Growing up in the early sixties, I learned about womanly things by eves dropping from the stairwell of our old farmhouse. When my mother and her sisters talked, whether it was over coffee at the red Formica table in the kitchen or sipping Rob Roys under the locus trees the backyard, the topic was rarely proper for a young girl’s ears.
Computers weren’t around yet. TV ads consisted of Texaco Gas and Tide. And the word “Menopause” was never mentioned, not out loud anyway.
One particular evening, I remember feeling very spooked when my aunts stood in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones. My Aunt Helen and Uncle Paul were mysteriously missing from the family gathering.
Aunt Helen, someone had said, had to go away for a while. Comments were exchanged. “Oh dear.” “Oh my.” “Poor thing is going through the change.” I could hear worry in their voices, but I was completely confused. As a naïve adolescent, I was certain ‘The Change’ was another word for Black Death.
It’s hard to believe that only 50 years ago, doctors who were held in very high-esteem, didn’t know very much about menopause, especially if a woman displayed any signs of depression or anxiety.
Aunt Helen had, apparently, exhibited some depression and odd behavior. Little was known yet about Hormone Replacement Therapy in the early 60s and antidepressants were unheard of. How unfortunate for Aunt Helen. She was institutionalized and given shock treatments, a method used back then for menopausal women who needed to settle down or ‘snap out of it’.
For years after that, any mention of Aunt Helen had a phrase attached: “She was never right after “The Change”. It was true. The Aunt Helen I knew went from a vibrant, sweet woman who tapped her feet to the music to a person who sat quietly, unsmiling, and wary of anybody who attempted a conversation with her.
Luckily, today’s boomer women have access to enlightened physicians and plenty of information about menopause. The period of change that our bodies go through can range from depression, anxiety, mood swings, and memory loss. And let’s not forget hot flashes, weight gain, bone density loss and the list goes on and on.
The great part of being a menopausal woman today (other than worry-free sex and no more maxi-pads/tampons in the bathroom closet) is that we don’t have to go it alone. We have knowledge and options everywhere, and we better darn well use them to ensure a vibrant quality of life.
Sometimes, I get tired hearing the dangers of HRT, meno-pudge, and the hype of new research that the media continues to drill in to our brains. But then I think of Aunt Helen and realize that I don’t have to listen from the stairwell anymore.
I have options. I’m a lucky boomer woman. 
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This is such a rare, historical and insightful look into what happened to women before the medical field became more “enlightened.” This is the first time I’ve heard about that happening! Poor Aunt Helen, being institutionalized and given “shock treatments” because her body was going through a natural stage. Unbelievable! Of course she was “never right again,” but not because she was going through “the Change.” As we now know, after all the horrors people went through, it was because of the treatments.
Unfortunately, as “enlightened” as we’ve become, and despite all the realistic treatments we’ve found to help us endure the symptoms of menopause, for many women there still isn’t a perfect solution. There are too many individual reactions—not only to menopause, but to the treatments themselves.
On another vein, I remember in the 50’s, when I was about 7, I overheard some relatives talking in hushed tones and saying that my Aunt Florence shouldn’t be allowed to drive anymore. She had recently parked outside a large shopping mall. When she came out, they found her wandering all over the parking lot, looking for her car, because she had forgotten where she had parked it. As a result, in their eyes she had dementia and she couldn’t be trusted to go anywhere on her own anymore. Even worse, relatives who had never even driven themselves agreed. Hah—jump ahead to reality…which of us or even people in their 20’s and 30’s haven’t had the same problem.
I agree, thank heavens we now are able to share our concerns and problems, and realize we aren’t the only ones with these and other problems. In many ways, this may be the best treatment in the world!
You are so right, Darlene, being able to discuss our problems openly, health or otherwise, is so important and we’re lucky we have friends to talk to no matter where they live.
As far as losing the car in the parking lot, I’d heard that it’s okay to forget where you parked the car, but if you forget what your car looks like might be a problem. I searched for a half hour one day for my car in a parking lot, my frustration turned to anger and then panic until finally I remembered that I had driven my sweetheart’s car that day. His car was among of the sea of silver/gray cars around here and I was looking for my little red Miata. Arrghh.
Thanks for your post, D.