My FSH level is high. My estradiol is low. Meaning that I'm entering into that period of not having any periods and becoming a fire-breathing gonzo loon, which I always knew I was behind closed doors, except now I have the lab tests to back it up and can emboss "Absurd, But Friendly" on my calling card.
Now, the big question: to HRT or not to HRT? a question Hamlet never had the ovaries to pose. The bastard. HRT if you don't know (and if you didn't know I'm not sure anymore that we can be friends, or even in the same county) stands for Hormone Replacement Therapy.
Estrogen is what was making me the gimlet-eyed Little Miss Helpful that I've always been, and now that that's plummeted to the bottom of the pickle barrel, I'm salty, what I want to do is dance around a cauldron of boiling bats and turpentine, and cackle.
I'm drying herbs on my windowsill, and reading herbaria, and The Wisdom of Menopause; how quickly I'm passing from maiden, through mother, to crone where most of us -- if we're lucky -- spend the majority of our lives.