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Are you Authentically…


Eggs with faces
What, Where, Why? Me and Brain Fog

BRAAAAIIIIIIN FOGGGGGGG!! I had a great title for this blog and I faffed around a little toooooo long to set up the title and bang, it has gone, quicker than a dieter's abstinance. So, I will have to write this still with my charmingly, witty cleverly written title and maybe, just maybe if I pray to my brain cells which act like minions most of the time, I will remember.

 

Let’s get this party started...anyway, I really wanted to talk about authenticity and how I just feel that we struggle being in a place of authenticity. What is true authenticity? Nope - sorry - you will have to have a different story.

 

Talking about brain fog and forgetting, I went to the doctors recently as I convinced myself that my weight gain had nothing to do with the sugar, bad carbs and fat I was eating but purely down to hormones. I made an appointment and if you are reading this in the UK, you know that that is a military operation to get an appointment then to actually keep it is all in the hands of the gods…but I managed to get and keep an appointment (yay!) so off I went.

 

Arrived, booked in, just as I manage to break the automatic booking in system, I go and sit with the other waiting people. Sitting on these really uncomfortable plastic chairs which were added during Covid times so it encourages you not to loiter too long and the noise they make, like a violin that needs tuning, it is not a pleasant experience, but hey ho.

A complete side line, again a sign of post covid and also a sign of the times, is that there are no magazines floating around which you could catch up on all the celebrity gossip or with half pages ripped out, especially the recipes like my mum used to do, instead everyone is of course on the phones – what did we do whilst waiting before phones?? Well I guess read the out of date, incomplete magazines, oh how I miss the olden days.

 

Anyway, my name is buzzed, I find the room, knock on the door, enter then sit. The doctor / nurse (not sure) smiles and asks me how I am, and I always think that is a funny question as if I was good I would not actually be there but I guess it is niceties so I mumble I am good. She announces that I am there because of suspected menopause but with a question mark at the end of the sentence. I say yes, she turns to me and asks me my symptoms…..I open my mouth to speak but crickets…I can hear the airplane flying over the building, absolutely no idea what my symptoms are. She asks if I am getting hot flushes, lack sexual drive and I nod as if I am having an out of body experience and keep nodding as she asks how long these symptoms have been going on. It suddenly dawns on me that I forgot that I keep forgetting! That is a major symptom that I experience, I know we all forget what we are saying sometimes but this is another level. I forget words….sentences….the ability to speak, I mean it is very disconcerting, especially when on my CV I am still standing by that I am a good communicator. I float back into the room just in time to hear that she will be doing some blood tests to see where my hormone levels are.

I again nod as that is my only means of communication apparently and so the dance of taking blood from me begins.


Nurse giving a blood test
Not today Lady


My mum told me once that she had deep-set veins and I always wondered what that meant but now I know. My veins are there but they are like all the hot, dateable men, when they see me coming, they disappear. My body is actually quite clever I guess – realising that blood should be kept in the body, not given out by some foreign object that is sharp, but it is a must at times so I continue in this dance.

The ligature is put on and promptly disappears into the fat of my arms….I really should start lifting some weights I think…then she taps away looking for a sign of vein life. I tell her I have deep set veins and the challenge has now begun; the gauntlet thrown down to the nurse / doctor to find blood. Minutes tick by of her tapping away, me squeezing my fist as tightly as I could, she thinks she can find one. Needle gets inserted and nothing, I am drier than Jimmy Carr’s sense of humour. She then moves the needle around inside as if to hear ‘oh go then, here is some blood’ from my veins but oh no…I am Taurean… stubborn!

I take a sharp intake of breath as it now is beginning to hurt so she apologises and takes it out. She wipes the sweat from her brow and asks if she can try in the other arm. I shrug and say ‘sure’ as she asks me if I drank water that morning. I tell her yes in defence in case she thinks I had Champagne for breakfast (although, at that point I could have done with a glass), but she takes my other arm looks at it and raises an eyebrow in disbelief. Same dance different arm and still nothing, so she goes for the back of my hand which I reluctantly say yes to as it fucking hurts! But again, nothing, nada….not even a drip.

 

Finally she realises that the score is:

Sophie’s body = 1

Nurse / doctor = 0

 

She apologises and I try to reassure her that I have done this dance many times and sometimes the battle is won, sometimes lost so it is what it is.

We then discuss me coming back to see someone else who will hopefully be able to be a better component, so that is what was agreed.

So, ladies…you are not alone in having this brain fog and forgetfulness. I did at one point worry it could be a sign of dementia but the advice I was given was that if I notice the forgetfulness then it usually does not signify running to the doctors, but if others notice it and I don’t then it is not a run but a chat with a medical practitioner or expert (please do not take this as medical advice or that I am correct, it is something that made me come off the cliff edge when I was panicking. If you are worried at all please do seek medical attention).

But boy, I have said it already and I will keep saying it….menopause is a roller coaster and I am not even there yet, I am just in the warm up stage.

 

I went back to the doctor and saw someone else who successfully took the blood they needed, I had made sure my body was well lubricated 😉 - I am actually talking about drinking water, I promise and luckily for me my veins succumbed.


A few days later, I hear back from the doctors who tell me the results of my blood test and it turns out I am certainly not in menopause and only just on the cusp of peri menopause….excuse me???? Please try telling my body and my peace of mind that…if this is what I am experiencing right now, WHAT the actual F am I in for when it does kick in? Boy oh boy…never dull in my world.


So, I have to just deal with the sypmtoms until my body decides to end this hormonal armageddon unless I end up in jail, homeless or a clinic it seems, but I have to end on a very positive note that my suffering is not as bad as others and I am not dying.

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