So I did a little poking around on the Net today regarding perimenopause. And I found some interesting stuff out there. I also found a lot of drek. Any site that promoted its own "plan," that sold herbs and botanicals, or had more advertising than text was rejected out of hand. One of the more amusing/dangerous sites actually promulgated the idea that hormone replacement therapy caused "hot flushes, night sweats, bloating, indigestion, allergies, headaches, insomnia, fatigue, depression, high blood pressure, weight gain, head hair loss, facial hair growth, mood swings, aging skin, irritability, foggy thinking, lack of concentration, anxiety attacks, heart palpitations, bone loss, and heavy bleeding" and claimed that doctors were causing estrogen overdoses. I'm not necessarily a fan of HRT, but I don't see the need to fabricate claims against it when the truth will do.
Another site promoted the use of "natural supplements" claiming that they "do not have the side effects ... of medications". This is dangerously false. Estrogen is estrogen, regardless of the source, and this includes plant-derived estrogen and estrogen-like hormones. There is no such thing as "dangerous estrogen" or "safe estrogen". The only real difference is that herbal supplement production and side-effects are not yet under complete FDA oversight, so there is no control over any sort of contamination that may appear in the natural supplements, nor is there any check to ensure that the dose of the supplement is within effective bounds or within safe bounds. But that's another rant for another time.
Sorting through the remaining sites I discovered a few things. Lowered estrogen levels can lead to high blood pressure and heart beat irregularities. Irregular estrogen levels can trigger migraines (I only started getting headaches after the transplant, not while I was in end stage liver disease). Lowered estrogen levels can of course lead to irregular and heavy menstrual bleeding. Lowered estrogen levels can lead to short term memory loss (anybody remember me missing any meetings recently?). Lowered estrogen levels can mess with the appetite center in your brain, causing food cravings (especially for sweet, glucose high foods). And here's the kicker ... irregular estrogen levels can lead to chronic diarrhea/irritable bowel symptoms (I started with daily IBS symptoms three years ago, with very mild signs, and about the same time I started mild menstral problems).
Now granted, I did have terminal liver disease, and this may have exacerbated or hidden some of the symptoms. But I was having some of these symptoms a year BEFORE I was diagnosed with Bud Chiari. And I was certainly having all these symptoms six months after my transplant, when most of my bloodwork was coming back "within normal limits". Why did none of these freaking specialists even consider that my symptoms could be triggered by perimenopause?
Yesterday's transplant doctor has me particularly ticked off at the moment. I was sitting in his office with a repeatable blood pressure of 180+ over 90+, and he attributes it to the stress of my coming in for a check-up? Excuuuuuse me? I am the woman who's practically lived in doctors' waiting rooms for the past two years. I am the woman who has previously had consistent blood pressures in the 140/80 range (or lower). I am the woman with a heart history, as well as liver problems. And he wants to put it down to White Coat Syndrome? Now that I'm feeling better, I'm working up an excellent head of indignation here.
I'm monitoring my blood pressure several times a day, until next week's ob gyn appointment. And I'm hoping that I'll find some support with this new doctor.
As if my woes were currently insufficient, access has been cut off to the nearest bathroom to my office. That's right. The woman who is blowing through tampons (with pads) every few hours ... the woman with IBS ... the woman who has to wash her hands after touching nearly everything ... this is the woman who now has to walk nearly five minutes to get to the nearest restroom.
They have begun deconstruction of the wing of the building just next to my office, which is where the bathroom is. I cannot get to the restroom without having to don white coat, hard-hat and steel-toed boots. I then have to walk around to the back door and wait until the heavy machinery and foot traffic give me a chance to get into the building.
This promises to be a very difficult in the weeks ahead. I believe I may request a port-a-potty for outside my office door. The consequences of having anything further away do not bear serious consideration.
And that was supposed to be the end of today's rant. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of tripping over my own two feet in one of the production departments today. I have discovered that tripping with witnesses is a federal offense, punishable by death through embarrassment. Ever wonder why they call it "mortification"? Because you wish you were mort, that's why.
It was, if I say so myself, a rather spectacular fall. There was an entire lifetime when I knew I wasn't going to actually fall. All I had to do is get the left foot ahead of the right foot, and it would simply be a stumble. Granted, it would be a stumble in front of a hundred witnesses, all of whom know my name, but it would have been a save, worthy of the record books. Then the toe of my left foot caught on the heel of my right foot.
I went from a lifetime of knowing I was fine to a split second of realizing I was going to crash. Still, I wasn't particularly concerned. Both arms were free, there was a handrail immediately to my right, and while I'd go down, the worst it would be was catching myself on the handrail or palms down on the floor. The handrail slipped past my fingers as if it were greased.
OK, that ensured impact. Still, it was no big deal. With both hands out in front of me to catch the impact, palms met floor. What I hadn't taken into consideration was that my right arm is still very weak due to the nerve damage in my neck from four months ago. The arm collapsed from under me like a sheet of aluminum foil.
Fortunately, my head finally broke my fall. Let's face it, that's the least vulnerable piece of anatomy I own. I had fallen to my right side, owing to the lack of support from the aforementioned arm of aluminum foil. Upon contact with the floor my hard hat flew off, allowing my head to make good solid contact with the grating. My right temple took the force of the blow. To be honest, I barely even felt it. That is possibly due to the fact that my ego had just taken a mortal wound. The head simply didn't measure up to real pain.
There were immediately three men there to assist me in regaining my feet. I begged one of them to simply push me over to the gutter, where I could lie invisibly and in peace, but he felt it would look bad if anybody from outside the department came by. So up I went, placing hardhat back on head and thanking everyone who had reached out to help me in my time of need, explaining I could only take one hand for assistance, but appreciated the fact that so many others were offered. I then went about my business, hoping that if I pretended nothing happened, everybody else would as well. That tactic lasted well for an hour or so ... right up until lunchtime.
The bump on my temple was what gave things away. I tried to pass it off as a joke, and I did get my department mates to laugh about it. Still, after lunch I was made to go to the infirmary and register this as on on-plant accident. Which meant getting an exam (Do you want ice? No? OK, let us know if it gives you any trouble.) and then having an accident report filled out (Cause of accident: Employee has two left feet. How will you prevent accident from happening again?: Employee was sufficiently embarrassed to motivate her to keep from tripping over nothing in front of witnesses again.).
I can't wait until this one hits Personnel.