Male Menopause. Really?

I am still alive and well.  Mostly alive and slightly well.  I blame Saturn.  Or Jupiter.  Whichever is being an asshole.  Uranus seems too obvious.  You see for the last couple of months I have been feeling a little less gay than usual.  I have been exhibiting some odd symptoms that apart from being annoying as fuck also has been adversely affecting my husband.  Having to live in Polar conditions when it is summer has taken its toll not only on my husband but our animals too.  The animals have been preparing for winter since December, and autumn only just arrived this week.  Everyone in the house has been cuddling up under blankets except me.  I felt like I was living in a sauna and I thought everyone else were crazy for not realizing this.  So this week I decided to visit our village healer (otherwise known as my GP) to get some answers.  But the answer I got just pissed me off.

Sometimes last year I experience my first panic attack in my life.  It was the most horrifying experience I have ever had; apart from that time when I shit my pants and when I first realized that Father Christmas was actually my uncle.  The panic attack happened in front of a complete stranger and it was awkward for the both of us.  At the time it was written off as work related stress and I received the appropriate medication and it all but disappeared.  I thought I was fine but I wasn’t.  I had another one over the long weekend.  I had it in a big department store while shopping for a vacuum cleaner.  Not that buying vacuum cleaners are not stressful, but really I had no stress to speak off and the sensation of dying, not being able to breathe and the urge to run away caught me completely off guard and freaked my husband out a little.  Needless to say we did not buy a new vacuum cleaner.

Panic attacks are bad enough but it is not the worst of it.  I also have been experiencing little tropical holidays otherwise known as hot flashes.  I am having one right now.  Taking into account that taking off all your clothes at work and spraying your naked flabby body with cold water is frowned upon (at least at my place of work), I handle my hot flashes in a more socially acceptable manner.  My air conditioner in my office is set to blizzard conditions.  I work in a fridge and not only does this cold conditions delay ageing (I Googled it, so it must be true) it also keeps my body comfortably cool.  I could have chosen to be one of those people with the hand held fans that fans my flames of faggotry, but that seemed like too much of an effort and I prefer having both my hands free at all times.  Just because I am cooking from the inside out really should not hinder my ability to pay my bills.

At home things are not much better.  Our monster sized air conditioner in our living area is always set to freezing as is the one in the bedroom.  Our cats and bunnies have been shedding in preparation for winter for 5 months now.  Their fur is all fucked up because of it.  Our indoor tree is also suffering not knowing what season it really is.  I think it is going to die and haunt me in my dreams.  As for hubby he has taken out his winter PJ’s and he looks like an Eskimo at night.  All the while I am pouncing around the house as happy as a whore at a tourism convention.  Hubby has been enduring this like the trooper he is but on Monday he could not keep silent any longer.  With the animals looking disheveled, the tree loosing it’s leafs and looking desperate in the corner, hubby finally said something.

“You know there might me something wrong with you.”  He said looking all serious.  “What are you talking about, I am fine.  My body just functions better in colder temperatures.  Maybe we should move to Canada.”  I responded.  “No seriously, I think you have a medical condition or something, you should have the doctor check you out”.  So I did what I normally do, I called my sister.  She was diagnosed with a thyroid condition which runs in our family and the symptoms I was experiencing were very similar to what she had.  Hot flashes, anxiety, panic attacks, sweating, hand tremors, itching and so forth.  Relieved that I might know what could be wrong with me I got a second opinion from the worst place possible.  WebMD!

Never.  NEVER try and diagnose yourself using the internet.  You will end up believing that you are going to die!  And die horribly! I went onto the internet to cross reference my symptoms with possible diseases.  What I discovered was that I could have thyroid disease, liver damage, gallbladder disease, pancreatic cancer, liver cancer and once all the remaining options contained the word “cancer” I stopped.  Depressed and scared as hell at that stage and not wanting to die from cancer I called my doctor and scheduled an appointment.  After listening to me ramble on about cancer and losing my shit in his office I was finally sent for blood tests.  Tests were done for my thyroid, liver and testosterone levels.  It would be 24 hours before I could get my results.  It was the longest 24 hours of my life.  24 hours spent expecting the worst.

I know that when you phone your doctor to get your test results and you are told to come in instead of being told the results over the phone that it is a bad thing.  So it took me several attempts to make the call.  The first 2 calls I hung up before they answered.  On the 3^rd attempt I mustered up the courage to speak to the doctor.  He started off by saying “I have got good news and bad news.  Good news is your thyroid is fine.  Bad news is I am worried about your liver and your testosterone levels are very low”.  He proceeded to explain that I needed to wait two weeks and redo the liver test and if he is still worried I will have to see a specialist.  I have had liver problems before, so maybe it is a good time to check it out again.  However, it was the testosterone levels that worried me.

Apparently my testosterone levels needs to be corrected with injections.  He explained that I may be suffering an early onset of male menopause.  Yes, there is such a thing.  Shocked at this prospect I repeated my real age to the doctor probably 5 times using words unbecoming a lady.  He then proceeded to assure me that even though it is rare at my age it is not life threatening.  “But I don’t have erectile dysfunction or anything like that; sure my libido is a bit low sometimes, but menopause?  Just what I needed.  Fuck.” I thought when I put down the phone.  Wiping off some sweat from my forehead due to a particularly hot tropical vacation I suffered moments before, I was in a little bit of shock.  At least I was not dying of cancer.

So I may be suffering from early onset male menopause.  Next week I am starting my hormone correction therapy which involves an injection every six weeks.  If my hormone levels do not stabilize after a year, then I have menopause.  If it does, well then my body just gave me a 5 year early pre-fortieth birthday fuck you gift.  So hopefully after I start treatment I will be able to function at temperature levels “normal people” find comfortable and hubby will no longer have to warn people, behind my back, to bring jackets when they come to visit even though it is scorching hot outside.  Nicely played hormones.  Nice played.

Till next time.