’ she says, somewhat wistfully. And she’s right.

The good news, Anna, is there’s light at the end of that tunnel. Freedom from all that hormonal soup. It won’t be pretty and it won’t be easy — but, trust me, once you’re over the hump, there is no looking back.