It’s time for change about The Change

APPARENTLY there is no word for “hot flushes” in Japanese. One theory is that few Japanese women have hot flushes during menopause because their diet is so high in the phyto-oestrogen soy. Another theory is that because it is deemed an unmentionable subject, it is simply a case that no word has evolved. Given that menopause is something half the world has been going through for the thousands years since life expectancy got decent, it has been remarkably undiscussed anywhere so it’s probably amazing we have a word for it.

But this is changing, so much so that among women of mid-forties onwards it is difficult to have a conversation that doesn’t contain some mention of menopause. Which none of us ever refer to as The Change, full title only please. It might only be jokes about how a tampon in your handbag is a badge of honour after a certain age, but still the topic arises.

I had hoped it might be abolished or something by the time I got there but at this stage in the oestrogen game, menopause abolition is not looking hopeful for me. Next best thing then was denial, I was just going to pretend it was never going to happen. My age and the fact that everyone keeps talking, and indeed often asking, about it means that this is impossible and I am on high menopause alert.

The Girlchild alleges this has led to me attributing every single event, symptom, vague oddity to the possibility so it has become the family joke. “I have a headache.” Maybe it’s the menopause? “I forgot to buy milk.” Maybe it’s the menopause? “It’s raining.” Menopause? “I have a puncture.” Oh, menopause. I’m starting to think not talking about it was a good thing.