I went to my doctor a few months ago to get my hormone levels tested, and it turns out progesterone is very low. This is explains a lot, since I'm convinced this is the hormone responsible for working out, keeping the house tidy, and creating delicious gourmet meals. I think it may even have some control over sexual desire attached to it. I should have known something wasn’t right. I have been feeling horizontal lately — as in, I lay down every chance I got, thus no gym, no vacuuming, no exotic dinners...and no thoughts of wild times between the sheets. In addition to my progesterone, my testosterone is also a tad low.
My doctor said I needed hormone replacement therapy, but he warned that I may start to grow hair, my voice may get deeper, and my libido may increase with my new hormone routine. I’m hoping I don’t start scratching my groin in public, too. "So you’re telling me that I may get hairy, have a deep voice, and feel amorous?" I laughed. "That is my husband’s worst nightmare!" I laughed harder.
My husband and I have been married thirty-six years, and we are really pretty good together. We can talk about anything and everything. There have been no secrets - until now. Do I really want to tell him what could happen to me once those hormones kick in? I figured there was no need to scare the poor man with hypotheticals when he might not even notice. I began the hormone replacement therapy.
On the 1st week of hormones, I didn’t feel any change.
On the 2nd week of hormones, I started to feel a little more amorous.
On the 3rd week of hormones, I noticed a bit more hair in my armpits.
On the 4th week, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and heard a husky voice coming from my own mouth say, "Hey baby!"
On the 5th week of hormones, I started tugging at my crotch. Something was definitely wrong down there.
On the 6th week, Scott said, "Has your voice always been deeper than mine?" I smiled sweetly.
On the 7th week of hormones, I bought a set of barbells.
On the 8th week, Scott asked, "Is that a mustache on your face? It's thicker than mine!"
On the 9th week of hormones, I yelled constantly, "Scott, stop acting like a girl!"
On the 10th week, Scott woke up with sunburn. Apparently I had a hot flash that night.
On the 11th week of hormones, we went out to a nice restaurant and I challenged the waiter to arm wrestle.
By the 12th week, I knew my testosterone was in high gear when I heard myself ask, “Babe, can you teach me to field strip an M-16 and put it back together blindfolded? I really want to go to the shooting range."
Scott's response was short and sweet. "I want that doctor's number and I want it now!"
This post first appeared at www.annebardsley.com.
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