These days, you can’t move for hearing about the menopause. It’s gone from being something that people were embarrassed to talk about, to the hot topic du jour. This is great, of course. But two years ago, I couldn’t have cared less. I had just turned 40, and assumed I had at least another decade before I even had to think about it. And then came cancer.
My last period, before chemotherapy brutally extinguished my ovaries, was February 2021. I distinctly remember searching through my bag for a tampon in the chemo ward toilets, hair wet from the cold cap and rising nausea in my stomach. On that day, I would have been pretty happy to know I’d never have to do that again. Now, though, I weirdly miss my periods. Well… perhaps I don’t miss the actual periods, but I miss the rhythm of feeling great while ovulating and hunkering down with PMT. And losing my fertility - alon…
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