Post By: Claudine Aitcheson | Founder, Flourishing Through Menopause | Healthcare Administrator | Surgical Menopause Advocate, June 17, 2025

Menopause & Me: My Journey Through the Change, PART 1

The Unexpected Conversation: My Introduction to Menopause

I was about 41 years old at work one day, when a coworker, who was about 50 years old at the time, started talking to me about menopause. She mentioned that she had started experiencing symptoms at 46.

The first thought that crossed my mind was, why in heaven's name is this woman talking to me about menopause? That’s not going to happen to me. Menopause only happens to other people. You know, those people.

Then, my coworker said something that completely caught me off guard: “I experienced extreme anxiety during the initial stage of my menopause, and I was even diagnosed with bipolar disorder.”

I listened carefully, trying to process what she was saying, but truthfully, I couldn’t shake the thought that menopause wasn’t supposed to come with such severe symptoms.

In my mind, menopause was all about hot flashes and night sweats, simple, physical inconveniences that, while uncomfortable, were manageable. So, what was she talking about?

I couldn’t help but think that she was just facing some mental challenges at this point in her life, unrelated to menopause. After all, I had never heard of menopause causing anything that extreme, and it certainly didn’t fit the narrative I had in my head.

A Shift in Perspective: Embracing the Full Menopause Experience

What I learned from that conversation with my coworker was eye-opening. I learned that I wasn’t as open-minded or objective as I had believed.

I had been operating under a narrow, preconceived idea of menopause, reducing it to nothing more than hot flashes, night sweats, and the handful of symptoms I had always heard about.

I had never stopped to consider the full spectrum of experiences that women could go through during this transition. Her story made me realize how easy it is to become fixed in our own beliefs, with the assumption that what we know is the whole truth.

But menopause is deeply personal, and no two journeys are the same. That conversation was a turning point for me, a reminder that there is always more to learn, especially from the stories of others.

My coworker’s openness forced me to examine my assumptions and reminded me of the importance of being receptive to new perspectives, especially on something as complex and personal as menopause.

Interestingly, she wasn’t the only coworker who shared her experience. Another colleague was also navigating the full menopause journey.

Whenever we were having a conversation, she’d sometimes suddenly turn beet red, and I’d ask, “What’s wrong with you?” She’d smile and say, “I’m fine, it’s just hot flashes.”

She always kept a cup of hot tea and a cup of ice nearby during our shifts, along with her handheld fan. I’d often joke about all the things she was doing, thinking she was just being over the top.

One night at work, she asked me to walk on her back, and I burst out laughing. I thought she was joking.

But she insisted she was serious because her back was hurting severely. Looking back, I realize I never truly took her symptoms seriously.

I mostly made light of her experience, even though I really liked her a lot. Later, she went on to have knee surgery, all while still dealing with the other relentless symptoms of menopause.

It was yet another reminder that menopause is far more than just hot flashes. It’s a complex, life-altering transition that affects every woman differently.

The Unexpected Wisdom of Menopause: A Full Circle Moment

Looking back now, I can’t help but laugh, it feels like God truly has a sense of humor. Exactly five years after that conversation with my coworker, at age 46, my menstrual cycle came to an end.

She had long since left the job, but as I faced this change, I couldn’t help but think about her. At the time, I had a fibroid, and to be honest, I felt relieved that my period was finally over.

I’d read that fibroids are fueled by estrogen, so I hoped that with the end of my cycle, the fibroid might shrink. It felt like a small silver lining in what I thought would be a straightforward transition.

Little did I know, menopause had much more in store for me than I ever imagined. But with that sudden shift, a flood of thoughts ran through my mind. Would I start experiencing the same overwhelming symptoms my coworker had?

Would hot flashes suddenly take over my days and nights? Would anxiety and mood swings creep into my life, leading to a diagnosis I never saw coming?

And perhaps most pressing of all, would my fibroid shrink as I had hoped? It was a time of uncertainty and reflection, where my previous assumptions about menopause collided with the reality of my own experience.

Now, as I navigate this stage of life, I can’t help but reflect on that conversation from years ago. I’m beginning to understand, really understand, what she was trying to tell me. At the time, I was skeptical, convinced that menopause was just a collection of inconvenient but manageable symptoms.

But now, facing the real possibility of the changes she described, I see things through an entirely new lens. It’s amazing how much truth and wisdom can be found in the experiences of others, if only we’re open to listening.

