Pre-Diagnosis Menopause

For reasons that I could barely explain to my boss, let alone friends and family, I managed to figure out a way to spend the month of July, 2010, in NYC. I stayed at my dad and his wife Martha's apartment on the upper west side and worked in my company's NYC office near Times Square.

It was a terrific studio apartment that they weren't using (in fact, they were selling it). What a lucky break, I thought, to be able to work in my company's NYC office for a month, see my NYC work contacts and friends, and theoretically prove some points I'd been trying to make about the futility of my efforts to raise my company's profile among media luminaries from my perch in our Seattle office.

In any event, the setting is NYC, July 2010. Very nearly one of the hottest in history (or, as the weathermen like to say "in recorded history").

I got phone calls and text messages from all of my friends in Seattle. How's NYC?? Are you out every night? Have you been sleeping with that married guy who hit on you a year ago?

The easy answer is, not really. I'm sitting in my dad's studio apartment with excellent air conditioning thinking: I don't want to go outside. I can't deal with this bleeding anymore. I'm so tired.

What's wrong with me?

My period had become annoyingly long in the last six months. Ten to fourteen days, in fact, but I'd ignored it. Now I was dealing with spotting that was happening constantly. CONSTANTLY. As far as I was concerned I had had my period for six weeks even though the spotting was light then heavy on alternate days. It was there every day. I wanted it to stop. I was sure of a million different reasons for it, including cancer, but I decided to ignore it.

Like so many women I know, I didn't know for sure when my period was supposed to start or end. I didn't really pay close attention to it. It came, it went, and I was just glad it was over. Usually it hit when my friends' periods hit. That was neat, and made me think back to my last one and confirm a general 30-35 day window. I'm normal, I would think.

This time I knew it wasn't normal. I knew because it should have been over when I went to Alaska for a long weekend. I was traveling by myself because I'd always wanted to see the midnight sun during Solstice weekend (June 21st). My period was supposed to be over days before then, but I had experienced such long ones in the last six months I just assumed this was another example of that. But it was weird. It was more like heavy spotting, and it didn't stop.

Then I flew to NYC July 1st... and it hadn't stopped.

I was in "I'm not normal" territory.

I called my doctor in Seattle, a general practitioner who looks and acts exactly like Ned Flanders on The Simpsons. He's very nice. He didn't call me back, though. His assistant called. She said that unless I was filling a tampon every hour it wasn't an emergency. I might have an ectopic pregnancy, so I should do a pregnancy test, but the most likely cause is early menopause.

"Menopause?"

"Yes, menopause. It's not that common, but it can hit as early as 36."

"But I'm bleeding too much, not missing periods."

"Well, it sounds a lot like what I had when I experienced early menopause, so it's probably that. Don't worry. Set up an appointment for when you return to Seattle in August."

I was devastated. Menopause? And I have menopause because SHE had it? Sounded like bad medical advice, but I was willing to believe it. I spent that night crying about the fact that I wouldn't have children, and calling girlfriends.

So I kept on using tampons for medium spotting and went on with my life. I was freaked out, and tired all the time, but I was relieved that I didn't have to go to a doctor in NYC. It wasn't an emergency.