First, a cute kitten video, just because...kittens! https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=eZzn0Zi1Kc0
Now, I'm going to write an update on my Crohn's, how it's going and what is going on with the upholstered belly.
But first let me state categorically that MENOPAUSE SUCKS.
Since I began taking Remicade about 7-8 weeks ago, I have had so many hot flashes that I am surprised that I haven't melted into a puddle of grumpy fat.
The flashes come on me all of a sudden, and then I feel like a baked potato in a microwave, being cooked from the inside out, as sweat pours off of my face and chest. I also have night sweats, which, in conjunction with hot flashes, leave me feeling like I'm living in the third ring of Hades.
I also have constipation, belly bloating (more than I already had with Crohns) and I'm very emotional, often vacillating between wanting to hug everyone and cry and wanting to punch people in the face and cry. Nightmares and insomnia are also not helping me maintain my equilibrium.
I'm also gaining weight at an exponential rate, so now I am this huge, fat, grumpy, red-faced sweaty old woman with tight clothes who people would do well to avoid. So that all makes me depressed, which leads me to my other complaint, which is that my doctors seem not to know which of my symptoms are side effects of the Remicade and which are menopausal. The crazy OB/GYM that I went to see wanted to do what most male doctors want to do with women undergoing the change, which is put us on hormones and anti depressants and breathe a sigh of relief when we get cancer from the hormones so they don't have to deal with us anymore, now that we're no longer able to produce children and be all young and sexy and obsessed with pleasing men. Most of the women I know who are my age or even a few years younger find that they could care less about sex and about their demanding portly husbands and rude teenage children. (I must note two things here, first that my son Nick is not a rude teenager, exactly the opposite, actually, and he's also still quite compassionate and always gives his mom a huge hug and kiss every day. Also, my husband says that I am not fat, grumpy, sweaty and red faced to him...he still sees me as his frisky wife, just in slo-mo).
I am fortunate in that my husband, since his prostate removal, could also care less about sex, and is actually acts more like a teenage girl than I ever did. He's also got diabetes, so he's working on his diet, finally, by eating a protein rich diet and doing some exercise and only drinking one or two beers a day/night. So he's undergoing a manopause transformation by losing weight.
Meanwhile, next week is my third or fourth (I can't remember, another great menopause symptom, forgetfulness) Remicade infusion at the beautiful Day Surgery Center at St Elizabeth Hospital in Enumclaw. Seriously, I highly recommend this place if you're going to have any kind of outpatient procedure at all, because the nurses are wonderful, the DSC is small and new and appointed with nice chair-beds, regular beds with air conditioning and even lunch service. It's sort of like going to a very clean spa staffed by nurses and doctors.
But the problem is that after each infusion, I feel like I am pregnant, and while I'm nauseous, bloated, fatigued and constipated and I am more importantly unable to deficate for at least 48 hours. This is particularly frustrating because Remicade is supposed to ease my Crohns symptoms enough that going to the bathroom is easier, not harder. I have to strain and push like I am going through labor every single time I'm on the toilet. I've also got something akin to interstitial cystitis, because I get up every two hours in the night to pee, and if I try and wait to urinate, I am incontinent.
Sounds like loads of fun, doesn't it? The only good thing about the Remicade so far is that I've only had two short, mildly painful flares since going on the drug. That's a vast improvement over having three or more flares a week that were always 6-8 hours long and hella painful. My gastroenterologist, Dr Mulhall, is finally back from whatever emergency was keeping him away from his practice. So I've been to see him, and last week I called in hopes of talking to him about my symptoms on the phone. His nurse, whom I left a message with, didn't call back, but I hope to hear from them before my infusion on the 29th. Oh, and I have discovered that the Nortryptaline that I was taking before bedtime doesn't work anymore, instead it makes me constipated and anxious. So I've stopped taking it in hopes of some relief. I have to keep my spirits up, though, and not fall prey to depression and anxiety attacks, or I will end up on more anti-depressants with their nasty side effects of even more weight gain.
I am still exercising 3-4 times a week for at least an hour, and I just read a great book about going through menopause called "The Madwoman in the Volvo" that was pretty funny but somewhat unrealistic in its solutions for the average middle aged woman. (Most of us can't afford to have a maid come in to clean, or to get a divorce and remarry someone more exciting who cooks and dotes on you 24/7. Nor can I afford fancy getaway weekends, parties, spas or rehab. Considering I don't drink or do recreational drugs, I think I don't need to worry about the latter.) Still, the parts about having to care for your family and also care for your aging parents who do crazy stuff really resonated with me. Unlike Loh, the author, I don't have a fancy background and tons of freelance jobs to fall back on, nor do I have a ton of well connected friends who send work my way or a father who has a bunch of bank accounts with money saved in them for me. I don't write books, either, and I only did stand up comedy for a brief period of time in the 1990s. So I have more reasons to kvetch than Loh does, yet I would say that I am not nearly as bitter or mean as she claims to be, and I would never consider leaving my husband and son in a fit of pique.
However, I am hanging in there, and I hope that this summer will be a good one. We're taking our annual drum and bugle corps trip to Portland, Oregon, with it's annual Powells City of Books pilgrimage for me, while Nick is taking a computer coding class at a local community college. So here's to a hopefully cool summer and a few months without pain and strictures and other Crohns problems.
