Wool hat, furry gloves, blanket coat and still the wind and snow are chilling me to the bone. That’s when a thought popped into my head: I could really use a hot flash right about now.

I don’t say that lightly. Several years into menopause, I hate how those bursts of heat make you want to peel your skin off just to cool down. But as I pushed my way through a New York City winter, I wondered, What if I could manufacture a flash on cue? That would certainly be an upside to menopause — could there be more?

That’s when I started making a list.

10 Items or Less

What a joy to no longer have to buy tampons and pads in their many many sizes and shapes that never seemed to exist when I desperately need them.

Mini pads, maxi pads, light days, panty liners. No longer do I have to translate marketing messages, branding-speak and antiquated signs to figure out what I need and where they hide in any store. In a random sample in my zip code, these products could be found stocked in the feminine needs’ aisle, the feminine care aisle (next to condoms and across from baby care items – the subliminal message connecting all three) and my personal fave: in the bath tissue aisle. So many choices that this could be a question on Family Feud: “Name the aisle where you might find products for a menstrual cycle. There are nine answers on the board.”

Why can’t we just call it the Tampon/Pads aisle and leave it at that? Are we afraid it will scare the children?

And don’t exclaim Eureka! and relax after locating these items because now you have to purchase them. I’ve refrained more than once from complaining about legitimate poor customer service because I did not want to further advance the cliche that a menstruating woman is irrational: Give that tampon-buying woman what she wants, she may go on a maniacal rampage or gush blood all over the place. Everyone stay calm!

Now, however? Bring it on. I no longer give a shit about how I look in public – I just want to be comfortable.

Q & As

New doctor’s assistant hands you a clipboard filled with sheets printed front and back. When was your last menstrual cycle? N (fucking!) A.  Are you pregnant or planning to get pregnant? NOPE. Are you breastfeeding? Not anymore!

I don’t miss taking out my planner to figure out the exact date of my last period, while balancing the clipboard and pen on my lap. I am not a trained circus performer, so usually something would wind up on the floor as I attempted the math: was it three weeks ago? Four? Count back from today, does anyone have a calculator? And, what constitutes my first day? Sometimes, I get a slight drip for a few days and then it turns into a crime scene. Which one is the first day?

Math is so much easier when the answer is no.

Sisterhood

Last, but not least, I love bitching about menopause with my no more menstruating cohorts — it’s a bonding, educational, and cathartic experience. We are not friends; we are war buddies who understand the gallows humor and scientific oddities of hot flash stories. Ever have one in the shower? Who knew that was even possible? File that one away for evidence.

Suffering in silence is old-school and not in a hip/vintage way. Now we unite in public. At dinner recently with my fellow no-longer-childbearing friends, one pal started feeling light-headed because of a hot flash. In unison, we yelled for a waiter to bring this woman ice – STAT! Give the women what they want.

Talking to my friends makes me not shy about my fickle thermostat and what comes with menopause. So, hey waiter, turn off the heat and open the window — yes, we know it’s snowing. Store manager, where is the cream for vaginal dryness? Can’t find it? Feel free to ask that over the PA system. I’ll wait. I’ve made it this far; I think I’ll take pride in this stage of my life.

Thank you, menopause!

More by Dina.

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Until next time, stay well. Stay healthy. Stay safe.

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