Who knew that all my adult life oestrogen was protecting me from the chaos of menopausal life?
Who knew it was oestrogen that reminded me to wash conditioner off my hair? A common issue it would seem, to avoid the confusion of it not feeling right and the towel being a gloopy mess and having to get back in the shower to deal with it or deciding sod it, I’m only going to Helen’s, she won’t care if I look like I’m trialling chip fat as a hair product.
Who knew that it was oestrogen that ensured I put yoghurt on my muesli of a morning not coffee? Coffee goes in the cup, yoghurt on the muesli. Clever oestrogen. Though I could of course be the female equivalent of Heston Blumenthal whose culinary creativity and skill for exciting combinations has in fact been stifled by oestrogen for my entire adult life. Let’s face it, he’s a man and would not have this hormonal barrier to creating wondrous and exciting new combinations. That said, coffee and muesli wasn’t a great combination, so I should perhaps stick to the day job.
Who knew oestrogen was protecting my husband from the totally justifiable extreme rage that he deserved by the act of not turning a light off when leaving the room. Does oestrogen not know about budgeting, global warming and protecting the environment? Leaving a low energy light bulb burning longer than necessary, has a catastrophic effect upon all of these. My budget will explode and take the planet with it. Our failure to protect our planet is oestrogen’s fault.
Who knew that oestrogen has the magical power to prevent pubic hair sprouting in random areas of the body? It has suppressed hairy facial moles but now abandoned me to unpredictable hair that sprouts from a mole on my jaw at lightening speed growing a good centimetre overnight. If extras are needed for any productions of Roald Dahl’s “The Witches” my rates are very reasonable. It isn’t just the face either, the legs, oh the legs. Of course, I could in fact have discovered a new parasitic spider that choses to leave the body leg first but can be destroyed by removal of said rogue leg with tweezers. Perhaps I should be talking to David Attenborough before I single handedly tweeze and exterminate this exciting new species.
Who knew life without oestrogen was so emotional? The tears, the sobbing and floods of never ending tears because somebody on Holby City was ill. That’s right, the unanticipated tragedy of an ill person, in a show about a hospital, who recovers and lives happily ever after in planet Holby. It’s so beautiful. Could oestrogen not see that? And songs on the radio, mushy songs about people in love, and childbirth, the wonder of childbirth, and flowers, have you seen flowers? Oh how beautiful everything is sometimes. Excuse me a moment, I just need to grab a tissue……who knew?
By Chris Gray