Men 'o pause

Menopause is a type of insanity. A functional one, but a little insanity nonetheless.

Mine came about a decade early and while I'm past the typical hot flashes and other humiliating aspects of The Change, as it's euphemistically called in gringo culture, the crankiness remains in high gear a lot of the time. And for no valid reason at all, since my life couldn't be more perfect and more satisfying. It almost seems disloyal to my life to be so cranky so often.

I've recently sort of come to terms with the fact that I'm really not in control here, that there's someone else steering the vessel, so to speak, and it's my insane hormones. It's not easy to accept the fact that my friggin' hormones have thrown my female body into a maelstrom. It really goes against the total-control freak in me. But this is one fight I don't think I can win.

I've taken out book after book after book from the public library, looking for answers and I've basically come up with one realization: I'm just going to have to ride this one through.

"How long does menopause last?" my beleaguered husband asked me this afternoon.

"Until I'm past fifty," I said, pouting.

"Five more years of this!" he exclaimed, unbelieving. Then, only half in jest he wondered if he'd be able to survive it that long.

I guess menopause is well named because it does give men a lot of pause when dealing with women in the throes of its irrationality. But the library books promise great things to come (none of which I'm too clear about) so I'm going to try to be my erstwhile bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed self about this and ride it out and trust that the best is coming (although the cranky, menopausal part of me doesn't really believe that).

Maybe menopause is the female way of raging against the dying of the light. Not that I feel like my light is dying, by any means. But this must be that time when the body realizes that an important corner has been turned and that the slope going down might be shorter than the one we've taken to come up.

As for me, I present myself to the universe, men 'o pausing crankiness and all, and say "Bring it on." I just hope that my husband, who forever will be the best thing that ever happened to me, sees the next five years as a Zen-like and saint-in-training exercise in patience. God help me, that's all I can do!