Tag Archives: Hormones

An Adventure of the Soul

When the Word of the Week is adventure, it conjures up places to go, things to do and people to see. But when the world is on pause and the only adventures to be had are within the walls of your home, it forces a different kind of adventure.

See, you can’t escape yourself.

There you are. All the time.

If you’re fortunate enough to live with a saint like Mark, you don’t mind being hunkered down together.

But perhaps you, like me, are going a lil’ bit stir crazy?

My personal quarantine story is amplified by a thrilling new twist: weaning myself off of hormone replacement therapy.

Some people are going grey during COVID-19.

I may grow a beard!

Okay, that’s a poor attempt at humor (but I hope you laughed.)

My goal for 2020 was to be completely pharmaceutical-free. This journey began in 2017 when I quit Zoloft. The only drugs remaining in my system were low doses of estrogen and progesterone. And I fully intended to say goodbye to them, too…

…then COVID-19 hit.

When the pills ran out, I called my doctor and fully expected the refill to go through without a visit to her office. After all, the world is social distancing and if the situation isn’t dire, who should leave home to sit amongst sick people, right?


Told that I needed blood work to get my refill, I did what any hormonally-challenged woman would do. I burst into slobbering tears. Heaving, gulping tears.

The sloppy wailing held no sway with my doctor’s gatekeeper.

And I had no peace about venturing out for blood work. This stalemate, I knew, was a sign from the universe to stick it out and cold turkey the detox.

Kind Mark looked at my tear-streaked face (the third in as many days) and said, “Are you sure?”

He’s no fool. He’s got to LIVE with this wrecking ball of inflamed human emotion, wrapped in a bow of irrational thoughts, suspicions, dread and overwhelm.

I fully understand why he thought getting me some drugs might be a good idea!

However, the FLIPSIDE of this adventure in detoxing is the depth of emotion I’m feeling.

It’s not all happy emotions; some are so empathetic I can hardly bear all the feels…

…but at least I am fully ALIVE.

And for that, I’m incredibly grateful. First of all, I consider all of the poor souls suffering in sickness right now. The many who have died a victim to this deadly virus and who have sadly made their transition in the solitude social distancing demands.

I may be a bit of a hot mess right now. But I am healthy and alive.

Second, stuff that normally gets a pass or rolls off my back now instigates a full-blown experience. This amplified state of emotions REQUIRES examination. There’s no ignoring the rage, depression, anxiety, or vitriol. It must be inspected because ain’t no way I want those ugly tenants hanging out in my psyche.

So, being at home with me and my hormones has been an adventure of epic proportions.

We’re two weeks in and the science says it’ll take six to eight to be free.

Please send Mark your prayers and well-wishes.

His path to sainthood is almost assured as he quietly and calmly observes this circus of a roommate as she mines the depths of despair. Only to be perfectly fine minutes later when distracted by a ludicrous episode of Tiger King.

More on adventures and an interesting new Word of the Weeks!


Love to each of you. Stay well!



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Jump-Starting Joy When Your Delight Battery is Dead

You’d think in the midst of a week where DELIGHT was our happy Word of the Week, I’d just walk around smiling, right?


My hormones took revenge and played ping-pong with my emotions.

Storm clouds (and the occasional lightening bolt) hovered over my head. Instead of looking at my husband, I glared – and the smallest, most innocent comment from him received a snappish, wicked-witchy answer.

Happy anniversary, honey.  (Tomorrow marks 13 years since we said “I do.”)

Indeed, I was not the poster child for delight this week. In fact, I was at a loss about what to write to you today until an unexpected opportunity to jump-start my dead delight battery arose.

Taking it changed everything.

We went to Cannon’s Steakhouse as we do every Friday night to enjoy my swoon-worthy singing friend, John Russo. Just being around him and our fellow Lounge Lizards (that’s what we call ourselves) is usually all I need to improve my mood.

And it did. A little.

There’s this 90+ year old lady named Shirley who is always there on Friday nights. I’d love her just for the sparkly hats she wears and of course, her name, which also belongs to my sister, though spelled with an “ee” at the end.  Shirley can’t help but make you smile because at various interludes in John’s performance, she gets up and tap dances throughout the restaurant, wearing a smile that could light any dark place.

Seeing her always makes me breathe a prayer that I’ll be a similar hoot at an advanced age.  And that I’ll get to BE an advanced age.

But what triggered the return to joy wasn’t just John, or the Lizards, or Shirley, or the fact that my husband gave up his failed attempt at growing a beard and shaved that day.

It was a sneaky little thing that happened between me and my heart.

John announced that the lovely couple sitting with Shirley was celebrating their 75th anniversary.  Seventy-five years!  Sheesh!  And I thought I slayed the big one by making it to thirteen!

Then it came to me.

Secretly buy their dinner.

I slipped Brad the bartender the credit card, asked to remain anonymous and voila!

Doom be damned.

Ha!  Take THAT hormones.  I’m going to kill you with kindness.

It DELIGHTED me that, regardless of what I was feeling, I could send a shock wave through the universe, defiantly choosing a loving act when I thought my love tank was empty.

Turns out, there are always reserves in that tank.  And miraculously, drawing upon them fills it up again.

It doesn’t have to involve a credit card.  Maybe it is something only you can do and be that, when extended, tips the scales for someone else (and your own at the same time.)

It will come to you as a gentle invitation, which you can choose to ignore or embrace.  I can only say embracing it was good for what ailed me this week.

So what’s ahead?  Here’s parting thoughts on delight and the new WOW:

Scaling back should never be equated with “settling for…”

What does SIMPLICITY mean to you?

This post is sealed with a KISS (Keep It Simple, Sweetie).





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