I’m half-way through the audiobook of Davina McCall’s ‘Lessons I’ve Learned’ which is so far proving a bit of a compulsive listen. So, it was mainly for that reason that I thought I would watch her TV programme about the menopause this week. And nothing to do with my age…
It was an odd mixture of a programme but, as is often the case with ‘celebrity’ documentaries, there were nuggets of interesting material amongst the more showy presentation items – serious interviews with a variety of experts interspersed with a series of statements on an advertising lorry on Brighton seafront. Davina’s great for those ‘this is embarrassing, but I’m going to say it’ moments, with vaguely Les Dawson-esque (Cissie Braithwaite) references to ‘down there’ etc. The great British embarrassment factor!
I was fortunate enough to be watching with only my cat for company, and he seemed unmoved by it all and oblivious to my blushes (and flushes).
I was briefly concerned for myself – all those missing hormones, the fragility, the mental decline – oh lord, the atrophy! If I had Cissie-breasts I’d have hoiked one of them in alarm!
But… I consoled myself with the convincing argument that occasional carrying of heavy shopping from a distant supermarket would definitely count as weight-bearing exercise to prevent loss of bone density and the very fact that I walk more than five miles each day means I can class myself as incredibly ‘active’ and thus protecting myself from the onslaught of any midlife awfulness.
As for that atrophy business – well, a brief dalliance with ‘locally delivered’ hormones at least provided excellent applicators which usefully doubled up as a cat-pill-administering device . Shoots it right to the back of the mouth! So satisfying.
Always a silver lining.