In hindsight, I realize that experience is truly the best teacher, but sometimes, we can miss out on valuable insights if we wait until we go through something ourselves.

There’s so much to learn from those who have already walked the path before us, and it was humbling to finally embrace the lessons that were shared, even when I didn’t fully understand them at the time.

A Life-Altering Health Crisis

One Thursday morning, about two or three years after my period had ended, I was on my way to work when I felt a familiar but long-forgotten sensation, slight menstrual cramps.

At first, I brushed it off, assuming it was nothing more than a random twinge. Maybe my menstrual cycle was making an intermittent return, something I’d heard could occasionally happen.

I reassured myself that it was no big deal. After all, fluctuations are common during this stage of life, and I had read that some women experience brief hormonal shifts even after menopause.

But as the minutes passed, something felt different. The dull ache deepened, stirring an unease that I couldn’t quite place.

What started as a minor discomfort soon carried an unsettling weight, hinting that this wasn’t just a fleeting reminder of my past cycles, something more was happening.

A Sudden Turn: When Pain Becomes a Warning

By Friday night, the pain had become more intense. I took painkillers, which helped a little, but by Saturday morning, I was having a hard time urinating. My husband took me to the nearest urgent care.

The doctor there said they would need to run some tests and perform an ultrasound to figure out what was going on. Since I couldn’t urinate on my own, they inserted a catheter.

By the wee hours of Saturday night into Sunday morning, I was in even more pain. It felt as if a bus had parked on my abdomen. I was suddenly bloated, which only made the pressure worse.

I had an overwhelming urge to urinate, but I couldn’t. I knew something was very wrong. My husband and I headed to the emergency room, where the doctor quickly assessed my condition.

They ordered more tests and another ultrasound.

The ultrasound technician examined my abdominal and pelvic regions, and it didn’t take long for the doctor to return, with the same results as urgent care.

She explained that my fibroids had grown to the size of a fetus. Instead of shrinking after menopause, as I had hoped they would with decreased estrogen levels, the fibroids had enlarged.

That explained the bloating it wasn’t just gas or water retention. The fibroid was growing.

Strangely, the size wasn’t immediately visible from the outside. Despite how large it was, my abdomen didn’t look dramatically different.

The doctor recommended emergency surgery. In my mind, I thought, do whatever you need to do to get this fibroid out of me. I was in unbearable pain, unable to urinate, and barely able to walk.

The severity of the situation hit me hard. I was desperate for relief. The doctor assured me the surgery would take about two hours, but little did I know this would be the beginning of a much longer and life-changing journey.

A Decision in the Dark: When Fear and Urgency Collide

Amidst the flurry of medical advice, there was a young female doctor who seemed deeply moved by my condition. Her empathy was palpable, and she spoke to me with such genuine concern.

She explained that I was still young enough to have children since I hadn’t yet had any.

There were alternative procedures, she said, that could remove the fibroid without taking out my uterus. Her words gave me a glimmer of hope.

She also gently advised me not to remove my ovaries. My husband wholeheartedly agreed that keeping my ovaries was important.

Meanwhile, the surgical doctor had asked if I wanted to have my ovaries removed as well. When I asked why, she explained that it could lower my risk of ovarian cancer.

Her words planted a seed in my mind. I found myself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting advice. Why would the doctor bring up ovary removal when I was in such pain and emotionally overwhelmed?

In that vulnerable moment, I found myself saying, Remove it all.

Looking back, I realize how vulnerable and disoriented I was at that moment. The kind doctor who urged me to consider other options truly had my best interests at heart.

If I had been in a clearer state of mind, I might have chosen differently. But even with that uncertainty, I’ve come to believe I made the right decision for that moment.

As it turned out there was even more to this story.

What was supposed to be a two-hour procedure ended up stretching to over five. I had undergone a total hysterectomy; my uterus and both ovaries were removed.

Later, I was told by the doctor that I had come dangerously close to death. The surgery I agreed to in fear appeared to have saved my life.

The fibroid had wrapped itself around one of my organs, and they had to act quickly to prevent it from causing gangrene.

That complication added more than three extra hours to my surgery. I was always a picture of good health. I never imagined that something so drastic could happen to me. But in a single moment, everything shifted.

I found myself facing a new reality, one I hadn’t prepared for and could barely comprehend. It was surreal. In those intense, life-threatening moments, I realized just how fragile life truly is.

And just when I thought I had a handle on it all... things took another unexpected turn.

Click here for Part 2: Cherishing Every Moment