"Don't make me bring out the monkeys."

    That was the slogan on the t-shirt of one of the women working out at my gym this morning. She said she originally bought it to wear to warn her husband about when she was in a witchy mood, but found that each time he saw it he cracked up, so it didn't quite work as she planned. Now she wears it because it makes her laugh, too.

    I could have used a laugh or two on the drive home. Just about the moment I got into my car, I was hit with a wave of menstrual cramps that left me sweating. My own darn fault; I know better than to let caffeine enter The Temple o' Marn when The Temple is getting near That Time of Month, but this morning I had two cups of tea anyway.

    I tried to deal with the pain using visualization. You know, where you try to think yourself out of the pain using soothing images. My visualization involved me ripping out my uterus, throwing it on the ground, jumping up and down on it and then setting it on fire.

    Oddly enough, this did nothing to alleviate the cramps.

    Alrightee then.

    So I drove home in a haze of pain. (Anyone who pooh poohs menstrual cramps has never owned a uterus--for those of you of the tripod persuasion let me say that I have passed a kidney stone, I have had gallstone attacks, and I have had menstrual cramps and cramps can hurt as much as the other two.)

    Oh, and let me add that if you keep pooh poohing menstrual cramps, my NEXT visualization may involve ripping other organs from other, tripod type bodies.

    Organs that dangle, if you catch my drift.

    Did I mention menstrual cramps make me cranky?

    Just checking.

    It's odd, this love/hate relationship I have with this part of my body. I mean, it's been going on since I was 13, so you'd think I'd be used to it by now, but I'm not, not really. I hate the cramps. Oh, and don't get me started about the discomfort of worrying during the time when it's a bit heavier than normal, wondering if I've been inadvertently painting the town red as it were.

    I still haven't decided if I'm going to let it end when my body wants to enter menopause, or if I'm going to put off menopause with hormones and prolong the monthly dance.

    My doctor is all for the hormones. There's no history of breast cancer in my family, it will put off problems such as osteoporosis, and it means no change in the marital relations, no need to be buying KY jelly by the truckload.

    All positives, eh.

    But then I wonder about the other side. Just as the beginning of menstruation is a natural part of a woman's life, so is menopause. Why would I tinker with something as basic as my body chemistry? I mean, I don't colour my hair just because it turned white; I figure that's part of aging.

    So is menopause ...

    Decisions, decisions, decisions.