What You See Is What You Get. This is a journal blog, an explore-blog, a bit of this and that blog. Sharing where the mood takes me. Perhaps it will take you too.

Menopolyxinaemia [men-oh-po-licksy-knee-mee-ya]; the condition of multiple disorientations

I recall, early in the state of menosoup - indeed so early as to its not, at that time, being a condition one was in - there was a visitation of elders.

Mother and Father travelled great distances to be with Yours Truly in Sydney and meet with old friends (they having previously been resident there).  It was super having them stay.  Something was going on though.  Had I become so insular that I couldn't cope with having guests?  Why did it matter if the salt went back in a different cupboard to the one in which it had for so long been situated?  If work needed doing, let it be done.  Be grateful YAM.

But something was going on.

So what if the curtains were taken down and improved?  Okay, so the cleaning under beds was certainly long overdue.  How was it that in every minute of every day of this visit I felt only inadequate, small and criticised?

Dammit.  SOMETHING was going on.

"Why is the butter in the oven," mother would ask, just for curiosity's sake.  "Because some one put it there!" I'd say.

"Why is the rice soaking in the fridge?"

………………"Because it’s the alternative to microwaving.  Just takes a bit longer is all".

I had an answer for everything.

"Sit down with me for a moment dear, I'd like to have a talk."

That sounded ominously like the "I'd like to tell you about some birds and some bees" version of things was about to descend upon me.  At age 44 and a half.

"You seem to be awfully dithery these days darling.  Also angry.  Very Angry.  Have we done anything to upset you.  Your father and I are concerned about how you are coping."  (translation - YAM you're upsetting us and we're worried for your mental health".  Shades of the "do I need to call the psychologist" from my teenage years!)

Sigh.  Oh I don't know….

"Could it be peri-menopause sweetheart.  I mean, SOMETHING is going on."

Crash bang wallop.   There it was.  From its not being a condition one was in,  to menosoup getting named and shamed.  Mum went into her wonderful counseling the counselor self and, helping me to objectify, it became clear that there was a pattern which indicated the onset of 'a certain time of life'.  Oh well.  Maybe I'd be lucky and be one of those ladies who escaped with only five years of troubles.  Some have difficult times for as much as twenty years you know.  Some have minimal symptoms.  Others get everything in the book.  A few never actually recover, transitioning smoothly from menosoup to senisoup.  Looks the same.  But you can't remember at all so you complain all over again.  … I'll tell you about it when I get there.

Meanwhile back at the dining table...  Mum helped me to define the meaning of menoloopal when she told me, "I never had any symptoms you know."   I DID NOT NEED TO HEAR THAT MOTHER!

I'm ten years into menopolyxinaemia  and it's not showing signs of letting up.  The symptoms are insidious and spread out, so that it takes a while to cotton on to the possibility that the moments which can be individually described as menocle, menotonal, menoical et cetera are , indeed, "meno" whatever.

It's a crazy kind of madness. 

There was a time when I faced mother with the fact that she used to complain to us kids that she was worried about losing her mind and that, if she did, we should take her out and shoot her.  Exactly where we were to appropriate required firearms never got revealed to us.  My point though, is there were moments in her life too that must not have  made sense.  Could she not have realised?  Was she also in denial of menosoup?  So many questions.  No answers. 

Now we could have had a proper talk on the matter she's not here to do that.  Her time was shortened by another of life's great horrors.  I shall always be grateful for the "not the birds and the bees talk" though.

Today, on her birthday, I shall especially remember.


  1. My mum use to say we were to knock her on the head if 'losing her mind' happened to her. We at least did not have to worry about obtaining firearms!!! Mums, they leave us to soon and we never asked the right or enough questions. Thinking of you and the family today xx

  2. I remember your parents visiting. seeing your mums smiling face. ANd on the point of Anger, yes there is heaps of it. Why I do not know. May be intolerance, that people do not understand what it is like. God bless the ones that don't get this meno stuff. And us the one's who are many that get it, keep smiling your on candid camera.

  3. Hari Om
    Lady V - couldn't agree more - I hate to say it, but if only we knew then what we know now!!

    Mahal - glory gal, you to it baaad!!

    xxoxoxo 8~>


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