On The Fritz

Instead of posting a picture of my neck and face, you get my cat.

Dearest Gentle Reader,

We are eight weeks into Cougar Puberty, and I can report that my body is completely “on the fritz”. The most malfunctioning part is my skin; it’s absolutely FREAKING out. All the expensive skin care I covet was unusable for weeks, because my face had to have an absolute meltdown now that estrogen is in shorter supply. It’s been Mr. Toads Wild ride in here, and yes, no one asked but I was actually afraid of that ride as a child at Disneyland.

Current shenanigans/situations have been the following: my skin instantly changing within days after surgery, a severe allergic reaction to a product that swelled up my eyes, followed by an even worse reaction to a cream I was given (from my doctor) FOR said swollen eyes, which felt exactly like having a severe sunburn on your eyelids.

My pharmacist, when I paid him a visit and pleaded for guidance on how to tend to this burning feeling, was shocked and appalled that I would even put that cream near my eyelids. I spent several days just using cold compresses and ONLY Vaseline as a moisturizer. It took 48 hours to stop burning, and almost two full weeks before the skin on my eyelids went back to normal. My doctor told me that yes, some people *may* have a slight reaction to it when I let them know I had cauterized my skin, manually, with lotion. I feel like he severely downplayed this medication side effect, as I’m pretty sure they used it on prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.

I’ll admit here that I strategically omitted (to all health care professionals) the part about when I opened the package, took out the VERY thick booklet of directions of side effects and promptly tossed it in the trash. I mean, why would anyone need instructions for a freaking cream?

The obvious Shakespearean foreshadowing of that event was lost on me at that moment, until my eyelids started burning off my face. It was then I googled the name of the cream and found that almost the entirety of the first page of search results had the sentence “how do I make this stop burning”.

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.”― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar“

Towards the end of this heated experience, I gave myself hives! Because, why not. Also, because over 40 years of living with cats still has not taught me that I have forever been allergic to them, so I will scratch their little heads and then scratch my stupid face or neck (or even worse, eyes). I deserve that allergic reaction each and every time and will curse myself as I rub hydrocortisone cream over reddened, raised welts. This round though, instead of welts I have rather picturesque, gigantic, bright red, scaley/itchy hives. All over my neck, jaw, part of my chin, one part of my eyebrow, even places I didn’t massage with cat dander. No, you are not getting pictures. The neck is the most obvious and reddest part of the situation. I look like I’ve either been freshly strangled or have a mass of hickeys.

Nothing that kinky is happening. In fact, it’s the opposite of kinky, unless you are really into specific skin conditions. Up to and including a veritable “chin strap beard” of skin flakes that appeared as the hives faded. I looked down at my shirt the other day and realized I had a small field of these flakes, sprinkled on my chest like freshly fallen snow.

According to literally everything on the internet, menopause heightens or even sparks skin sensitivities and allergies. I can personally vouch for this experience. Skin conditions I never realized I had-have suddenly developed, like eczema ON MY FACE. After my first hive experience I noticed these unchanging, red splotches all over my forehead and sides of the face, and of course the chin which I can fortunately somewhat cover up with decent foundation. These have not gone away at all, while the hives flare up as they please, so I suspect it’s eczema. I am in talks with my doctor about a dermatology referral since eczema and psoriasis run in the family, as it seems like it’s my turn to jump into the autoimmune deep end of the pool.

I guess the ovaries, aside from growing enormous abominations, also were in charge of skin and temperature regulation, and apparently it was really the only job they did correctly. Who knew two ornery, and nefarious reproductive organs were keeping all these skin problems at bay. Who put them in charge and WHY.

At press time we are using very specific, skin sensitive creams and serums and things seem to be settling down. Minus the red splotches all over my face and neck that occasionally itch and flake. At least I don’t need blush?

As you can see, it’s been quite the summer over here in Southern Ontario. I am a hot (literally quite warm) mess. To handle the hot flushes (flash just isn’t accurate) I’ve started using handheld, fancy fans and pretend like I am in the real south on a veranda. I’ve been trying to emulate my great-grandmothers southern, New Orleans drawl while I fan away, remarking about the weather.

There is some positivity. A light in the itchy, hot tunnel of skin conditions. I have been steadily losing weight, which is, also according to the internet, not something most women do with this sort of surgical menopause. The science behind my specific experience with fibroids, adenomyosis, endometriosis, two surgeries and a record breaking, ball busting, behemoth endometrioma is mostly uncharted territory, so I’ve stopped trying to compare myself to anything. I’ve accepted that my diagnosis, surgeries, and subsequent fallout with this situation as uniquely my own. I am blazing my own path into the unknown, leaving trails of skin flakes in my wake.

My theory is that because endometriosis is such an intense, hardcore disease that ruins lives; Menopause, with all its stigma and symptoms, can be a gift for us poor bastards. Estrogen is no longer controlling our body, and for some of us there might be a sense of peace and balance to the force. My reality is that I feel SO MUCH better, almost like a normal person with normal existential dread. Once my skin figures out how to calm the fuck down, it’s over. I’m coming for all of you.

There is a lot of peace now, even though it took most of my 40’s to get to this place.
I’m just ignoring that, making all sorts of future plans and goals with a lovely sense of optimism that was absent for a long time.

We are also completely ignoring the chance that endo can pop up on ligaments and organs post menopause. That’s not going to happen to me, as I am manifesting that it was all my ovaries. They aren’t here to defend themselves, anyway.

Now if you will excuse me, it’s time for me to gently exfoliate my face with a washcloth before I start with the itching.